letters to dan // dan smith

Chapter 13

Dan




Day One.


I arrive at the venue almost three hours late, leaving us barely any time for soundcheck. I'd spent the morning driving around town, searching frantically for Beth, but she had all but disappeared.

I had called.

Texted.

Called again.

She ignored me.

I'd pushed her too far this time, that much I knew. This was completely my fault, no one else's.

Mine.

I know it, and it's killing me.

I ruin everything.

Sound-check drags on and on. Throughout it, I half-hope that Beth will show up, although I know it's ludicrous.

I know she won't.

And she doesn't.

The hour break between sound-check and the actual concert lasts forever. I lie on the dressing-room couch and refuse all offers of food, drink and conversation.

My eyes are shut.

My music turned up so loud my ears feel like they're bleeding.

"Ten minutes to show time!" The managers voice calls, but I don't move.

"Dan!" He's in the room. I can't see him, but I can feel his presence. "Wake up."

"I'm not asleep." An old smoker's voice. Gravelly.

"Well good. You're on in nine." And he's gone.

I lie there, alone with my thoughts.

"Five minutes!"

What have I done? Why? How? I should have left it. I ruin everything. I'm a failure. I don't deserve Beth.

My phone dings.

From: Beth

I'm sorry.

Panic settles in. Real, heart-stopping panic. Something's wrong. I can feel it.

"Two minutes!"

From: Beth

I love you, okay? Don't forget that.

My fingers fly across the screen faster than ever. Beth picks up on the second ring.

Silence.

"Beth?" I whisper.

"I'm so sorry Dan," her voice full of raw emotion.

"For what? Beth, it's my fault. Please, let me make it up to you. I-"

"Dan, stop. I need space okay? I need to get away from everything for a bit. Maybe a day, a week, month, year. I don't know. Just, please. Don't call or text me. Don't contact me in anyway. It's not just you, I've told everyone the same thing. If it's urgent, call Elsa. She'll know what to do. Don't call me unless I do it first. Promise?"

"I-" The word gets stuck in my throat. I cough and try again.

"I promise."

"Thank you," she says, her voice cracking.

The line goes dead.

"One minute!"

I sit there in denial. This is like Steph all over again, but worse. I had never loved Steph like this.

"Thirty seconds!"

Robotically, my feet move towards the stage.

Side-stage I stand frozen. I feel fear and loneliness like I've never felt before.

Someone nudges me, and I move on-stage, smiling and waving to the audience.

The concert is pure torture.

Meeting the fans is worse.

Beth is everywhere.

A flash of curly hair.

A waft of the body lotion she uses.

She's everywhere and no where at the same time.


Day 2.


I wake up to a hazy light of gold.

The sun streaming through the window.

My head pounding.

I vaguely remember suffering through the concert, although why I was suffering, I'm not sure.

I remember drinking after.

Drinking to the point of almost unconsciousness.

But why?

And then it hits me.

Beth's gone.

The pain in my chest seems to explode, doubling me over in shock.

Beth has gone.

I don't know where.

I climb out of bed and go to the bathroom.

Beth's t-shirt is on the floor.

The full force of the situation hits me, racking my body with sobs.

Nothing much gets done today.


Day 3.


I miss you, Beth. It's been three days and I miss you like crazy.

It's stupid, I know.

I'm used to hearing your voice every day.

I miss your 3am phone calls.

I miss the smell of your shampoo.

The taste of your lips.

Come back, Beth.

Come back soon.


Day 4.


I drink again.

Drink and pass out on my bedroom floor.

It's all my fault.

I've hurt her beyond repair.

Beyond forgiveness.


Day 5.


It's 3am and I can't sleep.

I sit at my kitchen table, the radio crackling some old music to keep me company.

I fidget, not able to keep still.

I need to take a walk.



The cold air is like a slap in the face.

I walk along the street, not really looking where I'm going.

I want coffee.

I see a cafe open across the road, so I start to cross.

Bright lights.

Noise.

Nothing.




Beth




My phone rings, waking me from my sleep. In the dim light coming from outside my motel room I search for my phone.

Incoming call from: Elsa

I told her not to call unless it's an emergency, so obviously I'm filled with an inevitable fear.

"Hello?" My voice is shaking.

"Beth?" She's crying.

"Elsa, are you okay?"

"Beth, oh god, something's happened Beth."