Bed of Roses

Chapter 18

ACT 3 - DAWN

"It's the moment night time seems weaker and everything seems easier to figure out"

Chapter 18

You could listen to Stevie's sweet voice as Silver Springs filled your new flat, the boxes filled with your books, the wooden floor covered in your favourite tapestry, the smell of incense in the air. Even though it was raining outside, you had a big, warm smile on your lips - the rain was only another reason for it. You felt home.

You were back in London, a week away from starting your new job in the British Museum. Your biggest life goal, now true. You couldn't believe it.

It was like all pain and suffering on your way to that moment, that precious moment unpacking your things on your first day back in London, made sense. Life couldn't be simple and easy all the time - there's no point in it. But it could be some simple and easy some of the time, like it was now.

You were scared you'd go back to the dark places in your mind you were the last time you've been in London, but as soon as you passed through your old neighbourhood on your way to your new flat, you didn't feel sad - not even when you thought of Roger.

Actually, Roger was all around you.

You wanted to call him as soon as you read the letter in your loft, a month ago, where your new colleague said he admired your work at the Met the last time he visited, and now that the British Museum Curator for the Metal Age Collections was retiring, he couldn't help but think of you - especially when he did some research and found out that you were already familiar with London, studying and working there years before.

You sat on the floor on your loft, in shock. You wondered if this was real, if this was actually a letter you received. It was the letter you've always dreamed of receiving.

And now it was right in front of you.

You felt overwhelmed at first, and ran to the phone. Once you got to it, you didn't knew who you should call - the phone number in the letter, so you could officially accept their offer? Your parents? Your grandma? Your colleagues?

But before you could realize it, you started to dial the your old number - the number for your old house.

You thought about stopping, but what's wrong? This was important. Roger was the one who watched you struggle the most to get to this moment; he knew the price you had to pay for it. He paid it himself, too.

It was only fair that he should be the first to know.

But you kept waiting for him to pick the phone up, and you realized how innocent that was - he moved out, of course he moved out. You knew the band was making more money on their new label - they said it in a few interviews. There was no reason for you to think that he would stay in the same flat he shared with you when you were broke students.

You didn't knew, but if you called a week earlier, he would pick up. Your old flat has been empty for a week when you call, and the neighbourhood's cat rubbed himself against the closed window as the phone ringed - Roger forgot to take the line off, and the real estate agency hasn't visited yet at that point.

It was fine, though. You held your memories of Roger with gratitude on your mind - there was no more space for pain. You missed him, sometimes, but it was in the same way you missed being a child on the wooden roller coaster in Coney Island - happy memories that left you with a smile on your lips.

Like when you were on the plane yesterday, going to London, and since the Museum paid for the tickets, they got you a first class cabin - and you couldn't help but think of you and Roger in their first airplane ride as a band.