months flew by, and my boyfriend Stephen got offered a job with a well-known magazine publisher in New York, so he convinced me to pack everything and transfer schools so that i could travel across the country with him. even though i was incredibly uneasy about it, i couldn't say no considering i'd lived on the pacific coast my entire life and had never been to New York.
so, i transferred, and we moved.
Stephen came from an incredibly religious background - it was a bit annoying. due to his family's firm beliefs, they preferred that i continue to live in a dorm by myself while he lived in his own apartment. the apartment was huge, nicer than anywhere either of us had ever lived, and he was so successful and making so much money that i felt like i was dating a damn celebrity. i spent every Friday and Saturday night with him in his new home, desperate to spend all of my free time with him and away from my stuffy dorm.
living in a new place and having absolutely no friends made me feel like i could have a fresh start. i could revamp myself exactly how i wanted, and no one from my past could judge me – though, when i made the impulsive decision to get all of my hair chopped off, Stephen was far from thrilled about it. (i fucking loved it, and that's all that mattered.)
i was only twenty-one, going to school to get a degree in elementary education, and the only thing keeping me grounded while on the opposite side of the country from my parents was my long-term significant other. he told me he preferred that i didn't try to get a job, so that he could spend his free time with me, and i didn't protest that either, so that i could focus completely on school.
"Elaine?" Stephen's voice rang out in the silence as he walked into the dining room where i was sitting. "are you still writing?"
i looked up from my journal to see him in front of me, his hand gripping the back of a chair as he waved the other at me. "hello, earth to Elaine."
"sorry, yeah," i answered, standing up. i swung my bag over my shoulder and stuffed my journal into it. it was a late Sunday evening, and he was always very persistent when it came time for him to drive me back to my dorm. "i'm a slow writer, and a perfectionist, Stephen. i wanted to make sure i wrote everything down."
"everything?" he asked.
"about my day, yeah," i scoffed. "do you ever listen to me? i told you i'm trying to keep a journal."
"what for?" he asked.
"um, myself," i replied. "to look back at, for memories."
he nodded slowly as if he understood, but it was painfully obvious that he didn't care, so i didn't try to further explain. i started towards the front door, but he stopped me by grabbing my arm.
"wait," he said. "i was actually going to ask if you'd stay with me tonight."
"tomorrow's Monday, you know i have class."
"missing one day won't hurt," he said. "my boss offered to let me go to some MTV thing in Queens tomorrow night, to watch some bands play, and i don't have a lot of the details yet but i thought maybe you'd like to go. since you like, you know, music and stuff."
i was extremely skeptical, but also interested. "you're the last guy to enjoy something like that, why'd he invite you?"
he sighed. "i told him my girlfriend would enjoy it," he said. "plus, it's being filmed for TV."
"what band?" i asked.
"Pearl Jam," he shrugged. "you listen to them?" i shook my head.
"no, but i'll go," i smiled. "sounds like a fun date."
the next day i woke up early, before Stephen, as if my body knew i should've been getting up and getting ready for class. Stephen had the day off of work, and he was sound asleep, so i carefully climbed out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen. i rummaged around in the fridge in an attempt to find something to eat, but decided on nothing, and went to the living room to look through Stephen's music collection.
while i didn't get my hopes up, i was secretly wishing he'd have something by this band that we were seeing be filmed that night, but all he had were Beatles records among classical and jazz cassette tapes.
i collapsed onto the couch and flipped through the pages of my journal. i wasn't a writer at heart, and it was so unbelievably hard for me to remember to keep up with my goal of writing every single day. i could go weeks before remembering to pull my notebook from my purse and write about my day.
trying to find the page i'd left off at, something fell from where it had been tucked into the spine of the notebook and landed in my lap. when i unfolded it, my heart sped up, immediately remembering what it was: the song lyrics from the coffee shop.
the untitled poem from the handsome, frustrated stranger. i'd forgotten about that day, though the words were unique and beautiful enough that i had hidden them for myself in my journal. it was weird, but so special to me, and i absolutely never wanted Stephen to find these words. i never wanted to share them with anyone but the man who wrote them. besides him, these words were mine, and they were my secret.
i folded it back up and pushed it back into the crease between the pages. i closed my eyes, shaking my head to try and chase away the thoughts of him. i didn't know him. we'd never met. i'd only stolen his art from him.
i got up, deciding to take a cold shower and get dressed.
clueless as to what to wear, i stared at the clothes i had hung in Stephen's closet. i was well aware that if i wore anything less modest or slightly different than usual, he wouldn't approve, so i tucked a black tank top into some black jeans and pulled a dark blue flannel over my shoulders.
Stephen woke up and got ready, and we decided we'd make the most of our day together. we went to lunch and walked around, sightseeing things we hadn't yet properly had time to. he took me all over, and was my tour guide for the day.
finally, we got a taxi, and it drove us the short distance to the final destination of the night. Stephen led me around to the back of the building and we were let in after he flashed his I.D. to some guards.
"we're going to be on the side behind the cameras," he explained. "because that's where some of my coworkers are gonna be. we'll have a good view, i promise." he led me to our seats, and i sat down while he spoke to some people i didn't recognize. anxiety was beginning to bubble in my tummy, mostly because i suddenly felt alone and had no idea what to expect.
Stephen sat down in the seat beside me, but carried on his conversation with the others, so i kept my eyes forward.
and i waited.
// REWRITTEN!! :)
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