Emma
The fear of walking out of Frewood station alone at night was immediately replaced with a warm familiar feeling, as soon as I was led outside by the dulcet melodious chords played by a street artist's violin.
Something about this place had the incredible capacity of always feeling like home: as if as soon as the locomotive advances in this same direction, all the superficial problems of Swyncoast are silenced and left behind.
I was captivated by my surroundings: the sublime tune, the warm breeze that touched my skin, and the starry sky above me. One step forward and my heart was laying in a feeling of genuine peace.
There's something so pure about this place, about how the old street lamps light the way and how the kids play outside in summertime. The streets are full of laughter and innocence and the old ladies on the balconies watch their grandkids with nostalgic smiles on their faces, tenderness all over their eyes. The residents greet you with gentle words and a kind expression, and everyone knows each other and their stories. Frewood is the true embodiment of home and family.
When I was little I didn't value this place enough, I used to think the dream was to have a big white house in Swyncoast, with a tennis court and a big backyard with palm trees. But no, the dream is to live by the sea, breathe the salt air, feel free, feel full. And no place on Earth could give me those things combined as Frewood did.
Step by step, the heavenly violin's melody had become louder and more perceptible. "La vie en rose" was playing while three little kids danced around the old violinist. He was probably in his sixties. Long gray hair and a beard, and wearing a black French coat that reached his feet. Lying above his leather derby shoes, an orange Persian cat was sleeping peacefully.
I stood there in silence for a minute, just listening, with my eyes closed, absorbing the sweet laughter of the children, the music, and the sound of the train leaving the station. When the time felt right, I slowly allowed myself to come back to reality. Music always had the power to silence my fears for a while. I think it was the only thing that still allowed me to breathe because lately, my mind had more control over my life than me and nothing that I did seemed to be able to change that. But music did, music healed me for a brief second.
With a glance at the train station clock, I noticed it was a quarter to nine. At this time the girls had probably already arrived at the theater so I had to hurry. I opened the second clasp of my guitar case and picked up my coin purse. After making sure I had left enough to buy a bottle of water once I reached the theater, I put some coins on the street artist's violin case to support him.
I had much respect for these people. I think having the courage and ambition to play in the streets in search of something bigger, or just to share your talent and make someone's day better by listening to it is one of the most beautiful things in life. I was inspired by it and every time I saw someone doing it I wish I had their courage.
But this wasn't the first time I saw this man, neither his Persian cat. He usually played next to the station, mainly French songs. After petting and mouthing the little ball of fur in front of me "goodbye", I was ready to turn around when the old man played the last chords of "La vie en rose". A couple that was passing by applauded him followed by the little kids dancing in front of me.
"Are you a musician too?" - the old man asked pointing at my guitar.
"Oh, not professionally. I do it in my free time. We are giving a small concert tonight."
"Oh I see, I used to play with my friends when I was about your age, too. But you know how things are, you graduate, you follow different paths. They all became doctors and businessmen. But an old man has to stick to his true love, you know! And mine his music and little Ellie over there." - he said gesturing to the orange Persian cat.
This man's words reminded me of how fast time has been passing. In a year I will graduate and have to decide what to do with my life. And the truth is, I don't have a clue what to do sometimes. I'm an excellent student, everyone points it out. But what if I don't make the right choice? What if I waste all my potential and live a life of regret? During the last few years, high school brought me some clarity regarding my life's choices. I'd like to work in the health sector or in scientific research, in a laboratory. I'm thinking of applying to med school or biochemistry, but I haven't decided yet. There are just so many things to have in count and the fear of failing has been consuming me. I'm so scared of not being good enough, of not making the right decision or not handling it all, the stress, the pressure... There's also another thing that saddens me, having to probably leave music behind.
"Ellie seems adorable" I managed to respond while adjusting the strap of the guitar case on my shoulder in an attempt to let him know I needed to leave.
"Oh, she is, a bit stubborn too. Just like my Ellie used to be."
"Do you mean your wife?"
"She passed away two years ago." - he breathed in - "Cancer."
Cancer. The word echoed in my mind as a bittersweet memory does and instantly, my grandma and Chase's mum came to my thoughts. I never met my grandma. They found out she had cancer when my mum was pregnant with me. But everyone tells me great stories about her. They all say she was a very hardworking woman, a fighter, a force of living, extremely kind, and always ready to help those in need. One of the reasons I got interested in medicine was exactly because of that, I want to be reminded like her, as someone who did everything she could to help others. If one day I can be half of what she was as a person, I will feel fulfilled, because although I didn't meet my grandma, I feel her inside of me every day. As if her memory was a reminder that everything will be okay, especially when my surroundings try to convince me otherwise.
"The first two months were torture." - the man continued-"With the kids having their own families already, I had the house just for me. I had never been alone for so long before, except when Ellie went to Toulouse to visit her family. We couldn't afford tickets for the both of us at the time because Ellie and I married in the summer of 76 when we were both only 18. Oh! We were crazy in love but we barely had money to do the ceremony!"
The man's words were interrupted by Ellie, the cat, who had woken up and jumped to the inside of the violin suitcase, making me notice a small blue embroidery in it. "Alf Hughes, class of 76"
"I'm so sorry for your wife Mrs. Hughes." - I politely tried to comfort him.
We remained in silence for a while as the man approached the cat and put it on his lap.
"After her death-" he finally kept going" I found my old violin from high school days, in the attic. I restored it, put some new strings on it, and decided to start to play in the streets to cherish people, but mostly to cherish me. I was going crazy all alone by myself in that house when my other Ellie appeared. She was always purring, asking me for food here next to the station. So I decided to adopt her."
I smiled at his words. Frewood never failed to remind me of how we all are humans after all, with different stories and backgrounds, souls trapped between love and loss, survivors, but at the end of the day, humans. Humans who sometimes just need someone to listen to them and their stories. Just like Mr.Hughes was doing with me. But what old people don't know, is that they inspire us by doing it.
"That was very sweet of you. I'm sure she is very well treated now."
"I do my best! I do my best" - he laughed - "Oh! You should go, it's almost nine!"
"You're right" - I confessed- "I'm sure your wife is very proud of the both of you now, Mr.Hughes"
"Good luck with your concert, Miss. Maybe I will hear you playing when I finish my own, here!" - the old man told me, returning a smile.
"I would love that! Good luck for the rest of the evening, Mr.Hughes."
-
The moment I arrived at "The Frewood Art Theater" the tolling of the church's bell marked nine o'clock, and the moment I opened the backstage door, Fleur, Sage, and Gia were already there. The band was formed two years ago, by our music teacher Mr.Garrett. Gia was the drummer, Sage the bassist, and Fleur and me the guitarists. I also sang most of the time.
"She's here!" - Gia shouted at my arrival while twirling her drumsticks in her fingers. She hasn't finished her sentence yet when Sage and Fleur appeared from behind the red curtains of the stage.
"Mr. Garrett said we had 10 minutes to prepare." - Fleur informed me.
"Ten? Where is he?" - I asked.
"Complaining to the soundcheck staff!" - Sage immediately answered.
"Typical!"
The soundcheck didn't take long and at half past nine, we already could hear the noises of the room filling up. Ten minutes after that and what seemed like an eternity of Mr. Garret's encouragement speech, it was time. Gia's mum stepped on stage to announce our performance. It was thanks to her that we had found a place to sing. The theater has been in her family for ages and no other place allowed us to play without demanding a fortune in return.
"Hi everyone! It is a privilege to have you all here today. It is with immense gratitude that we receive these four talented girls, who will be playing for us this evening. This theater is very special to me and my family, and seeing my daughter Gia step on this stage tonight with her friends brings me tremendous joy. But the night is theirs, not mine, so please make some noise for our girls!"
Claps. Screams. Noise. Everything. Nothing at all. Silence.
Disquiet, restlessness, agony. Powerlessness.
The familiar pressure in my chest was
accompanied by distress and fear. Ahead of the audience of strange faces and loud voices, I felt small, fragile, and incapable.
The growing knot persisted, bringing back to the surface a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts as if the anguish that took over my body was kept in a drawer that had now been open.
Feelings that I've been silently carrying for so long and that day after day erased a part of the person I used to be.
Breathe. Breathe Emma.
But it was useless. It was like the small voice inside my head had gone quiet like mine and the only thing I could hear was the sound of my heartbeat. The sound of my pulse echoed in my mind. I instantly noticed I had brought one hand to my chest, that was now covering it.
Breathe. We are not doing this here, not now.
I closed my eyes in an attempt to run away from it all, even if it was only for a brief second, for a glimpse of relief.
Once again, breathe.
In a slow inhale, the cold air reached my lungs, and shivers took over my body as I held my breath, having, for an instant, the feeling of control. I was the one who decided this time. I was the one who decided when to end the serene restlessness, the momentary stillness, the urgent silence of my mind. Not the anxious thoughts, but me. I was the one who decided when to expire.
And so I did, after what it felt like a monotonous eternity. When I slowly allowed myself to open my eyes, my body still numb, I spotted Damian standing in the middle of the crowded room. He was wearing a dark blue sweater, with a white T-shirt underneath and straight jeans. His presence emanated a wave of confidence, but that was no surprise, as he always exuded an air of self-assurance that demanded attention. He ran his fingers through his dark brown messy hair when his gaze turned to the stage direction.
Suddenly, his eyes met mine, replacing the chaos in my mind with a mystifying feeling. And that was the first time I knew. That was the first time I noticed Damian de Loughrey had the incredible capacity to reach into my soul just by looking into the deepest of my eyes. At that moment, I didn't know how to put what his look made me feel into words, but there was something I was certain about: it brought me a strange calm; it brought me peace. It was a glimpse of something I had been searching for so long: serenity.
I was still bewildered by his appearance when a sequence of chords marking the beginning of "Everybody Wants To Rule The World"'s guitar solo echoed through the amplifier behind me. The momentary sound caught my attention, reminding me that everyone around me was ready to start and that the introduction of the first song we were playing had already been repeated two times. I turned around, glancing at Sage, Fleur, and Gia. The fright and trepidation written on their features were noticeable. Despite my fear, I gave them a reticent and hesitant smile as if trying to prove to them and myself that I was ready to start singing. Gia read my signal, starting the drums right ahead, accompanying Fleur's guitar, immediately followed by Sage on the bass.
As the lyrics escaped my mouth, I could hear my voice shaking. Singing in a lower register was still quite scary for me. However, our music teacher was always challenging me to get out of my comfort zone. I've seen improvement from it but that didn't negate the fact that I was always afraid my voice would fail me while performing.
As I sang the first verse, I scanned the theater's audience from right to left, upstairs seats included. I could no longer find Damian and I didn't know why I was searching for him in the first place. As if someone from the staff had read my mind, at that exact moment the public soft lights were turned on and once again, my gaze met him. Damian De Loughrey was right in the middle of the room. He carried a gentle smile on his lips that strangely brought me comfort and safety. I couldn't tell if it happened because he was the only familiar face I could search for in the crowd, but for a moment, I felt that the room was empty. And that feeling remained for the rest of the night as if it was only me and him in that small, dimly lit theater.
-
I was zipping up the case of my guitar when a cheerful voice entered the backstage.
"Ems! You were amazing, oh my God!"
I turned around to spot Fleur in the doorway, who immediately ran towards me, giving me a quick hug. She was a very sweet girl, probably the most energetic person I knew but also incredibly kind to everyone. One of those people that you can tell has nothing but pure and good intentions, from the moment you met them. Fleur had a gentle soul and her internal beauty reflected on the outside. We met two years ago but sometimes I feel that I've known her for a lifetime.
After squeezing me with excitement she let the embrace go, allowing me to observe her big pupils sparkling, reflecting the thrilling sensation of an after-concert.
"I was so scared in the beginning!" - I confessed to her.
"Oh my God, me too. I was shaking!"
We couldn't help but laugh as we reminisced about the concert. In a short amount of time, Fleur had become one of my favorite people in the world, exactly because talking to her is always easy. She really is a great friend.
After a brief pause, she finally confided in me:
"Me and Gia are going to grab some food, I was going to invite you but I think you have someone waiting for you already!" - She gestured towards the room's entrance with her eyes, giving me an honest smile.
"What about Sage?" - I asked.
"Oh! I think she left already with Marcus!"
"Are you going tonight?" - I asked.
"Oh, I'm not. I think I rather spend my evening in the company of fictional men rather than actual men."
"I can't judge you. I would have chosen the same if I hadn't ended up trapped in this party plan by Damian."
"You are going to have fun, Ems! He seems like a good guy!"
"You are the only person who tells me that, you know?"
She shook her head in disapproval.
"Go have fun Ems! You deserve it for once!"
I nodded, hugging her one last time before leaving. Fleur mouthed me a "Have fun" when I nervously looked back before walking in Damian's direction.
As I got closer to his tall figure, the same wave of confusion I had experienced before, washed all over me once more. My mind was full of questions, the answers to which seemed too daunting.
What had happened in the last half hour? What was Damian doing here? Because I certainly didn't expect him to appear at the concert, I thought he was just going to pick me up when it ended.
My mental interrogation was quickly interrupted before I could reflect on the question that intrigued me the most: Why was Damian De Loughrey calming me only with his presence?
"Emma Goodwin, our little hidden talent!" - he shouted from the middle of the corridor. I rolled my eyes at his pronoun choice but the corners of my mouth curved into an involuntary smile.
"Hey!" - I replied, with a quieter tone than usual, as I got closer to him. Damian gave me a quick but warm side hug, not hesitating to compliment our performance.
"You were fucking phenomenal, Ems. For real, what you guys did up there was really cool!"
A genuine smile formed on my face, as an unfamiliar heat rushed through my cheeks, making a shy "Thank you" leave my mouth.
I knew Damian could read my timid expression but he didn't seem to mind about it. Instead, he returned a sweet smile and proceeded to walk us to the front door.
"Why didn't I have a clue you were on a band?" - he asked.
"I guess I don't look like the type of girl who plays the guitar."
"Why do you think that?"
" I have been told that before."
"Why is that so?"
"I don't know... most people look at me and can't imagine me having other interests besides school, I guess"
"Well, I think they are dumb because you look like those people everyone knows will be great at everything they do. It doesn't surprise me that much that you are also great when it comes to music!"
"That's not true!" - I laughed.
"What?"
"I'm definitely not great at everything I do!"
"Well, you are a straight-A student, you sing, you play the guitar, you write songs. Will I find out perhaps you also dance?"
"I used to!"
"Shut up! I wasn't being serious!"
"I swear I did but I quit"
"Why?"
"I barely had time... with school and the band. It started to get complicated"
It was true. A lot of things started to get complicated in my life the moment I entered high school but I wasn't being honest with Damian when I blamed it all on lack of time. What no one knew was that the main reason for me quitting ballet classes was because of how it affected me mentally. In the last few months, every class was like hell. I felt completely disgusted with my body every single second of the 3-hour practice, during the barre, center, and flexibility exercises. All I could think about was the flaws I found in my body every time I glanced at the glass mirror. But he didn't know that, no one did. Not even my parents, only Camila and Fleur.
"I don't think you should stop doing it if it was something you really liked, Ems."
It was. Until I had no more passion or motivation to keep me going. I blame myself a lot, for ruining what once little me used to love. Only because I can't have control over my mind. But I wasn't going to tell him that. Instead, I took a deep breath and pretended that everything was okay.
"Yeah. Maybe I will return someday!"- I smiled. And as I did, I felt like something inside me was being broken, as if my chest was being stabbed by the memories, the guilt, and regret.
"I bet you will have a better schedule at school next year. You should think about it!" - his words seemed genuine but I couldn't give him more than just a nod. Not if I wanted to survive the party we were going to without my mind destroying something that was supposed to be fun, once again.
Damian seemed to have understood my silence. He didn't ask more questions about it. Instead, he remained silent while we walked side by side until we got out of the building. The chilly windy night air tickled my skin making me shivery, which reminded me that I probably should have worn a cover-up.
When we reached the parking lot I looked around searching for Damian's motorbike but all I could see were a couple of cars, including this vintage fancy-looking black one.
"How did you get here?" - I asked him in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
"Your motorbike...it's not here!"
"You don't like motorbikes, remember? Besides, where would you put your guitar?"
And to that I was speechless. Did Damian De Loughrey decide to leave his motorbike home because I had told him I was afraid of riding them?
"Oh...sure!" - I answered after a while, trying to pretend I wasn't surprised by his words.
"Come on, little Ems, or are you afraid of car rides too?" - he teased me, a huge smile of amusement on his face while opening the car door on the passenger side.
hi guys! how are you? First, I wanted to thank you all for 2k reads! I'm forever grateful for everyone who gives my writing a try, for the amazing people I met through writing, and to my friends, who are always ready to help me when I need them, whether it is by reading my chapters or giving me love and support to continue writing them.
I hope you like this chapter! Damian and Emma's story is just in the beginning but they are finally getting closer and I can't wait for you to read the whole thing. First, I just need to write it, but I swear I have most of the ideas for their storyline in my mind already.
I would love to know your thoughts on this chapter. I know this one is a bit longer than usual but I felt that separating it into two parts wouldn't make sense. I'm so sorry if it is too much, I hope you like it still.
Thank you so much if you read until here! It means the world to me <3
I love you and please don't forget to vote and comment if you can!