24 - Departure

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Throughout the rest of the night, it seems, I can't get a nice moment to reflect alone, as so many dancers and Stars are constantly coming up to me, congratulating me on making it this far, and wishing me luck for my trip home. I don't need luck, I need something to save me from having to go.

Tom and Erin have yet to announce my departure, if they even will tonight, even though Harry and I were already announced safe for next week.

Afterwards, Harry and I were left to roam. I go off on my own with headphones over my head on nearly full blast. Nuclear by Mike Oldfield plays while I dawdle about in the corridors and numerous practice rooms. I'm not sure if Harry is still following me or not.

Towards the end of the show, I presume, my question is answered when Harry taps on my shoulder, pulling me out of my trance. I look up, and the room is brighter than I remember it being, and Harry's body just blends in with it, making me think he's like an angel, it a ghost, ready to which me away, holding me captive so I don't have to leave. I'm not sure if I would object or not.

"Nic, they're calling us to the stage." He pulls me by my arm when he realizes I'm not going to willingly follow him. "C'mon, darling."

"Whatever it is can't be that important." My voice seems low, airy, like it hasn't had time to warm up for public use. I don't care anymore.

Harry's grip isn't tight, so I slip my arm awry from his grasp, drawing back into the music that never seems to be loud enough.

Because music wasn't made to block out thoughts, only the real world. Both are unbarable to deal with.

"Love, please. It's about you. They've just announced who was eliminated."

I don't want to go, I don't want to hear the story, albeit false, once again. How long must I lie before I gain the courage to tell the truth?

Either way, I follow behind him, his hand grabbing mine just to make sure I don't run away. Maybe for moral support too.

"Do you know who was eliminated?" I don't care that my voice broke in the middle of my sentence.

"Lorde and Derek. Is it bad to say I wish it was us?"

A few hours ago, I would have said yes, but now? I'm not sure. Everything seems so real now. After the show ends its over. My departure is inevitable.

I don't reply. I want him to stay optimistic about this season. I want him to drive to win, or at least keep going after I've left. I know he can.

We arrive at the side of the stage. I catch eye contact with Louis across the way. He looks annoyed, but an underlying emotion is also present in his demeanor.

I'm not sure how long we were out on stage. Harry kept his hand around my waist as Tom quickly explained to the camera and the audience whatever story he was told. I'm not sure if he went into full detail, or if he even explained why I'm leaving at all. My ears refuse to listen.

_-_-_

Some of the dancers and even some Stars invited me out tonight. Maybe it's to just spend some time together before I go, or maybe it's a celebration that I'm finally returning to Ireland. I don't understand why anyone would want to celebrate with me over that, but I keep reminding myself that they don't know I left on bad terms with everyone.

I decline all their offers in the nicest way possible. I'm not trying to be rude, but it's a bit hard when all the these people who didn't care much about me before, suddenly think they can step up to the plate right as I'm about to leave. Sadly, that's how people generally works. Nobody notices you until you're gone, or just about to be.

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