Behind the Walls

Two Years: Part One

It was a dark and cold December from the rooftops, I remember there was snow, white snow. I never took too kindly to the winter weather that was typical of London; in order to be content in the winter horrorland I cover myself with a huge blue snow jacket and thick brown pants. This day in particular would not only help my hatred for the winter grow stronger, but also my fear for what I had been feeling.

Waking up from a nightmare, I sit up straight in an instant. Trying to catch my breath, I sit there panting, sweat dripping down my neck. I touch other parts of my body to discover the same damp feeling all over my body. Throwing my comforter to the side, I move my legs and let them hang over the edge of my bed. My bed is barely large enough for myself, I figure that I would never need anything for a couple. Paralyzed in fear, I can't get my legs to function any further. I sit there staring at the wall in the darkness of my bedroom, patterns taking shape as my gaze intensifies.

Details from the unforeseen dream begin to make their way through my mind, the images still vivid and surreal. They are of Chris and myself; we're at the Bakery working on a track for the upcoming album.

Chris' fine bum is pressed against the seat intended for the piano he fingered, playing the notes that would eventually bring joy to more people than just me. He presses the keys lightly with his long, slender fingers. What impresses me the most about this man is his modesty, after so many years of being praised for his brilliant lyrics, he still proves to be insecure of his abilities. With every note he plays, he squints his eyes in disapproval. With every note he plays, the more he makes me fall for him, even though I cannot even fathom much much further I can fall after seeming to have burrowed myself all the way to the center of the earth.

"You are such a perfectionist, Chris. You need to realise how great of writer you are. Everyone has so much confidence in you, but you have almost none in yourself." I say to him calmly, but with all the passion that I hold within me.

"Jon, you have known me long enough to know that is just a part of the whole package. I am not as great as everyone says I am, and even if I was, there is always room for improvement." Chris retorts, giving me with a knowing look.

"That's very true, but one day I hope you will see how great you really are. Maybe there are people who say things that they don't really mean, but I am not one of those knobheads. I believe with my whole heart that you are one of the greatest people that I have ever met, and no one can change that." I can't believe the words that have just escaped my mouth; the confidence I feel is great, but terrifying at the same time.

I stare him right in the eye and he just stares right back at me, with a hint of disbelief from my sudden boldness. "I didn't realise you felt so strongly on the situation, thank you so much, Jon. You have always been so kind to me, even when I really don't deserve it." His eyes begin to water, and his voice faltered as he reached the conclusion of his sentence.

Standing with my guitar strapped around my chest, I lift it up over my head and set it down in the corner of the room. I slowly make my way to Chris, sitting at the edge of the piano bench. I reach over and rub his back, "Chris, please don't cry, it hurts me to see you like this. I just want you to know how much you make my life better, I cannot think of one thing I don't like about you. Every day I wake up thinking of what lies ahead in my day, and my mind instantly goes to the hope of seeing you. You make me laugh when I am feeling low; it seems almost impossible to break me from that mood, yet you manage to succeed. Before I sleep every night I think of you, how your golden curls flow freely in the wind, of your eyes that are such a divine blue, and how my heart speeds up as soon as the thought of you appears in my mind. You are the one that I wanted to find, blue eyes." With my free hand, I grip the side of his baby soft face and use my thumb to wipe the tears from his face.

Chris looks up from the piano keys, and gives me a most sour face, as if he has eaten ten lemons all at once. He smacks my hand which is on the side of his face with quite a bit of force, more than what was needed. "What the fuck is wrong with you, Jonny!? I am not fucking gay if that's what you think, so stop trying to make a move on me! You are so disgusting, what made you ever think I would fancy you in that way! Answer me, bitch!" The screams echo throughout the room; this is the loudest and most aggressive Chris has ever been.

"I-I am sorry, I wasn't thinking straight and it has been really hard for me to hide what I feel for you. I just wanted to be there to help you when you are down; I wanted to be the one you could come to, and look for love and comfort." At that point I bursted out in tears, and my voice becomes inaudible. But there is no use trying to speak.

"Why the fuck are you crying, bitch?! Did you think that you had a chance, you are the scum of the earth!" Still screaming, his face becomes red with fury, and he raises his hand into the air....

A shiver ran through my spine as I recalled the conclusion of my nightmare; a cold sweat engulfed my body. I could not believe that Chris would ever handle a situation as so, but risking our friendship did not seem worth it.

Little did I know that worst was still yet to come. This fear would not only be for my own safety, but for Chris' as well.