After I hung up, I stayed in my position. I couldn't believe I just did that. This is what I wanted, right?
As I was thinking this, the bench lowered beside me. I felt it, which meant somebody was sitting beside me.
Brown, scuffed up boots came into view and I knew who it was. I kept my gaze on the ground.
We didn't speak for a while. I just looked at the ground. My mind was blank.
"Where were you?" He asked.
"I saw your performance, Harry."
"I didn't see you. I thought you didn't come."
That made me look at him. His hair was disheveled and eyes were bloodshot. He still wore the same clothes from his last performance. What the hell?
Our eyes soon met, and mine softened at his appearance, but then hardened again.
"Have you been fucking drinking?" I asked, confused.
He bit his lip and looked forward, breaking our gaze. He nodded.
"Harry, I was at your performance. Both of them. I wouldn't miss it for the world." I paused. "I was looking for you after your first, but you dissapeared."
He turned to look back at me, still biting his lip.
"My family came. You should go meet them." He said, changing the subject.
"Don't do this, Harry. Don't change the subject. Why did you dissapeared and why are you drinking?"
He crossed his arms and then his legs. He looked down at the ground.
"You should go meet them. They've been looking for-"
I interrupted him. "Harry, just stop." I paused.
He looked up, still biting that lip.
"Please, tell me what's going on." I begged, sitting up.
He looked back at the fucking ground, not making eye contact with me. He shook his head.
Then, he got up and walked back into the club, leaving me speechless.