Travelling River

Eight

{Juniper}

"Oh June-y!"

I look up, it's Hazel, who else could it be. She's the only one who calls me that, the only one I allow to call me that. I'm in the middle of putting on mascara, tongue hanging out of my mouth while I'm concentrating. "Mhh?" Hazel sits down on the table that's in front of me. I'm sitting in my dressing room, it's just your typical backstage room really. Huge mirror on the wall, make-up lights surrounding it, table under it along the whole wall. In the corner there's a little sink, barely big enough to wash your hands in. Behind me there's a rack of clothes, they're my outfits for the show, they still need to be steamed from being all cropped up in my suitcase. "How you feeling today, little sunshine?" I smiled, if anyone was a ray of sunshine, it was Hazel herself. "Quite okay, a little nervous." Hazel nods. What she doesn't know is that I didn't just mean the show, but also meeting this fan from instagram. I'm starting to doubt if I made a bad decision, trusting them like that. I did feel a little stupid not having told anyone about it. "Well, I'm gonna help set up the merch, you'll know where to find me if you need me!" Hazel says, as she jumps on her feet and walks away, giving a little wave while walking out the door. I take a deep breath, just have to finish my make up, and curl my hair, nearly ready. But just as I pick up my curling iron, I hear knocking on my door. "Yes?", the door opens and it's Bobby. "Visitor for you." He says with the most dead face I've ever seen, he doesn't seem amused. He stares at me, waiting for my reaction. "Oh?" I try and play it of cool, I don't need him telling me off and reminding me I should focus on the show. "Who is it?" I ask. "Some Guy named River, said he'd meet you at 11." I chuckle nervously, "Oh! Right, completely forgot, old friend. Nearly ready." He grumbled something and left, he can be such a sour old man sometimes. I promise Bob is such a kind soul, it's just whenever there's business to be handled, he can get a bit.. cranky.

Another knock on my door, "Come in." I mumble with a bobby pin between my lips. The door opens slowly, very carefully, as if the person opening it is scared of hitting something behind the door. "Hi, uhm, hello." His voice sounds trembly, clearly nervous, but it also sounds dark and warm, as honey spread out on a freshly cut, warm slice of homemade bread. I didn't expect Bob to send him in, as cranky as he was, I'd honestly expected him to make the guy wait outside. Not that it matters, he's here now, and I didn't mind him being here, that is if he doesn't murder me after all. "Hi, you can come in, River is it, right? I'm nearly done." I look at the clock and see that it's already way past eleven. "Shit." I mumble under my breath. River, who now had come in fully and had closed the door behind him, looked up. His lips moved, as if he wanted to ask what I had said, but nothing came out. "Sorry, I have not kept track of the time, I swear I'm almost finished." What a way to treat someone you meet for the first time. I mean, being late definitely wasn't something new for me, it happened more often than not, but I wasn't proud of it. "Oh, it's okay, don't hurry for me." He still sounds nervous, clearly not in his element.

By the time I finished, it was closer to 12 than 11. River had sat and waited on the small couch that was standing across the other wall, behind me. Sometimes I would catch his eyes looking at me through the mirror, but more often than not he was staring at his own feet. I felt a little guilty for making him wait for me. "I'm glad you found your way to the backstage, I completely forgot the time." I smile at him as I turn around in my chair, looking directly at him now. He smiles, it's genuine, "It's okay, I was actually a bit late myself, even though that never happens." He laughs a little, "None of my alarms went off, of course something like that happens on a day like this." I laugh, "Typical huh." I realise I have not thought through at all what I'm going to do with this guy. I have calmed down about the whole murder thing, he doesn't seem capable of that, but then again, you never know. Just to be sure I write on a little note, Gone to grab lunch, be back later. That way, at least they know where I am. "How about we grab something to eat, now that I've taken so much time to get ready, it's practically lunch time." He nods as he stands up, pulling his pants straight. While he stood up, I spotted he was wearing bright coloured socks, with little ducks on them. "Definitely not a murderer." I whisper to myself.