What The People Don't See

Best of You

"Nice undies" he said, nodding his head towards my Pokémon underwear.

I felt a smirk growing on my own lips, wondering how much more diverse this group of lads could get. I thought of Ross again, extracting my eyes away from the lead guitarist long enough to give the room one last fleeting search. Where the hell was he?

"Cheeky, cheeky McClorey" I replied, hoping that he hadn't noticed my second-long distraction. But it was clear in the comforting smile that he gave me that he had. He brushed past me to the sink and poured himself a glass of water before leaning back against the counter. He swirled the glass around for a moment, as if contemplating what to say.

"Don't worry about your boyfriend, he's only gone out for his midnight stroll" he said eventually. I ignored his boyfriend comment and I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was ten past three, but whatever.

"So, he always goes for walks at ungodly hours?" I asked, chucking the icepack in the fridge and hopping up on to the counter facing Josh.

"Yeah...well it's only been the last couple of weeks that he's started. I think it's the whole moving to London thing...he misses home, I guess we all do".

I couldn't imagine what it felt like to be so far from home, mainly because I never felt like I had one in the first place. What was home to Ross? Was it Cavan? His house? His family? There were so many questions bubbling around inside me that I had to grip my arms tight to my chest, in an attempt to keep it all together. I didn't understand why I cared so much anyway. There was just something about him that made me care. There was something about him that made me feel all weird and confused and scared.

"He likes you a lot, you know. I can tell by the way he looks at ya" Josh said. I didn't know what to say to that. "And he doesn't usually take to the crazy fan girls, so you should feel privileged." The smirk was back.

"Oi! I'm not a crazy fan girl! I'm not even a fan! If you want a crazy fan girl, you'll find one in Pete's bed!"

Josh stifled a laugh as Pete perked up at his name. We sat still for a moment, watching as he peered out from his mountain of blankets in a daze. He finally settled back down and Josh breathed a sigh of relief. He glanced at me and we both burst into fits of laughter, clutching our stomachs as we tried to regain composure.

"Okay, I better hit the sack before I fall asleep in the sink" Josh said after a while. He yawned and gave my head a pat and made his way back to his room. His hand was just pressing down on the handle when a thought flashed across my mind, causing me to call after him. He looked up at me in question and I gulped, wondering what on earth I was doing.

"Have you...have you ever felt like you were pretending to be someone that you're not just to...to impress someone?"

Josh nodded. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Yeah but..." My brain was screaming at me to shut the fuck up but for some reason, I struggled on. "Have you ever pretended to be that person for so long that you forget yourself?"

"No because as soon as I realise that I'm faking it for someone else's benefit, I stop, and I get rid of that person. Because keeping a person like that in your life, a person who you need to act around is just toxic."

I felt myself sink back against the cupboard behind me. Josh frowned, his dark eyebrows knotting together in concern.

"Stella are you-"

"Fine. I'm fine." I said, grinning at him just to prove it. He didn't look convinced though and he still looked annoyingly worried as he said goodnight and shut the door behind him.

I scrambled for the sink, heaving over it but nothing came up. I stared at my own reflection in the stainless steel, naming all the things I could recognise about myself. My hair; brown and wavy, that so easily tangled. My nose that turned up slightly at the end. The freckles I had collected over the years. My eyes, that were blue and grey like my Dad's. Then there was everything that I didn't recognise: the purple shadows under my eyes, the cracked lips, the jagged slit through the outer edge of my left eyebrow, the forced smile. And I wondered what had become of pretty, little Stella. The girl who wore plaits in her hair and went to school every day; that played the cello and piano and was on the local soccer team; who was going to become a doctor or lawyer or composer. Who made her mum and dad so proud.

I turned on the tap, letting the water splash against my reflection, shattering it into millions of pieces. I tilted my head and gulped down some of the freezing water. Never mind that Stella, she's gone.

I sat down at the kitchen table and rested my head against its cool surface. I pinched at the skin under my arms and started to hum under my breath. Anything it took to stay awake for Ross.