My New Obsession [BxB]

Chapter Eighteen- Sometimes I Think I'll Die Alone

 When I woke up in the morning, George was asleep on the bed and I had fallen asleep leaning against it. I stood up and stretched, clicked my back, and walked over to the window. The sun had risen and after looking at the clock on the wall I knew it was nine-thirty; we had a couple of hours yet before the interview. I was already nervous. Maybe that’s why I had woken up so early? It’s normal- apparently- to wake up earlier than usual if you’re anxious.

 What kind of questions would we be asked? What if we gave the wrong kind of answers? What if everyone else was great and I reverted back to my silent, introverted ways?

 I couldn’t afford to be introverted anymore if I was going to be in a band. People don’t pay to see someone just stand there and play guitar. They want a show. They want people to move around, fuck shit up, interact with the audience. I had to be their entertainer as well as a metaphorical and sometimes literal shoulder to cry on.

 I jumped as arms wrapped around my waist. George kissed my neck and rested his chin on my shoulder.

 “What’re you thinking about?” he asked me.

 “I want to go for a walk. Come with me?” I asked. He nodded.

 We crept downstairs and checked on the others- all of whom were fast asleep- before leaving the house. We held hands and it was bright but cold out, our breath fogging in the air. I subconsciously walked us to my mother’s house and stood outside the gate, staring up at the place that used to be my home. It had been a long time since I had visited and I felt strangely guilty for that.

 “Why have you stopped?” George asked me.

 I continued to stare at the house.

 I was supposed to be looking after my mother. How long had it actually been since I had last seen her? I’d always vowed to myself that I would take care of her, for dad, but I had abandoned her now. I was going away tonight- did she even know? Had I told her?

 George sighed and took a step towards the house, but the front door opened and revealed my mother in the doorway.

 “Mum…” I murmured. I didn’t move.

 “James?” she said. “George? For pity sake, you frightened me… Why are you two just standing out there? Come inside, you idiots.”

 Yes. That was definitely my same old mum. Only not old. Rather young, in fact. She disappeared back into the house and so I allowed George to pull me up the path and through the front door. We followed her into the kitchen and she flicked on the kettle whilst we sat at the kitchen table.

 “How are you, mum?” I asked her. She started to babble on about things that didn’t really matter; how her work was, how things with Mr Hughes were going… and so on. I watched her fly around the kitchen as she made us coffee, and not once did she look at me.

 Eventually she had no choice but to put the cups in front of us and sit down. It was silent all through the house. We all simultaneously took a sip of our coffees. I lowered my cup back to the table slowly and stared at it. Mum cleared her throat a little but didn’t speak.

 “Well…” George said quietly. “…I’ll be back in a minute- bathroom.”

 He left the room swiftly and we sat in silence for a bit longer. I knew that he would stay away long enough for us to talk.

 Mum sighed, leant across the table and clasped my hands.

 “I miss you, baby boy.” she said quietly.

 “I know, mum. I miss you more.”

 “No. Not possible.”

 “Wanna bet?”