On the Edge of Tomorrow

Chapter 29

The days quickly slipped by as I focused on getting ahead in my work to avoid packing a ton of books. Before I knew it, I was staring at an old Hallmark movie flickering on the screen above my bus seat with a continuous scroll of the audio channel for headphones. I ignored it and plugged in my music. Avoiding the radio had become common, as had my usual playlists. My mind slipped to the old mixed tapes my dad would make. I missed the pops and hisses of the record spinning. Everything sounded sanitized and cold in the new digital world, like a dental office.

The five-hour trip proved quick. After the first hour, I settled into my thesis paper on The Heart of Darkness. Getting lost in the twisted mind of Kurtz and Conrad relieved the growing buzz in my chest. Only people shuffling out around me startled my concentration. Once everyone had passed, I pulled my bag down from above me and maneuvered to the exit. My foot hadn't even hit the sidewalk before my name met my ears.

"Lilipop!" Tim paced towards me with a beam on his face.

His resemblance to Billy was uncanny. Aside from his blond hair and blue eyes, they could be twins. The mannerisms were nearly identical.

"Hey, Timmy. Headed to a funeral?" I tugged on his black t-shirt, which he paired with black jeans.

He let out a laugh and wrapped me in a bear hug before tugging my bag from me and slinging it over his shoulder. "It's great to see you. It's like I've been staring at the same twelve faces for months."

"You have been staring at the same twelve faces for months." I tried to muster a smile, but it landed as a flinch.

"Billy can't wait to see you." A heaviness filled the statement, but I didn't press. "Do you want to head to the hotel or try to catch the end of the show? The bus made good time; if we hurry, we should be able to catch the last couple of songs."

It was obvious that Tim wanted to go to the venue, so with a sigh, I agreed. "Yeah, the venue sounds good."

The excitement that I clung to washed away to somberness as I neared Billy. I vaguely listened to Tim as he babbled about the cities they had been through in Europe. Mainly, I focused on New York City passing by the window until the car swerved to the curb.

"Let's go see our boy," Tim smiled as he pulled himself from the car and held out a hand to me. A burly man at the door watched us approach. "Hey, Roger, this is Lily."

"Lily; Billy's Lily?"

The title surprised me. I kept my relationship private, so I was no one's Lily back home.

"It's nice to meet you." Roger suddenly seemed less bulky, with a smile on his face and a glint of excitement in his eye. He held the door open, causing a rush of sound to blow out.

"I forgot how loud it is." I used my usual tone, knowing it'd be a while before I could use it again.

Tim put a protective arm around me as we entered the maze until we found ourselves just off the stage. Billy was there, just feet from me. He hypnotized the crowd as he wielded the guitar in the familiar way of part dance and part fight to an awe-inspiring effect. It still made my throat go dry. The crowds seemed large over the summer, but this place was three times the size and jammed with bodies. The sound dropped; everyone's eyes glued to Billy, even the bandmates. He took a single step to the mic and sang a condemning line about an inflictor of loneliness with such emotion that the world seemed to stop spinning. With just the slightest nod of his head, the drums kicked up, and the crowd sang along. They weren't singing just the chorus, but all the words in unison. Even after a summer with the band, I still didn't know the words to his songs. I had avoided absorbing them so that I wouldn't feel the effects. But these people, thousands, knew every single syllable.

My head spun as Tim's hand caught my elbow to steady me. "Water." He mumbled away from me.

Within a minute, water was thrust into my hand as though summoned with magic. But it wasn't magic; a team of people were there to do things at the slightest request. As I tried to focus on the cool sip, another person rushed past me with a guitar. Then Billy's eyes casually lifted towards me. Nothing surprised him about his acoustic coming towards him. He paused when his eyes fell on me, the slightest stutter in his step and tiny quiver of his hand. He shook off the guitar and turned to the drummer. His lips parted, but I couldn't discern the words.

"What's he doing?"

"Changing the setlist. He does that. It's fine." I heard Tim's words, but they didn't fill me with the it's fine vibe.

"Hello," Billy's voice toyed with the word in a flirty way. "Thank you for coming out tonight; we sure appreciate it. We have a couple more for you."

Billy took a step back from the mic and played a soothing melody. But then he stepped up and sang. His eyes stayed downcast as words came pleading at first—a lost boy looking for direction. The song quickly picked up to extend to loneliness of isolation. As he sang, I reminded myself that he invented conflict. His eyes flickered to mine before returning their downward glance to a speaker. It captured my attention and forced me to listen to his lyrics, words of longing for a return to innocence.

I backed away, right into Tim, who tried to catch me, but I twisted out of his reach.

"Bathroom?" I stammered at the people milling around.

Someone directed me down the hall. As I got further from the stage, the air grew colder. I could breathe better, and my head stopped spinning out of control.

"Can I help you?" An annoyed guy stood in front of me with no warning.

"Bathroom?" My voice shook from my unsettled mind.

"You can't be back here. Use the ones out front." As he spoke, I heard Billy's song winding down and him saying goodnight.

"He said a couple more," I said to no one as the crowd roared.

I should've had more time. I glanced around, searching for an escape.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You can't be back here." The man's annoyance rose with each word. Then, a total change in posture shot through him, but he wasn't looking at me anymore.

"She can go wherever she wants." Billy's voice came thick and robust. His stage voice; he was in control. His hand fell to the small of my back, ushering me to face him. A tender fingertip brushed the hair from my face as he puzzled over my expression. "Tim said you weren't feeling well."

"I..." His proximity engulfed me. It differed from all the other times he focused on me. His gaze bent me to him with no effort. "You said a couple more."

He let out a laugh. "Yeah, I'll go back out. But are you okay?" For a moment, when his voice faltered on the word 'but,' I saw my Billy, and our distance plunged me into despair.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll walk back with you." I managed a weak smile, but didn't muster more; he saw through it.

"Any requests?" He stuck an elbow out to me as he adjusted his stride to mine. The change was simple for him, like breathing.

"The one about home." It was the only cheerful song of his I remembered.

"Home." He smothered a smile at my rudimentary name for his work.

The band snuffed out their cigarettes as we neared the side of the stage.

"Hey," he tugged me to his side. "I love you." He dipped in and crashed into my lips. It wasn't tender or gentle; it was rough and hungry. The sweat poured from his face against mine as my fingertips floated down his soaked t-shirt. "Sorry." I couldn't tell if he was apologizing for the roughness of his kiss or the sweat. But he vanished before any additional discussion.