All our lives

Chapter 18

Go on stage, do your job, go back to the hotel, find a way to get out of this bullshit. That had been his plan. It was a simple, straight-forward plan, consisting in four little steps with only the last one having the power to raise some serious problems. He still wasn't sure how exactly he had slipped in his past, but it was clear he had the ability to do it. Once he'd decided that that was a circle he didn't want to deal with ever again, he only needed some time away from any potential witness. The idea of leaving behind a completely baffled version of himself having to deal with the reality without any time to recover wasn't too appealing to him even though this Jon kind of deserved such a treatment.

Plus, he wasn't sure what the heck was happening whilst he was messing up with the past. For what he knew, his present self had always been asleep or half asleep during his more or less voluntary trips into the mists of time. He didn't want to scare everybody around him with a catatonic state or God knew what else, so he hadn't even thought to try to jump to some past moment after the concert was over as 'the go back to the hotel' step had been foiled by their schedule. They needed to get to Rome that night so they had been hauled to the airport right after the show.

He simply hadn't had the chance to be alone. That was the excuse he had used to silence that inner voice who cried that he really should get out of there. As quickly as possible! The truth was he had had the chance and he'd deliberately let it go. It was late at night when they arrived in Rome, but he had had some good hours to rest and he could have used some of them to find his way out. He chose just to rest and the next day he let himself be distracted by the routine of the tour, one that he could have easily broken if he'd wanted. "I have to act normal," he had lied to himself again, but the reason for his stalling was simple. He wanted to go back on stage once more. Just once, it wasn't such a big deal, right?

Flawed from the start or not, his plan hadn't at all taken into account the impression the concert would have on him. Yes, it was an unusual playlist, his voice was good, and the band was rather surprising, but it was just a concert. How special could it be? However, when that haunting and slightly different from the original 'Who Would You Die For?' instrumental part they used as an intro started, steadily growing in intensity before coming to a halt, he knew that that was going to be one hell of a show. He had goosebumps all over his body and he hadn't yet faced the public. And when the music toned down and his enthrallingly chanted 'Hello, is there anybody out there?' washed over the crowd, spellbinding every soul in that arena, he simply knew he would not leave that circle before repeating the experience.

The raucous guitar in 'Hook me up' had sent the energy through the rooftop and ripped him off the ground, catapulting his being in that almost mystical state where he was a mighty sorcerer who could manoeuvre the crowd as he pleased. The passion emanating from the audience was so authentic, so powerful, and he was feeding on it like some kind of energetic vampire, feeling with each sung song more and more alive, capable of unimaginable things, a true Superman whose own skin could not hold him anymore. Nothing could compare to that sensation. It simply was the best feeling in the world.

He could declare he was more interested in writing the songs than in performing them, or he could tell himself that the days of frenzy shows hadn't gone anywhere, they'd just transformed a little, and it was better now anyway, but deep down he knew he was just being delusional. The concert in Milan had just proved him that beyond any doubt.

So he stayed for one more day. And whilst the crowd in Rome was still roaring, asking for a third encore which would not come, he was already thinking of their next concert. Somewhere around noon, when he had realized he hadn't yet called Dot - practically destroying the vow to call her no matter what, no matter the circle, a vow he had taken after he avoided the disaster in Vienna - he wondered why he was in such a hurry to leave that circle.