The Rock Rollercoaster

25. Sunday Bloody Sunday

HEY THERE READER! HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS? YOU'RE AWESOME. I think this one's longer than normal. It should be - I feel like I owe you.

_________________________________________________________________

"I'm almost finished now." I say to Charles.

No reply.

I look over and see that he's dozing in his leather office chair, head drooping slightly over his fingertips, which are steepled lazily in front of him. I stretch in my chair, ruffling the sheets of paper. My muscles are stiff from being in the same position for too long.

Glancing at the big, minimalist clock on the back wall, I see that it's gone 1 AM. I should feel sleepy, even just a little bit drowsy. But I don't. I feel so, so alive. More alive than I have in months, not that that's hard. For once, the door has become unlocked. For once, I am allowing myself to think of what happened, to think of him.

And it hurts.

But I don't care. I'll take the pain over forgetting any day.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Aware Records was unusually loud. Every other time the and guys and I had been there, it had been full of polished, professional business men and women marching purposely to their designated places. The only sounds had been lazy chatter, the click of hundreds of expensive heels across the marble floor, and the tap-tap of the receptionist on her computer.

Today was different. Way different. I had arrived with Nate, in his beat-up red car. It hadn't been awkward at all. Even though nothing had been resolved between us, and I still had no clue what our relationship status really was, being with him felt... good. OK, very good.

Chris and Freddie, on the other hand, had taken a taxi. And apparently, they'd been asked for an autograph each by their cabbie. Which is insane, and made me glad I didn't journey with them. They had adopted a habit of leaving Nate and I alone more than usual, maybe hoping we could 'fix' whatever it was that needed fixing between us.

The usually casual crowds milling in the reception were all shooting us side-glances. And not  because I was still wearing Doc Martens to a very posh building. Some of them were whispering together as we stood in a huddle, waiting for Elliot to send someone to fetch us. I wasn't paying them much notice - to be honest, I was a quivering mess of fear. Because if I saw David here, I wasn't sure what I would do.

Heck, I was scared at the thought of seeing Elliot. What if David had told him what happened? Was that why we'd been summoned to a random meeting with no other word? But if that was it, why would Freddie and Chris need to be here as well? All in all, I was a mess of nerves and guilt.

Nate kept shooting me reassuring smile whenever he caught my eye, but he didn't hold my hand like I wanted him to. I knew why. Because it would spark more rumours, rumours that didn't feel so much like rumours anymore. And if Elliot actually wasn't aware of what had happened, it was best to keep it that way.

Eventually, one of the suited men approached us. "Hi," He said, nervously. "Um, I was just wondering if I could get an autograph for my daughter, Maddie?"

Nate scowled and muttered something unintelligible, Chris and Freddie seemed too stunned by the level our fame had reached, but I kept my calm. "Sure," I said with what I hoped was a kind smile. "Do you have a pen?"

Taking the posh fountain he produced from his suit pocket, I scrawled To Maddie, Thanks for listening! Best wishes, Kick the Crown! on the piece of paper the man shoved forward.

"Here," I said, giving him the paper.

Smiling, the man said, "Thanks. She's going to love it. I'm still finding it hard to believe I'm actually speaking to you!"