•••
The night passes in the usual manner. The same customers, the same chatter and jokes. I smile kindly, I chat to all the people who come to the bar counter and I let myself be comforted by my friends who are happy, in love and together.
“Hey, it’s Thursday, don’t forget it,” Jay reminds me. Yeah, sure. Playing music will help me unload a bit of this weight I’m carrying.
Liam and Patrick are setting up the cables, Rain and Alex are behind the counter to lend a hand so that I can step away. I join them on stage, ready to start one of our musical nights here.
Playing music has always been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. It’s helped keep me out of trouble and has been the means of creating this tight relationship I have with the boys. Music has always been there for me like a neighbor, a friend, a confidant, like that thing that gives you hope even when it seems like everything has gone to the dogs.
I sit at the drums and take up my sticks, give ’em a spin and start the first number.
I’ve been down and… I’m wondering why… These little black clouds… Keep walking around… With me.
Okay guys, right music. I didn’t even pick this one out.
So maybe tomorrow… I’ll find my way home.
And as I take out all my pain on the drum skins, I think how much I wish it could be like that, that I might find my path, that I might see a future for myself.
But then I realize she’s not here and that she’s gone, taking my dreams with her, the ones I’ll never be able to fulfil, and I tell myself that tomorrow won’t bring me anything new or promising, and that my future is of zero importance because she was my future, my hope and now all I’ve got is the present and myself.
Me, myself and I.
We take a three-minute break, just long enough to discuss what the next song should be and to drink something, when Patrick, who has his shoulders towards me, turns around suddenly, scratching his disgustingly perfect head.
“Maybe we should change the playlist,” he says.
Then I look up.
And I can’t believe it.
Ciara walks into the pub, looking around, seeming a bit out of sorts. Rain goes towards her with an affectionate embrace, even if Ciara stays there without hugging her back. She seems so small and defenceless that the impulse to run to her is primeval and before I know it, I’ve already jumped off the stage.
I approach with shaking legs and with anxiety coming back to me, faithful old bastard that he is.
Ciara looks at me as Rain slowly lets her go and steps backwards.
“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says.
“That’s okay.”
“I just needed to be here.”
“It’s wonderful to see you.”
How idiotic and impersonal. I could have done better.
Damn incompetent vocabulary.
“How are you?” I ask, pulling myself back painfully.
“Better.” She forces a smile.
That’s already an improvement.
“Want to stay a bit and listen to some music?” I ask, imploring her with my heart to stay.
“Maybe one song.” She smiles again and I could swear I saw a little spark in her eyes.
And hope slams back into me like a head-on collision with a freight train. I smile too and make my way back to the stage as she sits down next to Rain.
That’s alright, just like that, I tell myself. It’s all just fine. As long as she’s here.
The guys look at me, worried. I make a gesture with my head that everything’s fine, that I’m fine and it doesn’t feel like I’m lying. Because even just seeing her here, to see her smile and know that there’s still something inside of her is a lot better that fine.
And for now, that’s good enough.
