I loved him.
And I hated that.
‘Central sun, letting none into your orbit – until me …’
This was completely insane – the song was about me. Wasn’t it? How could it be about anyone else?
The widescreens to the right and left of the stage showed the camera carefully pan over to Patrick, his face literally feet high so that those at the back could see him.
Suddenly the shot changed and now the camera was focused on me, and there wasmyface, ten feet tall, being livestreamed to millions –
Great.
‘And I’d rather argue with you than receive anyone’s smiles, caffeine high, you’re my sky, flying with you …’
My stomach jolted. This was insane. At this point, there were too many coincidences for this song not to be about me. As my thoughts raced, I had to focus all my efforts on keeping my face calm.
What was I supposed to do?Should I smile? Is that weird?
No, no smiling. We were no longer together and my heart hurt. Any attempt at a smile would surely be a pale imitation of the real thing. But the song was good, it was so good, lyrics that poured into my heart and awakened the feelings I’d tried to kill off every day that we’d been apart.
‘Oh my God, it’s you!’
I smiled awkwardly at the woman seated beside me. ‘Hi.’
‘You’re Jessy Donovan!’ she whispered over the music as Patrick continued to sing. ‘Did you see the article?’
Really? Was she seriously asking me that?‘Yeah, I –’
‘I was so glad to hear that you weren’t cheating onPatrick,’ she said warmly, as though we knew each other. ‘It was great of your company to come out and state that you were meeting all those guys for work! Such nasty things, those gossip sites, I don’t know where they get off.’
They … they what?
‘You’ve got to go up there!’
I grasped the arms of my seat. ‘Oh, no, I don’t think –’
‘Yeah, you’ve got to go up there!’ The man seated on my other side pushed my shoulder forward as he hissed, ‘He’s singing about you, isn’t he?’
I turned my head slowly and met Patrick’s gaze. His eyes were warm and still trained on me. I was starting to feel like this whole performance was for me.
‘Ink my soul upon your heart if you love me too …’
‘I’m not saying it’s love, but I can’t call it anything else, calm my fears, love my tears, my body burning for yours …’
This was a dream. It had to be.
‘And when we take over the world, and we will, carve your joy, fuck the ploy, contract over …’
This was not the sort of thing that happened to me.
There he was.
Patrick.
‘You’re my anchor, and yet I’ll let you fly high, little bird …’
I smiled at the memory of our recklessness. Getting those tattoos was absolutely wild – every time I looked at my seagull, I saw Patrick’s smile as he held my hand.
