Band On The Run

Doll Parts

I felt as if I was only doing a few things lately. The first one was fighting in the studio then came attending charity events, and chasing after Seth. It was just my luck combined the latter two as a direct result of the first. Oddly enough I couldn't remember the last time any music was actually created.

And it was made all the worse by how bloody typical it was.

The looks I'd gotten as I walked in were bad enough. I didn't consider myself an especially suspicious person, but there were only so many gossip magazines articles one could read about themselves and hear "industry rumours" until that changed. The way I was met by raised eyebrows and too kind smiles did nothing to ease my mind. I couldn't help it. Maybe I couldn't hear the whispers, but I swore I could feel them, little pinpricks that cut deeper than any tattoo gun could.

It was made no better by the fact that I knew most of these people, a lot of them by no fault of my own. The room was filled to brim; actors, musicians, socialites, journalists, and all other sorts of relatively famous people vying for space with one another. I'd been forced to move through the same circles as them for years. And here they were, whispering behind hands with smug smirks just seconds after I'd passed by.

At the very least I'd never been naive enough to consider them friends. I wasn't close with any of the people who were gossiping about the stories of my band and relationship falling to pieces before my eyes. But I wasn't really close with anyone anymore, least of all my band.

And there was no doubting that it showed. Because there had been a table reserved for my band tonight, having demanded that we were the only four sat it, despite the performance that was supposed to take place. I found the table pristine; the table cloth perfectly smooth, complimentary wine glasses untouched and chairs still tucked in. So maybe I couldn't blame the rumours if they were true.

The thought had a rather distinct lump in my throat forming. The room was dark, lit by candles and flash of jewellery, filled with the smell of expensive perfume, the chatter in the room pairing with the husky music to create an intimate sensation and I felt like there was a bulls-eye on my back and a stark spotlight shining on the top of my head. I was stood in the dress that Maureen had sent to the apartment and heels that were already pinching my toes and makeup to try to mask just how tired I really felt. It felt like everyone could see that I wasn't really supposed to be standing here with them. I'd never really belonged in this world, no matter how much I elbowed my way in, and it always became so obvious when I was alone.

I could feel the urge to run pulsing through my veins, starting down at the uncomfortable heels and making its way up my legs until it was throbbing through my head.

Yet somehow the moment Seth stepped onstage without as much as an introduction, the rest just fell away. It was pathetic. I was pathetic. But what could I do to change? I'd tried time and time again, nothing changed. I thought even Seth had attempted to stop me from looking at him like some deranged fan girl – that would at least explain the cruelty, and it still did nothing.

All the thoughts about empty seats where our band should've been fell away as he began to play the black acoustic guitar he had strung over his shoulder. No fuss at all. It didn't even matter that he didn't spare me as much as a glance. I didn't think it had ever really mattered. He could have never sent me a second look and it wouldn't have changed anything for me.

Seth started his hour long set with a Spares' song, of course. It wasn't a hit, though, just one of the tracks off the first album yet the cheers and applause were deafening in the hall. I didn't feel an ounce of jealousy that had become common between all of us lately. I was quite content to be just another member of the crowd, standing behind a chair at the only empty table in the whole venue, hands curling into the skirt of my pale pink dress.