Magnolia:
God, never, ever, in a million years did I expect to find myself here, standing on a stage, singing to a crowd that were farther back than I could see. They loved our songs and It was crazy. There were a bunch of songs I loved, and after I sang Groupie Love we sang some song we had written, and so far, the night had been magical. We were finishing up the last song, written by Caspian called "barcode poetry" and the crowd was screaming.
"Hey y'all, I'm sorry to say it, but we have just one last song," The crowd responded unsurprisingly to that, "I know I know," I laughed, "But it's past my bedtime- but hey, I've loved this crowd- You know what? You're gonna make me lonesome when you're gone."
The crowd cheered as the gentle music began to start up, steel guitar wailing, and Caspian on the harmonica. We were playing a mixture of the original version by Bob Dylan and the Miley Cyrus cover, and It was probably my favorite song to sing yet. It reminded me of my home, of Nashville. And more than anything, It reminded me of Rowen.
"I've seen love go by my door, It's never been this close before," I sang, taking myself back to Nashville.
"Flowers on hillside bloomin' crazy, crickets talkin back and forth in rhyme, blue river runnin' slow and hazy, I could stay with you forever, and never realize the time-" I belted out that last note. The song was so pure and innocent, and while there was normally a stark contradiction between Bob Dylan's gruff voice and this feeling of innocence, I thought my voice embodied that.
"I look for you in old Honolulu, San Francisco, Ashtabula, You're gonna leave me now I know!" I sang half to the crowd, and half to him, to Rowen.
When the song ended, the crowd's applause was deafening, and made my heartbeat in my ears as we walked off the now darkly lit stage.
As soon as I was off stage, I was attacked by two familiar forms.
"Holy shit! I never knew you could sing like that," India yelped, hugging me closely.
"That was insane! Girl, you are the queen of that stage!" Ivy added.
I laughed, pulling them closer, "Did you see your boys? They were amazing! I didn't know Matteo sounded like that!"
India wiggled her eyebrows, "I did."
"EWWW!" Ivy and I squealed, pulling back.
"Ok but come on, you and Rowen? The chemistry! You could see it a mile away," Ivy said, pushed me teasingly.
I simply shrugged, but I couldn't wipe the smile off my face.
India whipped out her phone and typed frantically before shoving it in my face. "Look! Even the internet agrees with us!"
I leaned in to pear at what India was showing, there were various texts, and tweets about our "couple goals".
Dream couple! Too bad they are obviously in love, or else I'd want one for myself, One text said, They'd have the cutest babies, gushed another. If they don't end up together I know true love doesn't exist- look how he's looking at her! This last text was followed by a video of us on stage singing with each other.
My heart felt light and airy at the thought of Rowen. Rowen. I should probably go find him, I thought to myself.
"Thank y'all- maybe I should go find my beau now," I said excitedly and started to run down the stairs, two at a time excitedly.
I couldn't help but smile to myself as I did so, but that smile was wiped off my face with the force of a bullet the moment I got to the bottom of the stairs. I saw Rowen, that's for sure, and I saw Gemma dressed in a skin tight black dress, her arms wrapped around his neck, lips pressed against his, his arms on her hips. Both their eyes were closed in the embrace.
I felt nausea fill my stomach, and I ran out the door, faster than I had ever moved. The world seemed to spin as I waved down the nearest taxi. The world seemed to be crying tears I couldn't find as rain poured down. I heard shouts from Ivy and India, but I couldn't will myself looking towards their confusion and I threw myself into the taxi.
The fucking taxi had the audacity to be playing love songs when I got in. I incoherently mumbles the address of the hotel, and curled myself into a ball.
My heart felt like it had been ripped open. I just- I didn't understand. I was singing about how much I loved him. I loved him. And he had the fucking nerve to make all those promises, to whisper all those now meaningless words.
I was just another girl, just another heartbreak on the endless list of girls Rowen had strung along. I should have known better, I should have known. I didn't understand. I wanted to go back to Nashville. I fucking hated it here, I hated the people I hated the food and I hated all the goddamn rain.
I laid silently in the back of the taxi camp, watching the rain and the lights of the city turn into a kaleidoscope. The radio decided it was a great time to play Killing Me Softly with His Song by the Fugees. I would have asked the taxi driver to change the song, but I knew if I opened my mouth to speak, sobs instead of words would tumble out.
I had never felt love before- and I knew some people fell in love over time, and some people fell into a ring of passionate fire, but I fell in love with Rowen like I found a second half of my heart. He didn't talk a lot, but I fell in love with his movements, his movement of an eyebrow, the ways his eyes would flicker around a room, the way his hand fit so perfectly in mine.
For a moment, I wanted to go back. To pretend nothing had happened, just so we could play house happily some more. But I couldn't do that to myself. Suddenly, tears began to roll down my cheeks as I climbed out of the taxi and quickly walked into the hotel, not stopping to look up or around, all the way back to my hotel room.
Once there, I climbed onto the bed, and let out the most earth shattering, world ending sobs I had ever uttered, until I ran out of tears and I just lay shaking on the bed. Then I sobbed again, and I cried until I made myself sick.
Hi..... don't hate me....
YOU ARE READING
Westwood School
Teen FictionRowen Ashworth and his three closest friends practically run their elite British boarding school. There, the richest of the rich send their children to get the best education and to make good connections. They expect their senior year to be no diff...