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I wouldn’t be gone for long, but I would miss Chrissie. I’d been so busy feeling sorry for myself that I’d forgotten to appreciate how special she was of late. I sat on the bed beside her, wound an arm around her shoulders. “I hope you’re not too lonely while I’m gone,” I teased.
“Oh please. I’ll be so busy I won’t even notice,” she said, resting her head against mine. “Starting tonight. Meeting David at eight.”
I leaned back, eyeballing her. “What about Liam?”
“Liam was great, but a fantasy. It could never be anything more. He lives on the road. He sleeps with supermodels and actresses. Time to get back to real life now.” She spoke casually, finished with a satisfied smile, yet the words left me feeling winded.
“Yeah.” My lips turned up in a smile but it didn’t reach my cheeks. Was Hugo a fantasy? Was I foolish to think our friendship could ever be what it was?
Maybe. Probably. I knew I had to find out.
“Besides, I think I need to put some effort in with David. I heard Janine from aftersales has her eye on him.”
“Really?” Honestly, I didn’t see why that was a problem. Chrissie and David had only ever been a casual thing. “Would that be such a big deal?”
“I heard she’s been with half the company. If he stuck it to her it’d be like trying to shag a hippo’s yawn.”
“Whoa. Nice girl code there, Chris. Pretty sure David wasn’t a virgin before he slept with you.”
She shrugged. Huffed a little. Clearly, Chrissie’s feelings for David ran a tad deeper than I’d thought. “Well, I don’t like her, so I’m allowed to slag her off.” I didn’t think Chrissie even knew Janine that well. Neither of us did. Aftersales was a separate floor and our departments didn’t tend to mix.
“I’m a little surprised. I didn’t know you even liked David. Unless you were, you know, screwing him.”
“I don’t. Much. I don’t think.” She tilted her head, thought about it. “I dunno. He’s grown on me. Or…he might grow on me. He won’t if he grows on Janine first, though,” she said, spitting Janine’s name as if it contained acid. My friend was jealous. It didn’t suit her. Still, I found it oddly adorable.
“Well, try not to marry him before I get back.”
“Christ, slow down. I don’t want to marry the guy. I’m just trying to save his dick from blistering warts or gonorrhoea. I’m being a good Samaritan here.”
I chuckled at her dramatics. “You’re being a bitch is what you’re being. It wouldn’t surprise me if David started those rumours himself. I bet this poor Janine girl has never even heard of him.”
“And let’s keep it that way,” she said with a determined nod. “Now, let’s finish this packing. You’ve got rock stars to impress!”
With that, I got up and carried on gathering my things, including some drawing pads and pencils because I figured I’d be alone some of the time, while Hugo was off being famous. It was almost time to leave life as I knew it behind and swan off on the adventure of a lifetime. The idea terrified me.
I couldn’t wait.
Ten
Hugo
I’d never enjoyed travelling, but having Helen with me made it so much better. A week into the tour, and Helen and I were almost always together. Life was just as I’d imagined it years ago, back when I first auditioned for Next Up. This was the dream. Right here, with Helen. Every night, I hit the stage. I sang and played, got high from the atmosphere. It added an extra thrill knowing she could hear from her spot behind the stage. The days were spent with my best friend. We talked about life, the important parts, the things we’d missed. We chatted shit, too, discussed random nonsense that made no sense to anyone else but us.
I wrote lyrics for her. She drew pictures for me. We held a competition to see who could fit the most Maltesers in their mouth and Helen reminded me what a sore loser she was. I hadn’t seen such a huge pout on her face, or anyone’s face, since the day I beat her at Monopoly three times in a row. We were seventeen then. She’d tossed the board.
My only regret was delaying this, being too much of a coward to come back for her sooner.
Everything was fucking perfect. The funk that’d been teasing me before I returned to the UK had packed its bags. Turned out I didn’t need the pills after all. I wasn’t slipping into depression again, just guilt. I’d missed Helen, that’s all. She was the only drug I needed. She’d brought me back as a teenager, and she was doing it again now without even realising it.
I loved her.
“Ah, Manchester,” I breathed, collapsing onto the king-sized bed. It was almost two AM by the time we’d reached the hotel. After completing two shows in Cardiff and three in Birmingham without a day off in between, I was knackered, which wasn’t new. I’d been feeling more tired than usual this week. I was used to late nights. Performing. Being on the road. It’d been a while, though, so I put it down to that. Readjusting.
