The World Behind My Wall

Chapter Twelve: Chinese Food And Grim Reapers

It's been three days since I last talked to Bill. I mean it's not like I don't want to, I totally do. But I want to give him space so he can focus on making that album. Fans have waited four years for new music from the band and I would not distract Bill from getting that album out. They had a tour to plan as well, he'd invited me to go along with them, but I haven't been answering his texts.

Mom didn't want a funeral. She wanted a party to celebrate her life, with cake, pizza, and icecream. She wanted to be cremated, her ashes buried under her favourite tree in the woods behind our house. She didn't want her 'Death Party' to be in a funeral home so Mark was going to have to fine a cheap venue and fast because we only had four days. I had to let Bill know, as I'd promised him I would, and I'm not one to break a promise.

So I waited until 10 pm my time because LA's about four hours behind. That and Mark begged me to at least text him. I'd known they were keeping in contact.

Me: heyo, Bill

Me: Bill

Me: Bill

Me: Bill

Me: hi

Me: Billllllll

Me: are you busy?

Me: Bill

Me: why did the chicken cross the road?

Me: do you know? Because I don't.

Bill: omg

Bill: you're crazy

Bill: I miss(ed) you ❤️

Me: I miss(ed) you too.

Me: mom's being cremated tomorrow.

Bill: yeah, Mark told me

Bill: so I was thinking

Me: what now😒

Bill: nothing bad, I just feel that I should be there. And I want to take the next possible flight out

Me: if you really want to, I'm not going to stop you.

He called me shortly after and we had a long conversation, lasting well into the night. He ended up falling asleep, and I stayed up (I barely slept at all since I left) scrolling through Tumblr when I saw a picture of Bill and I walking out of one of the two grocery stores in town. My name, as well as a link to my Facebook profile, were typed underneath.

Great. Just great. I mean, it was bound to happen anyways, whether I was ready or not.

"Mark!" I threw a hardcover copy of The Hunger Games at my brother's bed, aiming for his head.

"Seriously..." He groaned, glaring as he lifted his head and pushed the book to the floor. "Go to sleep, Len."

"Can't. Someone's leaked a photo of me and Bill on Tumblr, as well as my name and a link to my Facebook."

"Then don't go on Facebook. Goodnight." Mark threw his blanket over his head and went back to sleep.

Obviously I went on Facebook to see if my profile had been destroyed with notifications; I had 400 and counting. Messages and friend requests rolled in and I changed my security settings, making sure my profile was set to private. A large portion of the messages were actually really positive and that was great. The hateful ones were, to be honest, poorly written and just really dumb. I couldn't take it seriously and didn't let it get to me. Why should I? I know I'm not a gold digging slut looking for fame and attention. Yeah my jeans may be a size 12 but that doesn't mean I'm an obese whale.