Gaga's POV
How long has it passed? Hours, days, maybe months? Time seemed to have stopped, every clock frozen in the moment she had replied to that text message and then nothing anymore. She wasn't even brave enough to refute, to call him, to say that she had never wanted to reply "alright". Nothing was alright. Why did she write it, and send it? Why did nothing stop her? And why hadn't he replied anymore? She opened her eyes and rolled in the bed, reached out and grabbed her phone on the night table. She unlocked it: the screen locker picture was still the same of that day. She tapped the message icon. She scrolled through the conversations until she reached the one with his name on. She opened it for the millionth time and looked at that "alright". Under it, there was "read" and the date. He had read it. He wasn't barely surprised at her agreement, he hadn't even felt the need to reply. And from that moment on, everything had stopped. She exited the message page and opened the clocks: New York 12.58, San Diego 9.58, Chicago 11.58. Two minutes from midnight in Chicago. She stared at the clock. 11.59. Would he remember her birthday? Just a courtesy message, a simple "happy birthday" and she could have set her mind in rest. The screen light turned off and she kept staring it, in the pitch dark, until she didn't know if her eyes were open or close.
Taylor's POV
Two minutes from midnight in Chicago. He stared at the clock on the phone. 11.59. Midnight was already over in New York. He looked at the message icon. He tapped it, looked for his conversation with "my princess" and opened it for the umpteenth time. Her last message was that damned "alright". He took a deep breath and opened a new text message. What to write? "Happy birthday"? Simple, straightforward, she could have never understood what was behind those two words. He typed them, but his fingers seemed to tap the letters uncontrollably, writing everything he wanted to hide with that simple message. Suddenly he realized he had written a dozen of words and, surprised, he read them. "no no no" he whispered, and deleted everything. He sighed. He wrote "happy birthday" again and stopped. Should he write the name too? Was it too personal? He wrote it anyway. "Happy birthday Stef". Send?
Gaga's POV
Suddenly her phone rang and the screen turned on, lighting up the dark room. She woke up with a jump and saw her phone on, gripped in her hand. Her heart started beating wildly and, trying to focus, she unlocked it and checked her messages. "Tell me it's him! Tell me it's him!" a voice span frenetic in her head. "Happy birthday Stef" but the message was from her choreographer. "Fuck you" she whispered, too tired to get angry. It was 3.30 in Chicago. She dropped her phone on the pillow, next to her head. Trying to fall asleep, she imagined what he was doing in that moment. Was he sleeping? Was he still in a bar with his friends? Maybe he wasn't even in Chicago, maybe he had gone to the Hawaii? Or in San Diego? Or he was in New York? She startled, and smiled... maybe he was close to her. But maybe he was in some place where it wasn't midnight yet. Maybe he would text her later that day. Maybe, maybe, maybe. She fell asleep.
Taylor's POV
The alarm clock turned on at 11.00, with an annoying beep overlapped with the cracking noise of a local radio station. He puffed and reached out to the night table to turn it off. He rolled in the bed and his face went on his phone, which he had left the whole night on the pillow. There was still that "happy birthday Stef" written in the messages, but not sent. He hadn't found the nerve to contact her, after all those things that had happened. He puffed and got up, taking his phone with him. He went in the kitchen and turned the TV on, in the meanwhile he had something for breakfast. Around 11.30, suddenly, they knocked at the door and he opened. "Hi Taylor, am I disturbing you?" the woman, his neighbor, said. "Hey Judy! No no, not at all. Kit, little rascal, here you are!" Taylor said to the kids the woman was holding by her hand. "I brought you the mustang" the child said, showing him the toy car he had with him. "Amazing, thank you! We'll add it to the others later" he said, leaning to take the toy. "Could you please look after Matthew this afternoon, like you did the other day? I must bring Kit to the dentist's" the woman asked. "Sure" he replied. "Go for a walk with him, if you like, it's been a while since he last went out... it's not even that cold today". "We'll have fun, don't worry" he smiled. "Great. I'll bring him at 2. Have a good day!" the woman said, picking up her son. "Bye!" the kid said. "Be a good boy, Kit!" he said, and then the pair got away and he went back in.
Gaga's POV
Around 1 o'clock her phone rang and Gaga woke up again. She found her phone next to her, on the pillow, and she grabbed it. There was her manager's name on the screen. She refused the call and checked her messages: 31 new messages, each one with "happy birthday", but none from who she hoped to see. She puffed and got up, turned her phone off and threw it onto the blanket. She went in the bathroom and then in the kitchen, still in her pajamas. Her mother was getting lunch ready, and said "happy birthday honey! You woke up late today". "Mmh thanks" she sighed, and sat at the table. "Shall we go to the restaurant tonight?". "I don't know, I don't feel like it. I have to... wait... for something..." she said, nervously touching her hair. The woman looked at her a little confused "what?". She had told her mother that her boyfriend and she had taken a "break", but it wasn't actually that simple. She wouldn't have understood, if she had told her everything. "Never mind" she said, and went back to her bedroom. She heard her mother complaining as she walked to her room, then she closed the door and sat on the bed. She took her phone. She checked her messages: still nothing. She lied on the bed and, staring at the ceiling, she thought about last year's birthday: she had spent it with him, in san Diego, only them two. The day strolling around town, then dinner at the restaurant and the night on the beach. It looked like a century ago. She wanted back a day like that, but certainly that year's birthday would be full of people, presents, drinks, dances at the disco... and she didn't want it. She wanted to go to him. But where the hell was him? She wasn't brave enough to call him. He could be everywhere. And then, even if she had found him, maybe he wouldn't want to see her. Going to the other part of the world to get an "I don't want you" would be the worst thing ever. Never mind, she had to see him. She had to tell him everything. She had been waiting too much. She grabbed her phone and called the hangar where her private jet was.
