50. ...Ready For It?

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Knew I was a robber first time that he saw me Stealing hearts and running off and never saying sorry
But if I'm a thief, then he can join the heist
And we'll move to an island-and
And he can be my jailer, Burton to this Taylor
Every lover known in comparison is a failure
I forget their names now,
I'm so very tame now
Never be the same now, now

I-I-I see how this is gon' go
Touch me and you'll never be alone
I-Island breeze and lights down low
No one has to know
(No one has to know)

In the middle of the night, in my dreams
You should see the things we do, baby
In the middle of the night in my dreams
I know I'm gonna be with you
So I take my time
Are you ready for it?
Ooh, are you ready for it?

-

"Continue? Is this- this is the third beginning?" Nayeon asked, eyes lighting up with excitement.

Waving a hand as her face crumpled with amusement, Rosie laughed, "no, no, no. This isn't it. I told you - it's not all in line with our breakups and reunions. This was just ... something. A continuation."

"So you didn't get back together?"

Lips twitching with a faint smile, Rosie shook her head, a wisp of a sigh falling from her mouth as she leant back in her chair, tipping her head back and gripping the arms of the chair.

"No, we didn't. And we weren't exactly friends either. It was just sort of a ... moving on point. We both acknowledged the pain we caused each other and the fact that, no matter how hard we tried, we kept coming back to each other. It was like some inevitable doomed dance, and we couldn't stop it, so we just ... we played it by ear. That was in May ... I went on the next legs of the tour in North America and Europe. I played all the way through to the end of June, back to back shows with barely a day off the whole time. We never talked, we didn't see each other ... but I felt ... content."

She faltered for a moment as a look of fondness softened her face, a gentle warmth to the curl of her mouth and the cracks spider-webbing from the corners of her eyes. Shaking her head once more, Rosie let out a quiet chuckle.

"I still dreamt of her every night though. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't stop wondering when we'd next bump into each other. What I'd say, what we'd do. Honestly, I did delude myself into thinking that we were going to get back together. When she said continue ... I thought that was it. We'd go back to normal. It was a bitter blow to realise the truth, but I took what I could get."

-

The first leg of the North American tour wrapped up in Philadelphia mid-June before Rosie was whisked away to Germany to kick off the small European and Australian leg. She itched to play more shows there, to spend more time in London in between, immerse herself in the crowded cities of old countries where the glamour and glitz of Hollywood were reduced. London was where she was recognised the most often outside of the States, and Rosie wished she could walk the streets of Prague or Barcelona, taking her time to visit museums and tourist attractions like she used to. Instead, she went to Germany and the Netherlands, and back to England for a few shows throughout the UK and two in Melbourne.

It was Melbourne that brought the most relief, although it had been a weight off her shoulders to check in on Clare. Australia was like a breath of fresh air, familiar and comforting, from the street corners that she'd used to stand on and perform with a guitar, to the accents that made her homesick. She spent two days at her family's estate in Boxhill, drinking in the stretch of green countryside and summer flowers, wandering the halls of the house she'd grown up in with a sense of melancholy, thinking of the girl she'd been, riding horses and hating Catholic school. She'd been quick to laugh, fingers always stained with ink as she scribbled down songs, happy and free, without the burning gaze of a magnifying glass over everything she did.

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