Bad Blood

2.

I never wrote the review that I'd been sent to do. I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't go into work the next day. I'd told Angie that I'd caught a bug and hadn't even made it through the gig. She was, obviously, pissed at me. And I'd spend the next month doing extra projects and ass kissing to make up for it. As if I didn't already have enough to deal with.

All I could do was lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to forget last night ever happened. I felt sick. I felt anxious. Angry. Upset. A little bit...surprised. He'd looked so well. So different. How could he be the same person I grew up with? I couldn't help myself but go online and search for him. I wanted to know how he'd gone from this timid little boy into a grown, talented man. I instantly regretted it. Hundreds and thousands of pictures of him came up, each one staring right into my soul. I barely lasted a minute before I had to shut the laptop down.

'You alright there chicken?' Olivia asked as she walked into my room at lunchtime. I hoped she hadn't seen me wipe my face free of the angry tears. I nodded and laughed a little. But it didn't work. 'Still feeling rough?'

'Something like that.' She came and sat beside me on the bed and put her hand on my forehead.

'You don't feel too hot. Do you want me to get you anything?'

'Nah, I'm good. I need to get up and do stuff at some point.' I lied. I had no intentions of leaving this room anytime soon. I certainly didn't feel like eating.

'So gutted you missed hangout out with us. I ended up drinking with them all night.'

'Yeah I heard you come in.' I'd waited up all night, listening out for her arrival home, hoping and praying that I wasn't spoken about. She had eventually stumbled in around 3am. I tested the water to see if she found out anything. 'Did you get to speak to them then?'

'Yeah and they're pretty awesome. The drummer had a girlfriend though, so that's my dream of being married to a drummer over. I can jot down some stuff for your interview if you want?'

'Oh that's ok. I've already told Angie I'm not doing it.'

'You'll have to try and meet them again and definitely bring me along, I liked hanging out with them, they're all great guys. Dan, you know the lead singer? He's really nice.' I felt my heart rise up in my throat.

'What did you guys talk about?' Could she tell I was feeling incredibly nervous?

'Films and stuff. He's majorly into David Lynch's work.' I know. I'd been the one who introduced him to the film director. 'And then just stupid stuff like where I live and what I do.'

'Did you tell him I live with you? Did you give him our address?' I panicked.

'I said you'd bought me with you and we were housemates but I didn't give him our bloody postcode.' She giggled. 'Should I have done?' Her fist playfully connected with my shoulder.

'No...that's fine. I just...professional boundaries and all that.' I made up an excuse quickly. She must've been onto me. I was acting far too weird.

'Are you alright?' She asked sweetly, but concerned. I did want to talk about it, but I doubted she'd ever believe me. I had no proof. Everything I'd had linking me to Dan had been thrown away long ago. She actually knew all about him. I'd told her about Dan, but I'd never confided in anyone about why we'd ended our friendship. Back ten years ago on the first day of college, when I had arrived late and flustered, she had been the one to show me around and introduce me to people. I was in a new town, living out of a bedsit with no one to talk to. We had instantly connected and within months we had found our flat. But she didn't know it was him, the lead singer of a very famous band, just like I'd had no idea.

'I'm fine.' I felt my bottom lip tremble. I had about four seconds before the tears came.

'Well if you need anything, let me know, I'm going to work in an hour.' She left my room, leaving the door slightly open. I crawled out of bed and shut it, before I crumbled to the floor and wept into my hands. I hated that he'd gotten to me. I'd have given anything to go back a day and say no to Angie. I didn't like not telling Olivia the truth but I just couldn't...

I needed to run. It was perfect for clearing the mind and I could've done with the fresh air. I tied my long brunette hair into a messy bun, pulled my leggings and a slightly unclean tee on, laced up my shoes and left the apartment building at speed. I put my music onto shuffle and headed to the local park. I liked to run every day, when I had time. It always made me feel free. Like I could just choose to keep running and not go back. The sunshine lifted my mood a little. After a couple of miles, round and round the park and the surrounding streets, my ears were filled with a familiar voice. I'd downloaded his album the night before and completely forgotten. I had never skipped a song so fast. And just like that, my peace was disturbed and I headed home, defeated and out of breath.

Later that night, I was sat up in bed, unable to sleep. There was so much going on in my head, I would never be able to drift off. Every time I closed my eyes I could see him. A few times I'd thought I could smell him, hear his voice saying my name. I tossed and turned and eventually gave up at 2am. I got out of bed, went into the kitchen and turned on the kettle. As it began to warm up, I opened the laptop up. Might as well get my write up for Cannes done. I was very lucky in my job that I was often sent on planes around the world to attend film premiers and meet some very famous actors. I'd spent the previous week in Cannes, basking in the sunshine and mingling with superstars. I had until Monday to finish my piece for the monthly film magazine I sometimes freelanced for. Someone had to pay the bills, and Olivia's part time bar work wouldn't.

A little bubble popped up in the corner of my screen as I typed away. A new Facebook message. I opened it, unsuspecting, probably a chain message. But I was grateful for the distraction.

'Hey Gracey, I hope you're well.' I didn't even need to check who the message was from. Only two people called me Gracey and my Gran didn't have Facebook. Heart banging through my chest, I knew I'd only regret it, but I read on.

'I'm sure you're pretty mad at me still and I wouldn't blame you, but I wondered if you'd like to have a chat, if that's ok? We could go for a beer or something? But I understand if you don't want to. Let me know. Dan x.'

I felt like all the air had been knocked from me. He'd left his number underneath. What as I supposed to do now? He'd searched online and found me. He'd done exactly what I had done only hours earlier, but he'd clearly had more success. I could not deal with this. I seriously hoped he didn't expect me to agree to seeing him again. Surely my running away from the venue was enough of a hint that I didn't want to see him. How dare he? He'd had long enough to contact me, eleven years, and he chose to do it now? I ignored it, slammed the laptop shut and screamed into a pillow on the sofa.