Sing For Me

Chapter Seven: Tim vs. Eric

Half time comes around slightly more quickly than I expected. But as Babel has only released one 12-track album, they still have to stretch out their setlist with a few well-placed covers. Even so, Abbey's copy of the leaked list means that she has been able to sing along to every song.

"No one can say I'm not a hardcore babbler!" Abbey smiles at me and then takes a sip from the virgin cocktail she was handed by our corporate box attendant. The box attendant is young – a similar age to us – and she looks at Abbey like she may just as well have a lightning bolt-shaped scar on her head.

Although I still feel a massive, empty disappointment at the thought of my 'mystery man' being Tim, and Tim being a fake-ass fame hunter, I have firmly decided that I'm not going to tell Abbey anything about who Tim actually is. Partly because this is Abbey's night, and if I ruin it by telling her that her favorite band is comprised of jerkoffs then she'd probably hate me forever; and partly because I'm fairly sure after today's events that any small imbalance in The Force would bottom out her adrenal system.

Abbey takes a chocolate-coated strawberry from a large display on the refreshments table and pops it into her mouth. It's just as well she is eating something because her cheeks are almost completely devoid of their usual rosy color.

"Cheers!" I say, lifting my diet lemonade to her drink, hoping that the sugar in her super-fruity cocktail might help to bring back her color, though her current condition probably had more to do with excitement and nerves than blood sugar levels.

I clear my throat. "So, Abs. Can you give me a run-down on all the Babel members again? I don't want to be caught out crooning the wrong name on camera." I probe, rolling my eyes, feigning sarcasm so as not to seem too interested.

Asking Abbey about Babel was probably a good way to distract her from her nervousness—the girl was starting to turn a little green—and also had the bonus of providing me with information on Tim. I pop a strawberry into my lemonade and another one straight into my mouth. The tops have already been shucked off, which adds greatly to their appeal.

"Well, there's Brendon and Aidan. People say they look kind of similar because they are both the same height and have black hair, but I think they look really different. Then there's Lachlan. He is the youngest, at eighteen, and he's the one with blonde hair who's kinda short. And there's Eric, who is Lachlan's real brother. Eric is the oldest out of all of them—he's just about to turn twenty-three. He's the one with the light brown hair."

That must be Tim! Though I guess his real name is probably Eric. Urgh.

Abbey pauses, counting each person off on her fingertips.

"Oh, yeah! And then there's Brian. People tend to forget about him. He's probably the least popular out of all the members of BABEL, but I don't really know why. I think he's actually quite cute. He's the tallest one with dark brown hair."

"Uh-huh." I acknowledge, as nonchalantly as I can.

"So, who is it again that you wanted to be your hot seat guy?" I turn towards the refreshments table and pick up another strawberry, so Abbey won't sense how desperately I need to know the answer.

Please don't let it be Tim. For no other reason than he's a jerk, obviously. I say to myself in my head.

Abbey sighs in an exasperated kind of way, and I catch her rolling her eyes out of the corner of my own, though her shoulders have slumped forward and her top lip is all sweaty.

Sheesh, she must be really, really nervous...

"I've only told you that like a million times!" She states, seemingly unaware of the sinkhole in the room that I used to call my stomach. She takes a breath. Her hands are shaking—she looks clammy all over.

"Abs... are you okay?" I walk toward her and Abbey starts to speak, but her voice is cut out by the chime of an elevator-style speaker system. Red's voice beams magically down from a small speaker embedded in the ceiling.

"I hope you are calm and ready, hot seaters! This is a call to let you know that there are five minutes to go until you need to be seated and ready for the second half. Good luck!" Red's voice is oozing with sweet, however, her sugar-rush tone doesn't quite stretch far enough to cover her inner steeliness. She's equal parts savage and sweet, that woman. I'm surprised she didn't make Abs write out the hot seat rules with a magical blood-writing quill.

"More drinks?" Our corporate box attendant approaches us with a smile. I notice a flash in her eyes, her face burns a deep red and a muscle in her jaw twitches.

What the heck is going on with people today?

"N-no. Thank you. I, um... I need to freshen up." Abbey rushes off, panic dawning on her pasty, greenish face, and she races for the bathroom.

I frown, trying to make sense of all the levels of crazy going on right now.

In my head, I replay the moment Tim pushed Aaron out the doors of Rob's Coffee Express.

If only Abs knew that barely a handful of hours ago, Eric had just broken her stalker's tailbone, I think to myself.

Then, she'd really be nervous.

~~~ A/N ~~~

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Emxx

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