The Bodyguard ✔

Chapter Fourty-Nine

The room I'm in, the one performers have to be at before they go on stage, has a couple of chairs, a small sofa and mirrors with a counter beneath. I spot drinks and a basket with snacks on the counter in the far right corner of the room. I don't usually eat or drink before a performance, but a sip of water can't do any harm.

My legs feel unstable when I walk to the basket on high heels. All was fine until about ten minutes ago, when Frank told me to be cautious. Cautious of what, of whom?

Naturally, all the bad encounters of the last few months resurface to my attention: the abduction, the anxiety after returning home, drugged at a party, running through freezing woods while on lsd and the almost second abduction because of Lucas. Am I missing something?

I open the bottle of water with slightly shaking hands and immediately spill some on the counter. I always shake a bit before a performance, but now I'm not sure if that's the only reason. Fear and anxiety start crawling upon me, but I don't let them overcome my state of mind. I force myself to be calm. All those people who tried to hurt me, and look: I'm still standing.

The truth is, nothing will probably happen, but I should trust Frank's instincts and be cautious, like he said.

And that's that. I take a deep breath and drink some water. I take my phone out of my purse. Like promised, I call Debby. Maybe she can clear up what went wrong.

I explain to her what's wrong, and she states she will find out what happened. It was a short call, but I trust Debby and her fixing abilities given by God. That woman is a miracle worker if I've ever known one.

I look at myself in the mirror. I have a funny feeling that I don't recognise myself anymore. Maybe it's the make-up, the fancy hairdo and expensive dress, but I don't seem to know the girl that's staring back at me in the mirror.

Funny, how I've often accused Frank of being unknown to me. I, literally, should've looked into the mirror.

The room feels cramped, so I decide to take a walk.

These hallways are clearly meant for employees and musicians, as the walls are made of concrete and do not look festive at all. I wander around a bit and focus on the performance I'm about to give. I especially concentrate on the first couple of bars. Mentally visualising the beginning of the piece is my key to successfully performing it. ....... Si-sol....... Si-sol.......Si-sol, la-si... la-sol-la-si. I visualise it over and over again, all the while I mentally harden the grip on my nerves.

I secretly hope Frank will make it in time to see me perform.

He has heard me playing many times now, while I was practising. But still, a performance is something else.

I keep strolling down the hall, until I come across a door. Hm, this should be a back entrance door for staff. A great idea suddenly pops up into my mind. I take my phone and call Frank. Come on, pick up the phone.

"You!"

I look up.

It's Mrs. Duchoix with her husband, the parents of Lucas. I haven't seen them since... well, since I was in the hospital after the whole incident involving their son. What are they doing here? Maybe they're invited  to the party. Mrs. Duchoix looks upset and could burst into tears any moment now.

"It's your fault he's gone!"

Oh no.

Mr. Duchoix isn't far behind his wife and tries to calm her. She accusingly points her finger at me. "It's your fault!"