No. 1 Party Anthem// Alex Turner

11 Jack (before)

I closed my eyes, trying to capture every second of that moment. The cold bed sheets wrapped around our hot bodies. His fresh scent, his burning skin, his golden-blonde hair and his arm pulling me closer. When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me and didn't seem to be as happy as me. «Something's wrong?» I asked.
He faked a smiled. «No,» he lied. «everything's all right.» I laid back my head on his chest, it went up as he started talking again. «No,» he repeated. «nothing's alright,» he said. I looked up and faced him. «I have to move to England.» he said.
I stared at him trying to formulate what he just told me. I looked down and frowned. «What? Why?» I asked.
«My job, I wanted to tell you before, but I didn't know how.»
«But what about your band?» I asked him.
Jack was the drummer for a metal band, that played some gigs every now and then.
He smiled. «Baby, there's no future for that band.»
«I can't ask the guys to move to England, we don't have the money.» I said panicked.
«I'm not asking you to move.» he said. «Don't get me wrong, I would want to, but I realize it's too much to ask.»

I wore his t-shirt over my knickers, I felt like it was something we shouldn't have talked about naked. My fingers ran through my hair, my elbows on my knees. He was walking back and forth, just with his shorts on. He was waiting for me to talk first, but I had too many question and things to say filling my head, that my voice didn't want to say.
He stopped right in front of me, I looked up from the blue carpet between us. «I really want you to go,» I said. «I don't wanna be the one to force you to stay, but really, everything is just going wrong: first the money and Jess, now this...» I spoke, suppressing my tears.
«I'm sorry, Sara.» he said, bypassing the carpet, to approach.
I looked at him sitting next to me. «God I hate this.» I sniffled. «How will we communicate? I mean, we barely speak now, immagine when you'll be in England.»
He nodded not knowing what to say and I sighed. I rested my head on his shoulder and he stretched out his arm around mine. «So this is it?» I asked.
«We can still talk to each other,» he said. «but a relationship...» he sighed. «a relationship would be too hard.»
I slowly nodded as a teardrop ran away from my eye, but I wiped it out with my hand, before it could reach my chin.

In six months, I said goodbye to Jack and started to be less happy than usual: I missed him everyday, after every text that seemed forced. The only good thing about Jack's farewell, was the inspiration he gave me for new songs, I wrote every single thought that came to my mind and day by day, they became songs, that seemed to be appreciated by the listeners.

Maybe if Jack hadn't gone to England, everything would have been different, but I didn't know it yet, to me, that was a tragedy.