CHIM - Life in the limelight SEQUEL

Chapter 1

*

I sit on my best friend’s sofa, my legs tucked under myself, my eyes stuck to the flat screened plasma TV stood directly in front of me on a black glass stand. I can’t seem to tare my eyes away despite an overwhelmingly nagging feeling of wanting to. I wiggle my toes, the cream rug tickles my exposed skin and I can hear Sarah talking to Alaina as she walks in from the kitchen. Alaina is giggling, it’s my favourite sound in the world but its mixing with the sound from the TV that I’ve just turned up and I remain glued too. I see Cheryl’s face as a familiar looking woman talks about her on some corny news report on a stupid music channel that plays the same tedious songs over and over. They’re talking about what I have done to her, I hear my name and I begin to feel sick. I’m tired of feeling sick, I touch my tongue to my dry lips and I refuse to let myself blink. If I blink her face might disappear, I miss looking at it but I see it everywhere. Everywhere I go I see her face or I hear her name because the media are fascinated by her life, they’re trying to find out the ins and outs of where she’s been because she’s been out of the public eye for longer then she should. They know she’s hiding away just as much as I do and when I return my attention back to her face on the screen of some wall behind a random presenter the TV is shut off. I’m suddenly staring at a black screen and I’m being spoken to. “Stop doing this to yourself”

“I was just … i-“ My lips barely move. I’m looking at Sarah blankly trying to keep up the innocent act that could never fool anyone let alone her. She’s been there for me through the thick and thin by now she knows me inside out, better then I know myself.

“I know what you were doing, you’re going to send yourself insane” Sarah looks at me sympathetically while sitting down next to me and she stands Alaina on the floor but she takes a steady step forward to lean onto her legs once the small pot of strawberry yogurt is in sight along with her own plastic spoon Sarah had nipped into the kitchen to get from the overly large and junk filled baby bag hanging from the handles of the black and white McLaren pushchair that I look out of place pushing along the street I am currently living on. I watch Sarah interact with my daughter and I find myself laughing in amusement. She’s hovering the spoon in the air, it gets close to Alaina’s lips before she pulls it away causing the 18 month old whine and move her head in the direction of the spoon as she follows it with her dark, chocolate painted eyes. “Say Sarah, Sa-rah!”

“She’s not going to say it” I laugh again looking at the petite face looking up in confusion at my insane best friend.

“You will won’t you? Sa-rah! … Oh come on, you’ve said it before… Sa- okay, I give up”

I shake my head, a small smile still lingering on my face. “Good. Maybe now you could stop teasing my daughter, please?” I joke and she gives in finally spooning the fruit filled treat between her pink lips into her waiting mouth. I’m very much aware of the state I must look today, I’m wondering why Sarah hasn’t yet made a joke about my bloodshot and dark shadowed  eyes or my messy hair in a bun on top of my head. I’m surprised its taking her this long to comment, maybe she’s just used to seeing me look like this now. Sleep deprived and exhausted both physically and mentally. She’s done more than just brush away my tears when I’ve cried and offered me a much needed shoulder to cry on, she’s taken on my responsibility of being Cheryl’s PA not that she’s needing one at the minute. Sarah left her last job to take on mine and I’ll never be able to say how thankful I am for that. With Cheryl refusing to see me but demanding the girls every weekend Sarah has had to be the middle man, she’s the breath of fresh air that fits everything together for us. She’s been a god sent, I feel a twang of guilt inside me every time I think about all the things she has to do for me and how little I do for her  but she doesn’t mind and if she does she doesn’t voice her complaints. I don’t know what id do without her and I hope I never have to find out.