A Rush of Blood to the Head

Chapter 22 - Everything's Not Lost, Part 1

"UGH!!"

Will woke up with a gasp and sat up, his heart pounding. He took a look around and heaved a sigh of relief to see the familiar room. He sat still for a long while, analysing the nightmare he just had. He couldn't remember what happened in the dream but the whole ambience was enough to make a chill run down his spine. He grabbed hold of his phone, and turned it on. It was 9:30 p.m. He groaned and turned the device off. He shifted a little before realising that his wife was asleep beside him. 

"Just a nightmare... Just a nightmare"

He slowly climbed out of bed and went to the bathroom. 

"Man..."

He looked at himself in the mirror. His face was red from exhaustion and he was sweating profusely. He sighed and splashed water on his face. This was probably the worst nightmare he had had since college. 

"Ugh..."

He dried his face and came out of the bathroom. He smiled a bit to see his wife sleeping soundly, without any worry. He checked all the other rooms. He half expected to see his twins lying in bed wide awake, but heaved a sigh of relief to see them sound asleep in their bunk bed. He found his elder daughter sleeping on the couch with a copy of The Hunger Games over her face.

"Teenagers these days...", he mumbled to himself.

He climbed downstairs and walked into the garden. It was quite dark outside but he didn't mind. He looked up at the sky. It seemed unassumingly clear today. The stars shone bright. Suddenly he felt the need to go to the Bakery. He knew that no one would be there, but in times like these, going to the Bakery helped him compose himself and calm down, whether he made music or not. So he went upstairs and grabbed a jumper and a pair of trousers. He wrote a note to his wife and stuck it on the fridge, before grabbing a spare set of keys to the studio. He decided to walk as it would be really hard for him to get a cab in such ungodly hours.

He began walking along the pavement. Something felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on to it, but something felt really very wrong. Like something really bad was about to happen. Millions of thoughts clouded his mind as he walked past an array of houses. He saw a few people on the streets, but most of them seemed like young college goers who got really drunk. He chuckled remembering his days from the UCL, but his thoughts shifted towards the grave situation the whole band was in. All because of an over-emotional pansy who fell in love with his best friend and a drunk idiot who couldn't keep his head straight. Not to mention a hyperactive man-whore who who decided to add more fuel to the fire. He sighed at the obvious idiocy of all the members in the band. He sometimes wondered how he ever ended up with people like this. But soon he realised that without these idiots, his life wouldn't have had much meaning.

"Fucking wankers...", he mumbled to himself.

Every time he thought that the band was doing good, or that everyone had been sane, for long, someone would evidently do something that would make him rethink everything he ever thought. Most of the time it would be either Chris, or Guy. Jonny was pretty rare to make a fool out of himself. But when he did, no amount of foolishness in the world could catch up to him. This was one of those times. Will hated being the responsible member in the band. It meant that he would have keep on cleaning up the mess these three kids made, while keeping tabs on them all the time. He felt like he had six kids. Three of them being middle aged men over thirty five. But he had to admit that without these degenerates, without Coldplay, he wouldn't have the life he always dreamed of. 

Soon he reached the Bakery. 

He opened the front door and walked in. As usual, no one was there. He climbed upstairs and sat on a big couch. It was his favourite place in the Bakery. Whenever he felt like crap, he used to go plop down on that couch, take a nap, and everything would be magically alright. He still hadn't heard from Jonny or Guy. He searched for his phone in his pocket but realised that he had forgotten it at home. He sighed.