Fight From the Inside

14 | Spent With High Treason

Madeline's heart felt like it was going to burst through her chest as she grasped Roger's hand; he lead her through the throngs of people, softly smiling back at her as they approached the door.

She internally panicked. Should she tell him outside? Should they go somewhere to talk, like a random bench in a park? Or a coffee shop? Does she hint at a serious subject incoming, or does she spring it on him? Does she ask him if he wants to be with her or does she just make her feelings known? And how the fuck does she play it cool with all these thoughts in her head?

And it was way too late to back out now, she thought, because there's no way Roger would let her drop this, especially after seeing the look on her face.

Shit.

She was so engulfed in her panicked thoughts that she hardly noticed Roger abruptly stopping in front of her and she awkwardly half-walked into Roger's shoulder, smashing her body against his side. Regaining her focus on reality and objects immediately in her trajectory, she'd noticed he'd stopped to talk to someone - a girl, dirty blonde, and slightly taller than herself. She wore a powder blue dress, the hem resting itself against her exposed thighs, white go-go boots laced up past her knees, and her arms were wrapped around his neck in a hug.

"Rog! Holy shit, how've you been? I haven't seen you around in ages!" The girl smiled, surprise still washed over her face in the dim bar lighting.

"Hey! Yeah, a couple of weeks. I've been great, how've you been?"

"Great too. So what's been up?"

"Oh, gigging here and there - you know, the usual."

"Fuckin' sweet. How's that going?"

"Pretty great. We're starting to draw bigger and bigger crowds. We even got a newspaper review of our latest..."

Madeline realized she felt out of place in the conversation and began to zone out, eyeing the door temptingly. Running a finger along the smooth box of cigarettes just inside the first compartment in her purse, she gently nudged Roger and made a smoking gesture with her fingers. Deep in conversation, Roger nodded in her direction, continuing his banter with the mystery girl.

Stepping behind and past Roger, Madeline stuck an unlit cigarette in between her lips, pushing the door out and into the cool autumn evening. She lit the cigarette with her worn black plastic lighter, frowning into the slightly stiff breeze. Puffing on her cigarette and watching the blue smoke drift up into a street lamp and dissipate, she relaxed slightly, letting her thoughts return to what to say to Roger.

She ashed her cigarette and frowned, the breeze picking up and blowing her dark hair into her face. She just needed to be honest about her feelings, which is what Stel would tell her, but that's the hardest goddamn thing to do in the world, isn't it?

She wrinkled her nose and took another drag.

On the other hand, not being honest about her feelings or delaying this any further would likely end up making her a nervous wreck, what with having to constantly balance a "too cool to care" attitude with obviously and nervously caring.

She glanced through the glass door, Roger still deep in conversation with the girl. She still had time to think this through.

And if he shared the same feelings, she truly thought something great would come out of their relationship. They clicked unbelievably well, and within the short amount of time it's been since meeting, she wasn't sure she'd ever felt so close to someone.

She eyed the last half of her cigarette with impatience, knuckles and fingertips beginning to numb at the increasingly stiff breeze.

But what if he didn't? Stella's face popped into her head for the second time, chastising her in her Stella way for thinking in such a daft manner. He clearly did. She thought about the obvious signs and smiled to herself, pulling her thin jacket close to her frame. Who else flirts at a pizza joint? Or dances to Derek and the Dominos? Or kisses in bars? Couples do.

Nodding to herself, she tossed her cigarette out into the street, turning on her heel and heading towards the door. She sighed deeply as she reached for the handle, confident that she'd find the right words for Roger at some point that night.

And then she froze.

Completely oblivious to Madeline standing five feet from him on the other side of a transparent door, Roger was lip-locked with the girl, and Madeline's heart had surely fallen on the dirty ground somewhere, drifting and tumbling away with whatever stray litter was fleeing down the sidewalk from the now stout and angry wind.

And he looked up.

And he saw her.

She stumbled back and her hand flew off the door handle as if it'd bitten her, eyes wide and full of bewilderment, Roger's own eyes quickly following suit as she turned and took off, following the same path as the litter she'd seen flying by seconds earlier. Steady streams of tears coursing down the side of her face and into her ears, the wind stung her eyes almost as much as the suffocating feeling growing in her chest as she tried to navigate the blurry streets, lights and sounds confusing her all the while. She swore at some point she'd heard Roger yelling her name in the midst of her wild twists and turns through people and down random streets, but she wasn't sure she cared.

After what felt like an eternity of running, she leaned against the freezing brick of the lucky building next to her, desperately trying to appease her angry lungs in between sobs and smoker coughs. Wiping the mascara tears from her face with the inside of her jacket, she was sure she was smearing all kinds of black shit all over her face as strangers passing by side-eyed her with a mixture of concern and aloofness, not one of them stopping to ask her if she was okay.

Typical fucking London.

She frowned. Eyes focusing slowly in the obnoxiously lit blustery night, she spotted a payphone.

Jogging over to the booth with what little energy she had left, she slammed the door shut and dialed one of the few numbers she'd had memorized, tapping her foot impatiently.

One ring. Two. Three.

Fuck.

Four. Five-

"'Allo?"

"Stel, it's me."