Good For Gone

Burnt

Everyone was staring at me.

My throat was dry, no lyrics could come out, and it left an obvious gap in the song.

Lorne looked sideways at me, but I had no idea how to communicate what I was happening. I didn't even know if it was worth the reaction I was giving it.

But that face, that quick glimpse of a face that almost looked familiar. It made me shake so much my teeth began to chatter.

I'd never been on this side of town aside from my morning visits when I knew I wouldn't see him even if he was real.

I'd gone this whole time not wanting to know. But now I had to.

I walked off the stage, the music cutting off awkwardly as I wove through the tables towards the door.

Pushing past two people coming back from a smoke break I was hit with the cold air. My dress was a turtleneck but sleeveless, so they kind of negated each other.

I swung my head around rapidly, trying to see where he could have gone in the dim light.

The street was filled with people, but I didn't let it stop me. I needed to know. I couldn't keep fooling myself.

I tore through the people, doing my best to comb through them as fast as possible.

I didn't even try one man until I felt the way he flinched when I rubbed against him.

When it hit me I turned to the man. It was hard to make out his features in the orange street light.

He was wearing a dingy coat that smelled like dirty cat litter. A thick scraggly beard failed to cover a deeply engrained burn scar that crawled up his neck.

His cheeks were sunken in and a knit cap shielded a lot of his face from the cool air, but I could still see those eyes.

How could I forget them, I'd seen them dead and alive.

"Peter?" I breathed.

His eyes, tired as they were, lit up just a bit as I said his name.

He looked me over, smiled softly, and said, "Hey Bo."

I suddenly felt self-conscious of my heeled boots and heavy jewelry that clinked together with every ragged breath.

He was living on the streets, God knows how he'd gotten all the way here, and here I was with highlighted hair and a fresh manicure.

But all he said was, "You must be freezing," As he shed his coat and held it out to me.

I wanted him to put it back on and stop acting silly, but I was so stunned by the whole thing I took it and slipped it on anyway.

The smell that radiated off of it, although fowl, smelled like him. The very specific smell that reminded me of easy summer days a long way from here.

We just sort of stared at each other for a minute. I was still shaking but I don't think the cold was the main contributor anymore.

And then I had the overwhelming urge to hug him. I threw my arms around him, the heels actually allowing me to reach his neck.

After a second of hesitation, I felt his arms circle around my waist and tighten.

I nestled my face into his shoulder. The last time I was here, I thought I'd never see him again.

But he was here, even if he was so different. I could feel the ridges of his spine under my arm and his hair, which had only been about chin length the last time I saw him, was tied into a ratty ponytail.

All the questions boiled in the back of my mind, but I subdued them. For now, all I wanted was this, just the feeling of him being here and okay.

"Bowen?" I heard Tony call as he walked towards us.