Teddy

Teddy Part 1: The Realisation

His cigarette hung loosely in his mouth and I came to the realisation that everything about him was "loose" and just "hung"- His hair just "hung" from his head, his clothes fitted "loosely" from his slim frame. He was effortless, a soft breeze that soothes your skin in the blistering heat, a blanket of comfort in unfamiliar places. I often wonder how he does it, I've even brought it up in conversation, but I think he's just as clueless.

If he were a colour, he'd be yellow. It's common knowledge that yellow is a bright colour and even when it's a darker shade it still glows-never loses its light. I was beginning to wonder however, if his "loose" and his "hung" was just as natural to him as I'd first assumed. Instead of dressing effortlessly, he'd wear dirty clothes on repeat as if he wished to be trapped in a time loop. His hair gained length and the shoulder length ice blonde waves manipulated themselves into waves of blonde ice. The bags under his eyes hung as constant reminders of sleep deprivation and although he hid it well, his smile was loose-it meant nothing.

In previous years, when out in the sun he'd radiate the heat-my own source of warmth. Yet now, it bounces off of him and he's left cold. I fear he's spending too much time on other people, on the crowds of people that adore him-his "fans". As the name suggests "fans" cool, I was perhaps naïve to think the forceful hurricane of fame could not cool his heart-that he was untouchable and I have hope that there is time left to salvage it.

I remember with acute precision the first morning I decided to take action. It was 6am on a summer's day and I was sat crossed legged on the edge of the bed, staring out of the window. Beams of sunlight filtered through the thin white curtains like search lights-what they were searching for I did not know. I followed them with my eyes, much like a child following a rainbow and stopped when I found my treasure. He was lying in bed beside me, fully clothed in last night's attire; his face hidden behind a cloud of white blonde hair. The crinkles I'd grew to love appeared on his scrunched nose as he awoke- it was in that moment that the sun seemed to retract from its comfortable position in the sky and disappear entirely.

He sat up and I watched as the fresh eyes of today took in the familiar surroundings and grew disappointed-that was until they spotted me. The sun slowly returned, casting a warm halo around his head; his eyes although previously the light blue grey colour of a stormy sea, were now lighter and glistened as though a flare had been set to the sky- maybe that was his call for help. He smiled and for once in a painfully long time, the corners didn't hang hesitantly as if they were too heavy and could not be lifted and I thought maybe today could be a good day.

Unforgivingly, fate decided otherwise and as his eyes left mine and lazily wondered to the digital clock on his bedside table, his body deflated.

"I thought it was a Sunday." He said it simply, as though it required no further explanation. He turned to me and I could see that the flare in his eyes had already burnt out. "I have to go to the studio today, I hope you don't mind. The plan was to finish the EP last night but it just didn't happen." And there lied the problem. His talent, his passion, his joy-was music. But he's been robbed and now he finds no joy, he's drained of passion and he's neglected to remember his talent. My hand met his amongst the crumpled, white duvet cover and I held onto it in a vain attempt to retrieve all he had lost.

"I want to come with you." The words that tumbled inelegantly from my mouth shocked me, often I would say such things in my head but I never let myself speak them. I felt his thumb twitch on my hand and could see his bottom lip move- clear signals he was thinking. "It's been a while since we've spent a day together and I've not seen you play in ages..." I allowed myself to list numerous reasons as to why he should let me accompany him.

"Of course you can come." His tone of voice came as a pleasant surprise. I concealed my confusion with an enthusiastic smile and gently squeezed his hand.

"I'm going to make you breakfast!" My day had gotten off to an optimistic start and as I hopped out of bed I prayed that it would stay this way.