A Dreamers Dream

Sammy. Dublin, Ireland.

Despite the fact that she's only been on the tour for a few shows, setting up the barriers without Maddie chatting away at my side feels wrong somehow. I've gotten used to the easy banter between us and having to pick up after her clumsy arse.

I don't tend to bond with other women all that well, something to do with my bad attitude according to my mum. Still, with her, I felt a kinda instant connection, probably cos she's just as mouthy as I am I suppose. Since her 'accident' though, Paul's had her on light duties, which is probably for the best really given she's all one-handed and shit, but it's meant that I've barely seen her.

By the time I got back to our room after the last show in Glasgow, she was already curled up in bed, purposefully facing the wall, pretending to be asleep. I say pretending, cos it's bloody obvious to anyone with eyes that she's barely been sleeping at all, the dark circles surrounding hers prove that.

She's been a totally different person to the loud, happy girl I met in Birmingham since her interview with that fucking creep though. God, what I wouldn't give to get five minutes alone with that arsehole! He deserves more than a knee in the dick after what he said and did to her.

Even Clark, who is like, the most laid-back bloke I've ever met, was desperate to go to his office before we left town and give him what for, but neither of us really felt like we could leave Maddie alone. To be fair, it would probably have just traumatised her more if I'd let him go beat the shit out of Novak, no matter how much he deserved it.

The night Mad's told us what had happened, Clark ended up sleeping on the floor between our beds in our tiny hotel room bless him, his long limbs curled up under a threadbare blanket. Thank fuck no one spotted him leaving the next day.

We'd have been the talk of the crew if they'd put two and two together and come up with five, in the way that anyone would seeing a bloke leaving the hotel room of two girls first thing in the morning. And since then, one of us has tried to be with her as much as possible, but there are some things we can't control, like our work schedules.

I hate seeing her so broken, but I know it's much worse for Clark. He looks at her like his kid sister, and I can only imagine what my family would do if someone tried to force me to do something like that against my will.

Despite us both telling her she needs to, there's one thing that Maddie still hasn't managed to do yet, and that's talk to H. I noticed as we got off the plane in Glasgow that she didn't even bother to turn her phone back on after switching it off for the flight. She just tucked it into her suitcase and, as far as I can tell, it's still there now, I guess she got tired of dodging his calls. I don't know how long she reckons she can avoid him for, he's the sodding star of the show after all, at some point, she's going to have to face him, like it or not.

I flick my eyes up to the stage where H and the band are running through soundcheck and take a long hard look at his usually too beautiful-for-his-own-good face. Even I can see that he's not himself. His usual cheeky smile is missing as he goes through the motions with the band, strumming away on his guitar to Two Ghosts, but seeming like he's a million miles away. I guess I'm not the only one who felt a connection with Maddie, looks like her avoiding him is starting to take its toll.

As the band start up another track, I make my way backstage to grab a quick drink before I head off to help set up the B stage. I know I'm a fucking coward, but honestly, I've been avoiding H nearly as much as Mad's has been the last couple of shows.

It's not like I know him well or anything, he's certainly never driven me around in some stupidly expensive posh rental car, mores the pity. Still, I do know him well enough to know that he's not stupid, he's well aware that Maddie and I are friends and that we've taken to rooming together. I figure it's only a matter of time before he starts asking me why she's avoiding him, and I'm a shit liar, there's no way he'll believe that I don't know.