Lonely People

The Two-Legged Chair

Continuing Revolution without Janice felt like building a house without any lumber. We had lost an essential part of the group. Without her, we were a two-legged chair in a world that couldn't survive with less than three.

Yet, Janice had said it herself, we had a war to fight. So long as there was a revolution to fight, Janice would be a rebel, even if she sat on the bench. She was one of the matches that started the flame of rebellion, and she always would be. Our mission was too important to back out, especially now, when we had nearly made it. As painful as it was, Molly and I knew, we had to find someone else to join the revolution.

"I hate this," Molly muttered, "I hate this so much."

She tightly crossed her arms across her chest and looked away. Her blonde hair, a curtain of golden sunshine, fell in front of her face to shield her from the darkness of the world. She folded in on herself, collapsing into a void where none of this ever happened. In her mind, she vanished into a world where we didn't have to find a replacement for one of our best mates. I wanted nothing more than to follow her.

"I don't like it either," I replied.

We walked along the road towards Aubergine Studios. London was busy that day with many people passing us. Their eyes were diverted, but that might not last long. The last thing we needed was for someone to accuse us of being queer.

I ignored the obvious threats of danger and wrapped my arm around Molly's shoulders. Nobody paid us a passing glance. So long as we didn't do anything overly affectionate, we should be safe. Even so, every touch or stolen glance was like walking on eggshells. All we needed was for one overly homophobic person to spot us, and we would be as good as dead.

"We can't replace Jan," I told her, "We both know that, but we can't stop either. Think of it as a stand-in."

"A permanent stand-in," Molly muttered.

I smiled sadly. The closer we went to the studio, the more I felt like a little piece of me was dying. This was the first time Molly and I were going to the studio without Janice. I missed feeling her presence, even if I couldn't hear her, I could feel her warmth just behind me. I missed her smile, even though I had just seen her that morning. It wasn't the same; Janice was there but she was gone all at the same time. I felt like I should be attending a funeral, not an audition. 

Michelle and Ellen were waiting for us at the studio. The doors were wide open and waiting for the participants to arrive. Molly and I were early, just as Ellen had asked. We walked through the empty waiting room trying not to think of how it would soon be filled with people waiting to take Janice's spot in Revolution.

"'Ello, ladies," I said as Molly and I entered the room.

Everyone was sullen. You would think Janice died from the looks on everyone's faces. They were the same mournful looks you would see at a funeral, or a memorial service. In a way, she did. Janice didn't leave our lives, she was still there for us to love, but she was gone all the same. All of us were grieving the loss of a friend even if she wasn't dead.

I did my best to raise the spirits of everyone in the room. Molly and I sat in the two chairs next to Ellen, with Molly sulking deeper into the plastic chair. I sat straight with a smile across my lips even if I wanted to frown. Someone needed to keep our spirits up or else all of this would be in vain.

"You're in a surprisingly good mood," Mitch commented.

I grinned, "I try."

"She's trying to lift our spirits," Molly sighed.

"Is it working?"

"A little."

"Then, it's worth it," I tapped her nose, causing her to giggle, "All is not lost, yet."