I used to recognize myself - It's funny how reflections change - When we're becoming something else - I think it's time to walk away.
The lyrics stuck in my head like glue. It's funny how at miserable moments in your life you'll just hit shuffle and a fitting song will come on, I get that more times than I'd like. These lyrics fit the moment almost perfectly. I did used to recognise myself, the insignificant girl who people thought they could irritate and not get any retaliation, but it's funny how reflections change, now I'm someone who can't walk down a corridor without getting excited looks. I even get the occasional double glance in town. I'm becoming something completely different, I'm not being recognised the way I wanted to be recognised. Acting, that was supposed to be my way at getting back at the world, showing all the assholes what the quiet, insignificant, girl had been hiding, saving for that one rainy day. People who picked on me would look up at a billboard in Broadway, or come across the trailer on television, and say she was that girl I used to know, the quiet one. Then they'd realise what they'd been irritating, a star waiting to shine. All those times I'd gotten rejected by my drama teacher for the musicals, she'd see me and smile and think I'm proud of you. But recently my view on an acting career had changed, I realised I didn't want it for the fame and recognition, I just wanted it. To act, to melt into the role of another character, someone completely different to myself, was all I wanted, all I needed.
Arthur, he was always there for me. Always smiling as I strutted my stuff in lesson, always cheering me on. He was there for me and never asked anything in return, now it's my turn to repay him. Arthur needs me now more than ever, he needs my support.
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""Gwen, hey, Gwen."
I was jolted awake by a loud screech, "You fell asleep."
I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, "Where are we?"
"Nearly there."
Benedict got up out his seat and adjusted the big sunglasses on his nose; they looked ridiculous on him but always made me smile. It was a necessary precaution after all; we didn't want people swarming around us just to get a picture with the famous actor, and author. I followed him to the end of the carriage and picked my bag up, slinging it over one shoulder, and then took my suitcase down off the rack. Ben hit the door button and they slid open, letting us pass through before sliding shut again quietly. You could hear the wheels of the train sliding over the rails in here, all the bumps and hitches. But there was still a window and I could see the countryside whizzing past, too fast to catch any details. Another person, a middle aged woman with greying hair and a brown handbag, walked out of the carriage after us, stopping once she got outside. The woman smiled politely at me and I smiled back, I caught her eye for a moment and it seemed she didn't recognise either of us. It was a small thing but I was thankful for it, when you get famous it's hard to stay unrecognised for long. "It is the next one isn't it?" Ben asked quietly, feeling the awkward start.
I nodded, "You know you didn't have to come with me."
"Yes, your parents wouldn't let you come back otherwise."
I sighed and rolled my eyes, of course they wouldn't.
The train started to slow and I saw the small Whimple platform come into view, there was nobody on it at all. It was past midnight after all. The handbag woman pressed the button and we waited a second before the doors opened, then we stepped out onto the cold platform. Ben and I helped each other get the cases onto the platform and then waited a second for the train to go. A small wind picked up and ruffled my hair, pieces floating in front of my face. I tucked them behind an ear and walking out the train station, home was just a short walk away but I didn't want to go home. I wanted to see Arthur so badly, so badly it hurt. The cases bounced around a bit on the pebbles as we walked down the alley, it seemed like our footsteps were as loud as a speaker in this silence. There was no sound at all, no birds, no traffic, no nothing. Just silence, and for some reason I liked it. The silence put me in a calm mood, every emotion just bottled up inside. There were no lights left on in the house so I dug my key out my pocket and stuck it in the hole, twisting it until I heard a click. The door swung open as I pushed it and I stepped into the darkened house, illuminated only by the bright moon. Ben shut the front door quietly as I set my case down on the ground, "Just leave them here, we can get them in the morning." I whispered, Ben nodded and set his bag down carefully. "You go on up, yours is the room in the far left corner."
YOU ARE READING
Wishful Thinking
General FictionGwen isn't your average year 10 student. With her new book Ripped Apart on the shelves she's been doing well, until now. A great opportunity has arisen and she has to decide what she wants to do. But the choice she makes affects her whole life, does...