Standing on the edge of the stage, I looked across at Lisa, who was stood at the back of the room and smiled at her. It wasn't even the nerves that were getting the better of me. It was one thing in particular that was getting over my mind and taking over the space in my brain that should have been focusing on the rehearsals for the big performance this weekend - George. Moments before I got onto the stage, my phone buzzed. I opened up the text from George to only be able to read the first few words of his message before Lisa ushered me down the corridor towards the stage, where Ed was waiting for us to rehearse our duet ahead of this weekend’s concert.
The words kept replaying in my mind as the sound engineers altered the equipment on the stage and the lighting directors experimented with different lighting sequences - ‘I’m your supposed boyfriend yet..’ There was so many different ways that message could end. He could be joking and saying he’s seen paparazzi photos with me and some celebrity I’d met in Los Angeles, or some ridiculous rumour he’d picked up on Twitter. But then there was the other end of the possibility spectrum. He could be really upset with me. I hoped it was the first one, but in my heart I knew it would be the second one.
My mind kept replaying the words as I tried to focus on the rehearsals but the trying turned into a possibility. Luckily, by the time we finished the first run through, a speaker decided to blow a fuse, causing the directors of the concert to cancel the rest of the rehearsals and just to reschedule the run through until the morning of the concert - Saturday.
As soon as I got out of the arena and into Lisa’s car, I reluctantly read the rest of the message.
“I’m your supposed boyfriend yet I feel like a complete stranger to you. You hardly have time for me and it feels like you’ve forgotten that I even exist. I know you’re some big hot shot now in Los Angeles and I’m proud of you, but I wish you weren’t such a complete ass about it.”
My heart sank and my worry was filled with a surprise emotion of anger. Instead of replying, I shoved my phone into the pocket of my hoodie and slouched back into the car seat, pretending like nothing had happened.
Sat on the edge of the steps of the villa, looking out at the waves as they crashed onto the shore, I wrapped my arms around my chest as the cool ocean breeze blew along the beach. Looking out at the horizon, I sighed to myself as my phone vibrated on my lap for the second time. Hesitantly, I picked my phone up and unlocked the screen to view the text message that was evidently from George. "Are you okay to talk or have you got things more important to do than talk to your supposed boyfriend?"
I didn't even reply by text, instead, I pressed 'call' and put the phone to my ear aggressively. As I waited for George to pick up, I heard some clattering noises coming from inside the villa behind me over the international dialling tone. Getting up off the steps, I walked across the sand and down the beach, waiting for him to pick up as my anger raged inside, "Hello?"
"What the fuck did you mean by that text?" I scowled down the phone. "Supposed boyfriend? You are my boyfriend, you know you are, so why say that?"
"How am I supposed to react, Sammy? You're on the other side of the world to me and I don't know when you're gonna be back. We might as well just end everything we've had and got if this is how it's gonna be like."
"Gonna be like what?" I asked, confused as to where this was coming for.
"I really can't be doing with this anymore, Sammy," George snapped. "You've been gone for three weeks now. I've been trying to make time for you but you can't do the same for me."
"I've made time for you. Our nightly phone call is 1pm here and 9pm there - just like we agreed the other week."
"Oh, one hour slot each day for me? Is that it?" George asked. “Is that all I mean to you? Do you really think that one hour a day is enough? Is that all I deserve? Sixty minutes out of your entire day?”
I sat down on the sand with my feet dipping into the water as the waves came closer to me. "I didn't mean it like that. You know how much this means to me but you also know how much you mean to me. I know I've been a bit of an ass but it's just everything has changed in my life so much and it's hard to keep up. You won't understand."
"Why won't I understand?" George asked. "Is it because I'm not as successful as you? You've not even tried to talk to me about it. Instead of talking to me about your schedule for the next week or which other famous people live by you every night, why don't you tell me about the things that actually matter to me, like how you feel?"
"I don't know," I shrugged, feeling a little defeated.
"Call me when you get back or something. I don't care anymore."
Before I had chance to reply, the phone line went dead. I sat looking at my phone, stunned at George's reaction. As a tear trickled down my cheek, I shoved my phone into my hoodie pocket and stared out into the ocean. My hair was flowing as the breeze rushed past me. The waves gently trickled through my legs as the tide slowly came into shore.
"Sammy," Lisa called from the steps to the villa.
Turning around, I wiped the tears away from my eyes and faked a smile. "Coming."
*
Sat at one end of the dining table, I stabbed my fork into the pile of noodles on the plate. Lisa, who was sat on the opposite side of the table to me, smiled at me as I glared emotionlessly at the noodles. "What's wrong?" Lisa asked, sounding concerned as I continued to stare at the noodles. "Missing George?"
"No," I snapped.
"What's wrong then?"
I looked up from the noodles on the plate to Lisa. "Do you think I'm a bitch for agreeing to come to America for this long, leaving everyone behind?" I asked Lisa.
"Honestly?" Lisa asked. "No. I think you've done the right thing. I know you'll think it's a bit heartless me saying this but you signed up for The X Factor to get a singing career, not fall in love. This time in America is gonna further your career. If George loves you like he says he does, he'd understand."
Lisa smiled at me before standing up and carrying her plate into the kitchen. I sat staring at the noodles, lost in thought. A part of me wanted to agree with Lisa, but I couldn't help feeling guilty and selfish for doing it.
"What has George said?" Lisa asked as she returned into the dining room and sat on the chair closest to me.
"He said he doesn't care anymore."
Lisa shook her head. "Trust me, Sammy. People say they don't care when they do care - they care more than they want to let on."
"But I have been a bitch to him recently. How can I expect him to be okay with talking to me for one hour every day?"
"Sammy," Lisa said, taking hold of my hand over the dining table as I began to fret over everything I had done wrong. "What about the days when George was in the studio from the moment he woke up to the moment he went to sleep at night - or early the next morning? He didn't contact you at all. Neither of you are perfect in this relationship but by God, he's twenty and you're turning nineteen in a week. You're still young. This is both of yours' first proper relationship. You're gonna have flaws. It's like a music career - relationships take a hell of a lot of time, effort and, more importantly, it takes a lot of mistakes."
I shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know what to think, let alone say.
"Why don't you turn what you wanna say to George into a song?" Lisa smiled to me, reaching over to the sofa and grabbing a notebook and pen. "Some of the best singles released in history were written after a break-up."
"So George can accuse me of being Taylor Swift 2.0?" I laughed as Lisa handed the notebook and pen to me.
Lisa shrugged her head. "Writing a song will let you get your emotions out without him being able to say anything. It'll be your song - your story."
I sat looking at Lisa about it for a while before reluctantly agreeing to do it.
*
Sitting on the terrace as the sun went down over the calm ocean, I looked at the blank page of the notebook that I held in my hand. It seemed like I was the only person alive on Earth at that moment. There wasn't a single sound, apart from the soft lapping of the waves on the beach below. Closing my eyes, I began to think of where to start the song. I had no idea of how to write a song about how I felt, especially when I didn't know how I felt. I didn't even understand why we were arguing - George usually didn't blow off like this when I was away or was working on my music for all hours of the day. All I knew was I didn't wanna stay mad at him.