|Vienna|
I was in love with him.
Van. Van McCann.
It was strange. And frightening - how Van McCann went from a total stranger to being the one person I was extremely infatuated by. Van McCann, the face that was all boy, the face that always lit up with the grin that boys wore when they have something mischievous in mind. The face that would beam with pride and joy, like the world meant no worries to him. His dirty brown sometimes blonde hair would always flop over his eyes whenever he glanced at someone and he would then run his wonderfully long fingers along the strands to keep them in place. And those eyes - wonderfully blue, wonderfully beautiful. So sparkly, so blue. Cooling yet filled with warmth and passion, made my heart skipped a beat whenever I caught them. With just one look, it felt like I belong.
But I never told him any of that. I mean, he knew I liked him, but I never admitted anything more than that. Sure, we kissed. In the closet. Once. And that was it. It was enough to validate my feelings for him. To feel something unfathomable like that was just too complicated and overwhelming for me to tell him. Or anyone.
"I don't feel good," Van suddenly came up to me, trying to squeeze himself into the small space on the chair I was sitting on at the artist tent backstage. The boys had just finished playing a spectacular set despite the fact that half of them suffered from food poisoning a day before Glasto. He placed his hand around me, his head snuggled into my neck like it was the most comfortable place to rest his head. My heart stopped. His breathes were tickling my skin. He didn't seem to realize how much he was affecting me.
"Still feeling sick?" I managed to ask, carefully scanning the area just to see if anyone was watching us. They were eyes watching, but I was to afraid to look anywhere. I just focused on my lap to deviate the attention. Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe I was anxious. Still anxious about what Larry or the management would think about us.
Van groaned on my skin. "I might vomit again."
"Do you need to lie down or something?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not," he shrugged, still holding onto me like I was his cure for his nauseating state. "I have like, I don't know, four or five interviews shortly. Not sure how I'm going to deal with that."
"Tea?" I offered, like it was the solution to his all of his problems.
He could only shake his head.
"You don't look so good, mate," Dan suddenly appeared out of nowhere. I was startled and quickly straightened myself, but Van, he was still holding onto me comfortable like a koala. He obviously didn't care if anyone knew.
Van sighed.
"Still feeling poorly are you?" Dan asked, sitting in front of us.
"It's not getting any better, I can tell you that mate," Van groggily answered, as he finally released himself away from me.
"I can cancel your interviews and get the rest to do it for you. Can't afford to lose my frontman for tomorrow's gig," Dan said with furrowed brows. "Go get some rest, Van."
"Can you do that?" Van straightened up. I couldn't help but glanced at him. His nose was so perfect looking from the angle I was sitting.
"Like I said, I'd rather let you skip those interviews rather than cancel on gigs. Go. Get some rest."
"Thanks, Dan." Van smiled.
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