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“For being a useless boyfriend.”
She laughs quietly. “Boyfriend. You’re funny. You’re so much more than that, Dylan.”
Relief pushes away some of the anxiety she’ll leave me. “I love you, Sky. You’re my world.”
Sky replies with the words I need to hear. “I love you. Why can’t that be enough for the world to back off? I wish things could be easier.”
“We’ll get through, and then the world can fuck off.”
“You sound like my Broadbeach Dylan.”
“Yeah, if only.”
After I speak to Sky, I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. The world retreats further toward the alien. On tour, the unrecognisable hotel environment repeats every day until it morphs into one weird dream I float around in. Now empty of Sky, this world is starker.
My already aching head thumps as I attempt to digest the news. Someone brought breakfast while I was with Steve, left the food covered on a tray by the window, and the sight of the bacon and eggs turns my stomach. I’m numb, body half-functioning with the oncoming flu and mind splintered further by the start to the day. I’ll switch on the auto-Dylan later and perform my role. Then I’ll come back here and lose myself in a haze until the world can be kinder.
I throw some painkillers down my neck and crawl back into bed, pulling the sheets over my head to obliterate the outside world. Until then, I’m staying here.
What the fuck do I do next?
