Floating & Flaming - Syd Barrett

Obscured by Clouds

    I mostly stared down at my shoes as the world's worst trio (including myself) strode a few feet behind the giddy couple. It was a procession nobody asked for.

    From the subtle glances I risked every once in a while, I could tell exactly what Syd and Roger were thinking. Syd was able to hide it much better than Roger, but his annoyance was right there, beneath the surface.

    Their eyes both pleaded, I wish he wasn't here right now.

    I breathed a sigh of relief as we reached the Porsche after an eternity of awkward silence. At least the radio could provide some distraction from the tension.

    Lindsey hopped into the driver's seat, patting the empty seat for Rick to willingly take. We were obviously an afterthought. I saw what was left and felt my heart plummet into my shoes.

Isn't this pleasant? I thought.

    The bench seat. Syd and Roger shot daggers at each other through their eyes.

    "I'll take the middle seat since I'm slightly shorter, Rog," said Syd, putting on chivalry.

    "Slightly. Sure, Syd. Halfafootmorelike..." Roger muttered. Syd glared back. "And I'm certainly fine with the middle. There's - erm - a safety issue with the middle seat that I am definitely ready to take that risk for the greater good of the group."

    "If anyone's dangerous out of the two of us, it's me. Who's been arrested twice?" Syd said through gritted teeth, squaring up to Roger.

    I finally came between them. "Boys! That's more testosterone than any of us wanted tonight. I think the answer is obvious. I'm taking the middle seat."

    This seemed to satisfy them for the time being. Lindsey finally came out of Rick-world and noticed that we were not, in fact, moving yet.

    "Hey! Get in already! What are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?" she shouted above the engine.

    We followed orders, with Roger on my left and Syd on my right.

    As expected, Lindsey cranked up the radio, and Roy Orbison permeated the atmosphere. She and Rick continued chatting comfortably, just out of earshot.

    When I tell you it was silent, I mean vacuum of space.

    After what seemed like an eternity of staring and evading eye contact like a tennis match, I couldn't take it anymore. Thankfully, one could always count on the Beatles to break the tension.

    "What do you think of them?" I asked, hoping for relief.

    "Who? Oh, on the radio? They-" Syd began.

    "They're rubbish. Nothing but 'yeah, yeah, yeah's' and harmonica. Can't stand that bloody thing they call 'music,'" Roger cut in, strongly opinionated as usual.

    "Rog, it isn't all bad. Although I wouldn't choose to write the same lyrics, I do like their sound. It reminds me of what I listened to when I was little, but with a newer edge. They're keeping rock alive," said Syd, glancing in my direction before adjusting his jacket around my shoulders to keep me warmer. I didn't need the jacket. The heat in my face could've thawed icecaps.

    Roger fumed. "Rock as we knew it is dead and in the grave. No one should try to dig it up and call it new. Instead, we must lead the charge through ~blah, blah~"

    I didn't even hear him anymore. Syd's fingers had gently entangled themselves with my own. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath. A spark had shocked me to my core the moment he touched me. I continued the gesture, interlocking our fingers, then squeezing his hand.

    "Right, Piper? Piper?" I realized Roger was directing his question to me and I snapped back into reality.

    "What? Oh, sure," I said, not sure what I was agreeing with.

    "I hoped you'd say that," he said with a smile. "I mean, who doesn't like coffee. I know this lovely little shop in town. And next Saturday works, you said?"

    My eyes widened in realization. What had I just agreed to? By the look on Syd's face, he hadn't been paying much attention until now either.

    "Er- I-" I stammered.

    "We're here! There are sleeping bags in the boot! See you in the morning!" Lindsey said with a wink toward me. I narrowed my eyes at her. She knew what was up.

    She and Rick were off toward a small group of bonfires to set up camp. Roger had rushed to the back to collect the supplies. I was still frozen in place with my hand in Syd's.

    "I'll meet you later, Piper. I'll get everything situated. We can talk, okay?" Roger asked optimistically. He didn't even wait for a response as he rushed over to the campsite.

    Syd released my hand.

    "Syd?" I pleaded.

    No response. He wouldn't even turn to look me in the eye. I pulled on his shirt sleeve.

    "Syd, please. Talk to me."

    "Piper, if you didn't feel the same way I feel about you, all you had to do was say something. You can't just-" He put his head in his hands, then finally turned to me, "You can't lead someone on- Actually, no. This isn't your fault. I was a fool. What was I thinking? You probably weren't even talking about me when I first saw you at the concert hall gig. You must have been talking about Roger. He is taller, more passionate, a better writer... I'm only making things worse."

    I tried to interrupt him, but to no avail. I didn't know what to say.

    He sighed, paused for a moment, and stated, "Piper, I can't be nothing to you."

    I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. His eyes were dark and emotionless.

    "Keep the jacket. Sell it, burn it, throw it in the sea. See you around."

    He got out of the car, grabbed a sleeping bag, and stormed off.

    "Syd, wait! Please!" I couldn't get the words out when it mattered. My voice was choked by the tears rising in my eyes. Why could I never say how I felt? I would never be articulate, or bold, or outspoken.

    I curled up into a ball in the backseat and shook with sobs. I'm a coward, I thought, And now he's gone.

    The clouds gathered, dark and furious, just like the boy I might have lost forever. The moon and stars were obscured. The celestial expanse that we might have admired that night was torn away from us. Lightning struck and lit up the landscape, and for a brief moment I saw the outline of a boy with wild hair, too far for me to reach. Drops of rain, falling faster as time passed, drenched me in the open convertible. I didn't mind. Nothing could break through the numbness that replaced my tears.

A/N: Hello, all! Thanks so much for reading this story! I never thought anyone would see it, let alone enjoy it! I hope to be writing/updating more frequently since California has been put under indefinite quarantine due to the Coronavirus. This is a grave situation, but it will give me more free time. I'll be very bored, so if you want to be friends, my instagram is: @vintage.psychedelic. Leave any thoughts/suggestions in the comments, and have a lovely day!