Sing For Me

Chapter Eight: Your Love Is...

Barely a few moments after Abbey locks herself in the bathroom, a message on the projector screens sponsored by some kind of brand of diet soda informs everyone that they should be seated for the second half.

I take my seat and wait for Abbey to show up, or for the singing to start... I wait for anything to happen in hopes that it might pull me away from myself, and that ominous feeling of being eaten from the inside out.

It's all Tim's fault.

Urgh! Why am I so affected by him? It's not like I usually fall for that shining white knight bullshit... what's changed with me?

I wriggle my toes in my shoes and dig my thumbnail in under the nail of my middle finger, hoping the sensation there will distract me from my own crazy thought spirals. It seems like an eternity passes in the darkness before the lights on stage come up, but then the five figures are again standing front and center, and their presence gives me something bigger than myself to focus on. I stare at Tim, or Eric, or whatever his name is. He's changed his costume since the first half along with the rest of the group, and now they are all wearing full evening suits, ready for their performances of the hot seat serenade.

The tension is building.

Abbey still isn't back when the first song starts, and her empty chair flashes up onto the massive, stage-wide screen behind the singers along with the other four hot seaters. I'm up there, too, and while the cameras are on, I do my best to look like I'm enjoying myself. Although seeing myself at three times my actual size makes me feel weird, and with my forced smile, I end up looking more like a constipated goat than a Babbler riding the highest peaks of fangirlism.

Seconds after Abbey's vacant seat lights up the projector, Red storms into the room.

"Where the fuck is the hot seat girl?!" She slams the door to our box behind her. I don't want to turn around in case her rage suddenly switches in my trajectory, so I stay in my seat and keep my eyes directed firmly forward. Although, I have to admit that Red has asked a good question. I hear the attendant girl reply with something about the bathroom, and Red knock loudly on the door. My palms start to feel all hot and sweaty.

"Abbey, honey? The serenade is about to start and you're not in your seat. You signed a contract, remember, Hun?" Red tries her best to sound sympathetic in a mothering way, except on Red it just comes across as cold and threatening and somewhat manipulative.

My stomach bottoms out as I think about the intermission, about Abbey turning green.

Abbey never turns green. Pale, yes. But green?

It's only then, when I really think about it, that I realize that something is seriously wrong. Not only because of Abbey's pallor when she'd fled into the bathroom but because Abbey would never miss a single Babel song.

Never.

My pulse quickens. The signs have all been there—right in front of me, and while I noticed them, I have been too distracted by Tim and my own damned problems to show any proper concern for my best friend.

I jump out of my seat so quickly it's like the damned thing has burned me. Red is still knocking on the toilet door, but in the corner of the room, arms folded across her chest, the corporate box attendant girl looks less than surprised, and a lot less concerned.

I think about the cocktail Abs drank. The food she'd been handed.

The attendant looks at her nails, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a smug smile, and I round on the bitch so fast I make her head spin.

I see the split second of panic in her face as I come for her, the split second that all but confirms what she's done. And I'm so wild I can hardly see straight.

Nobody messes with my friends.

"What the fuck have you done?"

~~~ A/N ~~~

Thank you for reading!

The pre-Hot Seat levels of crazy are high in this one! What do you think is going to happen next?!

Remember to leave a vote if you liked this story! :)

Have a terrific day!

Emxx

~~~ <3 ~~~