The Rock Rollercoaster

21. Bloom

I love you guys. All the readers out there deserve the best, but you'll have to settle for me.

______________________________________________________________________

We exited the church amidst a swarm of black-clad mourners, most of whom were still weeping. Nate hadn't released my hand, and I wasn't about to remind him or remove it. For the first time, I could forget about the side-glances I was receiving from the members of Nate's family, and just be there for him.

That is, until I noticed the cameras.

At least ten camera men were milling around outside the gate to the church yard, and they all sprung up, chattering excitedly, cameras flashing as soon as Nate and I were seen by them. I was gobsmacked. We had paparazzi waiting for us? When had we reached that level of fame? But what was more pressing at that moment was the fact that they had no respect for these people - people who had just said goodbye to a loved one. I may have become a rockstar overnight, but I kept a firm grip of my morals. And this went against every single one of them.

I looked at Nate, panic in my eyes. They were blocking the way to Nate's car, so we couldn't make a hasty getaway. Even worse, they were brandishing microphones and recorders in the direction of Nate's family, even his grandmother.

Nate's father stormed past us, hatred burning in his eyes. He was a very tall man, with brown hair combed and parted neatly. He seemed very comfortable in a suit, and there was a brisk purposeful stride in the way he walked. He intimidated me greatly. As he passed, he glared at us, and hissed to Nate, "This is all your fault."

Nate pretended not to hear his father's words, but I did. However, this wasn't my place - I had no right to butt in here. Instead I squeezed Nate's hand. And then I released it, pushing through the mourners to reach the nearest cameraman.

"Go away," I said bluntly to him.

He grinned nastily, showing very yellow teeth. "We just want a statement of some sort, Lyra." He wheezed. "A few photos and I get next Christmas sorted."

 I scowled, "This is a private funeral. These people are mourning. Show some decency and drive away." I said.

Behind me, Stevie was pushing through. Her mother placed an arm around her, but I still heard Stevie's carrying whisper of, "Oh my God, she's actually doing an interview with them here!"

I rolled my eyes. Turning to the cameraman again, I raised my voice so that the whole of the camera-wielding crowd could hear me. "Leave right now, or I'm calling the police." I said, sounding braver than I felt.

The front man curled his lip. "You wouldn't."

I raised my eyebrows and pulled my phone from my pocket. Bringing up the keypad, I began to dial 9-1-1, and when I next looked up, they were all scarpering for their cars, just a few flashes of camera light flickering behind them.

I turned back to the family. They were all glaring at me, muttering under their breath, some even pointing. I sighed and said, "I'm sorry." Before elbowing my way through them back to Nate.

He smiled a little. "Thanks for getting rid of them."

I shrugged, not wanting to show him how much the attitudes of his family bothered me. "Lets just go back to the car."

He nodded, and we made our way back to the red car. Pretending not to notice the hateful stares both Nate and I received on the way, I sat in the passenger seat quickly. Slamming the door behind him, Nate didn't start the car immediately. He leaned his head back. "I'm sorry. That was every bit as horrible for you as you imagined, wasn't it?"