Page 14 of Wish You Knew
Damn, there he was in my thoughts again.
Should I contact him? Thank him for looking after me? I didn’t remember doing that at the time. Stalling, I went into the kitchen and faffed around making a cup of tea and finding some chocolate in the fridge to snack on.
Returning to the sofa, I started a message.
Rosie: Hey, hope you got home okay? Wanted to say thanks for looking after me last night. You were amazing xxx
Ugh. Too much.
Rosie: Hey, thanks for looking after me last night. Couldn’t have got through it without you. See you soon xx
Fuck, seriously, Rosie.
Rosie: Thanks for looking after me last night x
Before I could change my mind, I pressed send. Like some kind of stalker, I stared at the screen, waiting to see if Scott had seen the message. Or whether I’d see the jumping dots which would tell me he was going to respond. Neither happened.
I tossed the phone to one side and switched on the TV instead. The channel showedFriends.A vague recollection of watching the show with Scott the previous evening swam into my head.
What made me think he’d immediately jump on something from me? We rarely contacted each other outside of the odd booty call. Why did I expect anything different today? Had there been some kind of magic shit in the stuff Mark had plied me with so that now I thought Scott was into me? My saviour?
There was no way I was going to his gig on Friday, no matter how hard Saff begged me.
7
Scott
Brixton was epic.
Totally fucking epic.
From the minute we arrived, they treated us like rock royalty. The headline act allowed us to watch their soundcheck before we did ours. Some of the notes the lead vocalist hit were ones I could only dream of. When I got into the studio again, I vowed to practice so I could become that good. Not that I wasn’t, of course. The little pick-me-up I’d had before leaving the hotel convinced me I was invincible, the best thing ever. Nothing could bring me down.
Until I clocked Rosie.
I shouldn’t have been surprised she was here with Saff.
Friends supported each other.
Friends didn’t run out of a hotel room in the early hours of the morning.
Me and Rosie weren’t friends.
My mood already enhanced with coke, spiked all over the place. One minute, everything was fine. No-one could damage the bubble around me. Next, I snarled at anyone who came within a five-foot radius.
Saff bore the brunt of it during our soundcheck. I yelled at her for screwing up the bridge inWasted By My Side, when in reality it was nothing but perfection.
“Don’t be a prick, Scott. You know it was fine,” she spat back.
“I don’t want fine, I want exceptional. Emotion, desire, longing.” With each word, I wrung my hands.
“You should try some of those things yourself.” Saff turned her back and stalked towards Declan. They whispered to each other, and Saff glanced over to the wings where Rosie watched from.
Every one of those emotions coursed through my body when I saw her. I shut them down. I had a performance to give.
“Shall we give it one more go?” asked Declan, ever the peacemaker. He adjusted his guitar and played the riff.
I shrugged. “If we think we can get it right this time.” My grip tightened around the mic, gaze dropping to the floor as I prowled around the stage. Anything to avoid looking at Rosie.
