"What will it take?" I grabbed both his hands in mine and leaned against him. He has to be on stage in three minutes- I know but I don't care.
"Don't," he pushed me away again but not without giving me one last longing look.
...
GUYS. IM SORRY. I HAVENT UPDATED IN LIKE TWO YEARS I UNDERSTAND THAT THATS INSANE AND FRUSTRATING FOR EVERYONES WHOS READ THIS AND MESSAGED ME AND ILY AND IM REALLY SORRY. BUT HERE I AM AND I PROMISE ILL TRY TO FINISH THIS AND ITLL BE GOOD GUYS DONT GIVE UP ON ME. ALSOALSO I HONESTLY WILL HAVE TO READ BACK AND REMEMBER WHERE I LEFT OFF AND IF THERE ARE ANY INCONSISTENCIES PLEASE LET ME KNOW. THANK YOU AND ENJOY. 🌻🌻🌻
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I have nothing to do. Nothing.
I pick up the TV remote for the ten billionth time and scrolls through the boring channels. Maybe I should just sleep again?
No I'm tired of sleeping so much.
I wonder how he's doing- I wonder how the band is doing. Probably fine, he's probably high.
"UGH," I throw the sheets off of myself and stand up. It's getting dark outside- the sky is a strange shade of dark purple. Strange but beautiful.
Maybe I should eat. I glance at the room service menu and look away. Maybe I don't need to eat. my stomach rumbles in protest. Never mind.
It gets darker and then suddenly I can't take it anymore. I need to get out of this hotel room or I'll go insane. Heading towards my open bag I take out my favorite burgundy dress and decide to go out for food. Quickly getting ready, I throw on a pair of flats, grab my wallet and my phone and head out.
The lobby is crowded, the usual hustle bustle of a posh hotel- bellboys and concierges and important looking business people swarm about.
"Excuse me?" I approached the desk, "Where's the hotel restaurant?"
"That would be down the hall to your right maam," the concierge replied.
I head down and the restaurant comes into my line of sight and I smile, glad I came out of the depressing den upstairs. The place is lit with warm lamp light and a soft rhythmic sound of people talking and cutlery clinking is echoing through the hall.
"Table for one please," I tell the waiter and am seated almost immediately.
Here I am, a woman alone, sitting at a table for one. A year ago I'd have been ashamed of this- I wouldn't have ever come out of the hotel room because I'd have been too scared to be alone. Too scared of what people might think when they look at me- poor girl who got stood up, who has no one to share a meal with.
That wasn't me anymore. I couldn't care less what people thought. I learned a lot of things in the last year and I'm glad this was one of the things- to not give two shits about what people say.
"Are you ready to order?" A waitress breaks me out of my reverie.
"Uh..." I glanced down at the menu in my hands, I'd been so lost in thought I hadn't even read it. "What would you suggest?"
"The fettuccine alfredo is really good," The waitress mumbled- clearly unsure of herself.
"Well then I'll have that." I tell her.
There's a group of young people sitting at the table across me. One of them looks a lot like sophie- my sister. I wonder what she's up to. The girls looks up and makes eye contact with me and I give her a smile.
The food is good but I find myself spacing out- I'd gotten so used to having the guys around, being alone was weird. I mean, I didn't care what anyone thought but a little company is always nice.
I can't get used to being surrounded by so many people all the time, the life I had back home was lonely.
I go back up to the room and as soon as I enter I hear my phone ringing. Where had I left it? I look on the couch and pull the bed covers off and it falls on the soft carpet screen side up and I see Jace's name pop up.
Why was Jace calling me? I'd gotten mad at him the last time we talked and had been ignoring him since. I really didn't want to talk about Colson with Jace and he'd keep telling me things I already know. Even after the divorce Jace had been a constant source of support by telling me just how wronged I was.
I switch my phone off and fall back on the bed and look at the intricate patterns on the ceiling. I feel so useless, my hands itch to do something. Paint. Oh, how I miss the smell of paint.
I close my eyes and welcome the dreams of yellow paint and a broken boy.
***
The light is blinding. I can't open my eyes.
"Ugh," I sit up and realize I didn't close the curtains before sleeping last night and the hotel room is flooded with sunlight.
Groaning I get up and go to the bathroom. The band will be back today, I'm somewhat relieved. I'll have things to do. No more sitting idly and staring at ceilings. Maybe I'll ask Bobby to take me to get art supplies so I could paint. I can't spend the all my time like this.
Coming out I go to my bag and wonder what to wear. It's colder than I thought it would be. I pick out a black turtle neck shirt and brown corduroys. I'm also running out of clean clothes, maybe I can get the hotel to do my laundry.
After getting dressed I decide to go down to the breakfast buffet for coffee. I grab my red jacket and phone and head to the elevator.
It stops on the ninth floor on the way down and a family on three enters, a broad man, a warm woman and their teenage daughter.
"Oh my god," the daughter looked at me, "You're Camilla?"
"Um, yes?" I responded and she squealed. Ouch.
"There were rumors that you and him are here but I didn't believe them," she rambled, "But they were right, wait till I tell Twitter, oh but MGK isn't here right? He's in Glasgow. What are you doing here alone?"
"I stayed back," I faked a smile, not really in the mood for a ramble teenager first thing in the morning.
Sensing my discomfort the mom gives her daughter a look.
"Do you want a picture?" I asked, feeling bad.
"I'd love that," she responded and so we take a picture just as the elevator dings.
"Thank you," the teenager squealed as they leave, I responded with a smile. The lobby is swarming with people and in all the crowd and noise my eyes fall on the man sitting there on the couch, his elbows on his knees, his eyes earnestly looking back at me.
