A Silhouette and Maybe More

Woman On A Mission

It took some time for Dan and Abigail to befriend one another after I forced the both of them to apologise. It felt like an absolute achievement that they were able to stay in the one room without an argument sparking up but the tension between them was nail-bitingly awkward. As a result of this, I was reluctant to meet Dan and Elise face to face. I didn't want to bring up the feeling of guilt in Dan finally knowing the story between him and Elise.

Dan was still wary of his surroundings when he was out of the house. He was cautious of every policeman that was on patrol, it made him paranoid and worried. I just wanted him to be himself so it wouldn't look like he was someone you wouldn't want to be messing with. I had told him about the way he acts when he's in the public eye; mysterious and ignorant, and somewhat dodgy. It makes him seem more suspicious, especially if he wears that dark hoodie and walks around with his hood up and his hands in his pockets, his pace going at unreasonable speed.

It was about a month and a half after he revealed himself to me that I told him to loosen up and stop worrying about the police. Yet again he was round at mine, he was too embarrassed of his own accommodation that he refused to bring me anywhere near his house.

"Dan, they think you're dead so they won't be looking for you. Anyway, it's an entirely different district a long way away from here, they wouldn't be looking for you here in London even if you were still alive." I explained hoping that I would get the point through to him.

"What if I am recognised? What if I do get taken away? You and I know that we both don't want that."

I groaned and placed my hand on my head, I didn't want to be too forward about it. I was only just dropping hints.

"I know I don't want that! Look Dan, it's been nearly two months since you had been declared dead. Your crimes haven't been broadcasted here in London, only back in the countryside. Here, no one knows who you are. So stop looking like a druggie and look normal for once!" My voice had risen over the limit that I had wanted it to be. I hated arguing with Dan and he knows it but he just brings it out of me sometimes.

Initially I thought he was going to argue back, but it had seemed that I had gotten through to him. He slowly nodded his head and took himself into the kitchen. We both apologised to each other and agreed to forget it happened.

"I hate it when we argue." He muttered.

"Me too." I sighed as I followed him into the kitchen. I took a seat at the breakfast bar and sat, letting my thoughts wonder where they may freely go. I couldn't help but notice Dan standing in the corner with his arms folded blankly glancing at me. Not this again. He knows how much I hate this. I shook my head with pursed lips, he knows damn well what he's doing, he just does it to tease me. He approached me, arms unfolded and smile spread across his face like a child. His devilish chuckle sent chills up my spine. God, this man knows how to take my breath away. He took me into his arms and sweetly kissed me on the lips my knees buckling beneath me.

"I love doing that to you." He smirked.

The next day I took Dan with me to the city centre to get him some new clothes that didn't look like they were 3 years old and washed out. He chose out most of it, he knows his style which meant, for me, just sitting back and watch him shop. It was weird seeing him in public, it was only ever that I saw him in his house alone and away from civilisation. He was beginning to feel better about himself now that he had pulled down the hood and confidently walked past a policeman on patrol. He was like a kid learning.

While eating lunch in the park, we watched as a group of girls, maybe our age, maybe younger, walk past us. But one of them stopped and looked directly at Dan.

"Is that...Dan Smith?" She muttered squinting her eyes. I heard Dan swallow hard. I began to panic a little, maybe she was a girl that lived in the local village, out for a day in London. Dan had been recognised.

Once she was certain, she motioned to her friends making them aware of Dan sitting in the park bench.

"Hey guys! Isn't that Dan from Bastille sitting on that bench?"

Oh yes. Bastille. It was only Bastille. I peered up at Dan who's facial expression hadn't changed. What did he make of Bastille now? I wondered. The girls eventually had the confidence to approach us. Trying to lighten the mood I smiled at them while Dan's face was tripping him.

"Hi um...I'm Lisa. I just wanted to say that I am a really big fan of Bastille and..."

Before the girl could continue, Dan stood up and walked away muttering something.

"Bastille no longer exists. Go home."

I watched him walking away, hands buried deep into his pocket and strutting himself out the park. I was left with these girls who's smiles were slowly melting into disappointed frowns.

"I'm sorry. Just ignore him he's been through a lot." I could only apologise to the girls, somehow hopefully making them feel better.

"It's okay. I really wish that they were still a band, they were great together." Her voice slowly faded. Fidgeting with her fingers, her friends pulled her away from me telling her to forget Dan. I felt awfully guilty and sympathetic even though this wasn't my doing. Something about Bastille sent Dan over the edge. I understood that they hadn't been in contact fully after Dan's fiasco but if it was making Dan's attitude into one that belongs to a grumpy, old man then I have to do something about it.

I was going to get Bastille back together.

Firstly, since I only know one other member of the band, I contacted Kyle and asked if he wanted to meet back up again. I had managed to keep it well away from Dan. I decided to keep the reason for the meeting from Kyle to myself, I wasn't entirely sure of his opinion of Bastille. If he didn't agree to Bastille, he wouldn't agree to meeting me.

It was the same place where I had first met Kyle that I chose to talk to him. It felt comfortable the last time, God knows how uncomfortable this time round was going to be.

"Hey Kyle! Thanks for coming." I greeted. His smile spread from one ear to another. There was something about him that made me feel happy, like nothing bad had ever happened to me.

"It's good to see you again. So, what's up?" His smile still plastered on his face. So cheesy.

"Tell me about Bastille."

This was where his smile disappeared. He looked away from me, his hand perched upon his chin looking back at all the flooding memories that I've sparked up.

"To begin with..." He started clearing his throat, reluctant to speak another word. "It was great, we were just 4 pals starting out small, doing gigs where we could. Before we knew it, we where signed up and took on. That's was when our gigs where no longer in pubs. We travelled quite a bit also working on our first album while we went. Dan was our front man, it was crazy sometimes. I still think he's a genius. Whenever an idea popped into that head of his he'd whip out his phone and sing into it before he would forget, then a couple weeks later it would be a fully produced song."

From my perspective of Dan, you would have never of known and it doesn't sound like a thing he would do. I had to believe it, they have a Brit for gods sake.

"If you could, would you bring Bastille back?" I asked.

"Of course I would! I'd do anything. Being in a band and travelling the world is so much better than sitting behind a desk Monday to Friday." He exclaimed. After a moments silence he raised his brow at me in a suspicious manner.

"Why?" He bluntly asked.

"I'm on a little mission." My lips twisted into a devious smirk.