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Heartbreaker
I scream the word ‘heartbreaker’ over and over, sweat beading pouring down my cheeks, my knees buckling, and the crowd screams with me in unison.
But then the chorus comes on and I know what to do: I slow down the words, dragging out each syllable, finding different meanings in every line. Jude goes easy on the bass and Miki makes the piano keys weep along with my voice.
I sound out each excruciating word as I gaze out into the audience, and then I gradually begin to focus directly at every single person my eyes find in their path. The screams of my fans pierce through my consciousness but I'm not here. I'm riding the wave of the music's high, and it feels euphoric.
I'm floating above my body.
Where’s that band aid now
To put me back together?
Where’s your hand now
That used to fit in mine?
Come back, heartbreaker
Come break me some more
Heartbreaker
breaker of hearts
Breaker of mine
Heartbreaker
breaker of hearts
Breaker of mine
And that's when it happens.
Something—someone—catches my eye in the pit, and abruptly, the stage dips to the left. Jude barely has time to run over and catch me by the shoulder before I topple over. Dark spots dance in front of my eyes and I can’t feel my hands. Cold stabs me like a knife in the chest.
“Isaiah?” Jude hisses, his face white, his dark eyes black orbits of mascara. “What happened, man?”
“I’m fine,” I mumble, blinking away the dark spots—they’re getting bigger. I grit my teeth.I am not going to faint on stage. I am not.“Should have eaten.” My voice comes out all mumbly.
“Don’t you faint on me right now.” His fingers dig into my arm. “Hey, look at me.” He’s terrified. I must look like crap. “Isaiah.”
My head empties of blood and I grind my teeth, fighting to stay upright.
“I’m fine,” I whisper to him, holding a shaking hand over my microphone. “I thought I saw…”
A ghost. I thought I saw a ghost. I thought I saw a girl who no longer exists. Who never did, except in my own imagination.
“I’m fine.” I push him gently away. The crowd is quieting down, beginning to notice my almost fall. If I don’t react quickly, videos of it will start spreading like wildfire over the internet and my stupidity will overshadow the coverage of the show within seconds. “We’re going into the bridge,” I whisper to Jude. “Now.”
Jude looks unconvinced, but he steps back and picks up his bass. New York’s brutal cold wind whips me across the cheeks, waking me up. Here we go.
Don't wake me
Don't lose me
Don't forget me
