Song - Low by the Foo Fighters
An: sorry this chapter is kinda just a filler chapter but I promise there is so much more drama still to come
Brian's POV
"Come on Lola darling, let's get your shoes and coat on. Mummy is outside and I'm not sure how long she will want to stay at the studio" Roger instructed the small child, who obediently pushed herself off the sofa and began putting on her pink pumps, struggling slightly with the laces. Roger made his way into the kitchen, grabbing his coat from the coat racket and pulling it on in the process. Ready to dash out of the door the second things got awkward, the second Victoria demanded it of him. He knew there was no way this could go well.
I stood anxiously in the periphery of the room, willing myself to blend into the mismatched furniture and turn invisible. My hands were coated in beads of sweat, my heart racing. I had always thought this moment would be such a happy one, that I'd be dancing around the room with joy just at the possibility that she was coming back. But now the moment was here, all I could feel was dread.
I was going to watch Roger take the very thing I wanted right in front of my very eyes, all the while trying to plaster an apologetic smile on my face. Knowing that there was nothing I could do to fix this, nothing to take back those hateful words.
Would she even speak to me, or acknowledge my presence? Or would she just waltz in, grab her daughter, and march back out of the studio without a word to any of us with that infamous 'fuck you' attitude of hers? She hadn't come to the studio today for a reason; it would make sense that she would want to avoid me.
Just talk to her. Just apologise and pray that she accepts it.
The indistinguishable twinkle of her laughter floated through the studio corridor, clearly amused at something John had said. It had been over three years since I had heard that voice, but I would recognise it anywhere, as well as the soft music of her soft footsteps. She was here. She was back. She would be in front of my very eyes in a matter of seconds.
Three years, I've been waiting for you to appear. Would you even look the same as you once had? Did I?
And there she was. Just like that, she waltzed into the studio, taking my breathe away, as she always did. She had changed, so much, virtually unrecognisable from the girl who had broken my heart all those years ago, but the effect she had on me was just the same. She didn't even have to try.
The woman in front of me, arms laden with shopping bags, was the woman I had dreamt about for three years. Her once blonde waves were now dyed her natural brown, falling smoothly down her back. She looked slightly slimmer than she once had, the bags under her bright blue eyes more prominent than they once had been, her collar bones and cheek bones protruding through her transculent skin. Her nose had a slight notch in it that hadn't been there before. Other than that, she remained unchanged. I could trace every freckle on her cheek as though I had last seen her yesterday, I could spy the familiar twinkle glistening in her baby blues, noticed instantly the dimples in her cheek as her visage flashed into her familiar smile.
She was so beautiful.
I stood there, in the corner of the room, holding my guitar awkwardly, unable to tear my eyes off her. I drank in every aspect of her appearance, noting every small detail as though it were the last time I would see her. The way the light bounced off her hair, the slightly slower walk she had adopted to accommodate the wedge on her shoes, the way she were nervously chewing her bottom lip, would forever live in my mind. This entire moment would.
I debated say something, anything, but words failed me. All I could do was stare, the world around her blurring into obscurity because she were the only one who mattered. I was vaguely aware of John's presence beside her, but I couldn't fully process it. I couldn't process anything. She gave no hint that she had seen me, stood awkwardly in the periphery of the rehearsal space, instead focusing all her attention on her daughter. Victoria crouched down, placing her shopping bags carelessly on the ground as she pulled her daughter into her arms.
