Harbour Lights
and walks like rain
Tonight was the beginning of everything.
It was the beginning of a new era in Will's hometown. At least, for him it was. He could finally show everyone that his guitar was taking him places. He could finally be viewed in a different light. He could finally stop being considered the failure of the Banfield family, the one that never went to college, the one that never left home.
And maybe he could finally start liking Ogunquit a little more. Maybe he could finally start liking people a little more.
Will used to be a fun person. He used to laugh and do wild things and actually live life. But after Marilyn left, that fiery light inside him began to fade and eventually flickered out. Sure, he was still wild, and sure, he had fun…but it was in different ways now. Ways that most people wouldn't approve of.
"Make yourself useful before I kick your ass for standing around," Adam said, coming up to Will and punching him in the arm. "Help me with the lights, will ya?"
"All right, man, all right," Will sighed. This was the problem with having your own concert: you had to set everything up.
The only thing that was getting him through this was the promise of being able to play in front of a crowd that he actually knew, instead of just a bunch of screaming strangers. He was really excited for tonight.
◊ ◊ ◊
She was really dreading tonight.
Marilyn's conscious was screaming at her, telling to stay at home and avoid crowds at all costs. Additional negative attention was not what she needed right now. And she knew that people were worse when they were surrounded by their friends; in groups, people felt more confident, which meant that they wouldn’t be afraid to insult Marilyn to her face.
Most people hadn’t actually confronted her about anything. She was glared at a lot, yes, but no words were spoken to her personally. The majority of the gossip and bashing took place behind her back, since most people whispered about her when she wasn't around; people were braver and said worse things when they weren't within punching distance.
And yet, against all logical reasoning, Marilyn found herself pulling on a pair shorts and a floral-patterned tank top. It was the beginning of June and it was surprisingly warm out, so she wanted to enjoy it. That was her excuse, at least. In reality she was always one for dressing down and she was a complete fashion disaster. She despised skinny jeans with a passion and could never understand why people wore belts over their shirts. Paris taught her nothing about dressing well, sadly to say. She knew she wouldn't fit in at the concert, which would be full of slutty-dressed teenage girls, but then again she would never be accepted no matter what she chose to wear.
But she didn’t care. She liked dressing casually and her clothes never made her stand out, which she liked. She used to prefer standing out because of her personality, not the outfit she was wearing…and now she just preferred not to stand out at all. And although she may have drastically changed over the past two years, her choice of attire didn't.
When she arrived at the place where the concert was being held, she knew she was being stared at. She chose to ignore it. Marilyn wasn't the type to confront people about things; it was pretty clear that she either ignored things or ran away from them.
Most of the people here were in high school, though a few adults were there as well. And "adults" meant people who were about twenty, around Marilyn's age. She referred to them as adults because legally, that's exactly what they were. But if she had to judge them by the way they were whispering, she would say they hadn't changed since freshman year. They all had a lot of growing up to do.
Marilyn didn't mean this in a bitter way, though, because she felt the same way about herself. She felt closer to twelve than she did to twenty most of the time. On the inside, she still wished she could be a child and go back to the time when everything was so simple, when best friends could be made in five minutes and boys were still icky. But she wasn't a kid anymore – if she was, then she would be crying a lot more often. Lately she felt like she needed to do a lot of crying, but…that's not something that big girls do.
After looking around, however, she managed to somehow feel relaxed. It must have been because of the scenery around her. The small stadium had been set up along the beach, and amongst the sounds of the chattering people the sound of crashing waves could be heard. The sand felt cool and soft under her feet and the breeze gushing in from the sea was unusually warm. Summer was the best season to be in Ogunquit.
Finally, the lights on the stage burst to life. As soon as the band came on, the crowd went wild, and the deafening sound of their screams was quite a feat considering how few people were actually there.
They wasted no time and within seconds, the first song began to play.
“And where were you when we missed you most? You ran away and became a hometown ghost. I miss you, baby, and I need you back. I just wish I had the guts to tell you that…”
Marilyn almost left right then and there, but something stopped her. The lights suddenly focused in on the band and the spotlight had shifted onto Will – the sight of him playing his guitar was enough to keep her from leaving. His bass was the world to him because it was one of the few things he was good at, and when he played it just seemed to come so naturally. It was like watching someone breathe or walk; only this was much, much more beautiful. Marilyn remembered the days when she would sit in Adam's garage with the rest of the gang to watch the band practice. And she remembered sitting in Will's room, on his bed, as he played a song that he wrote for her.
But that was a long time ago.
Then the final chorus began: “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll poke a needle in your eye…” The song ended sooner than expected and then the lights shifted from the band and to the crowd. Marilyn could feel the spotlight on her, but it passed over her within a second. In that fleeting second, though, something on Will's face changed. Marilyn watched as his grin faded slowly and was replaced by something similar to a snarl. His eyes met with hers and everything froze.
And then, suddenly, he came back to life, even more rambunctious than ever. Marilyn didn’t know what he was planning on doing, but the sickening feeling in her stomach told her that it wasn’t going to be very kind. With a newfound energy Will practically pushed Adam away from the mike and screamed into it, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight!" His greeting was met by more cheers and yells. Judging by the fact that most of the screams sounded feminine, Will seemed to be the favorite amongst the high school girls.
"That song's dedicated to anyone's who has ever been left behind," he shouted. "Let's here it for them. For the ones who stayed!" He tilted the mike towards the crowd and everyone erupted into screams on cue, despite the fact that no one had any idea what he was actually talking about.
Not once did Will's eyes leave Marilyn's. He brought the mike back up to his lips: "Here's to the bitch that ran away."
Will had had no idea that Marilyn was in town, and she was hoping that she could avoid him at all costs. But what happened tonight ruined that.
Tonight was the end of everything.
It was the beginning of a new era in Will's hometown. At least, for him it was. He could finally show everyone that his guitar was taking him places. He could finally be viewed in a different light. He could finally stop being considered the failure of the Banfield family, the one that never went to college, the one that never left home.
And maybe he could finally start liking Ogunquit a little more. Maybe he could finally start liking people a little more.
Will used to be a fun person. He used to laugh and do wild things and actually live life. But after Marilyn left, that fiery light inside him began to fade and eventually flickered out. Sure, he was still wild, and sure, he had fun…but it was in different ways now. Ways that most people wouldn't approve of.
"Make yourself useful before I kick your ass for standing around," Adam said, coming up to Will and punching him in the arm. "Help me with the lights, will ya?"
"All right, man, all right," Will sighed. This was the problem with having your own concert: you had to set everything up.
The only thing that was getting him through this was the promise of being able to play in front of a crowd that he actually knew, instead of just a bunch of screaming strangers. He was really excited for tonight.
◊ ◊ ◊
She was really dreading tonight.
Marilyn's conscious was screaming at her, telling to stay at home and avoid crowds at all costs. Additional negative attention was not what she needed right now. And she knew that people were worse when they were surrounded by their friends; in groups, people felt more confident, which meant that they wouldn’t be afraid to insult Marilyn to her face.
Most people hadn’t actually confronted her about anything. She was glared at a lot, yes, but no words were spoken to her personally. The majority of the gossip and bashing took place behind her back, since most people whispered about her when she wasn't around; people were braver and said worse things when they weren't within punching distance.
And yet, against all logical reasoning, Marilyn found herself pulling on a pair shorts and a floral-patterned tank top. It was the beginning of June and it was surprisingly warm out, so she wanted to enjoy it. That was her excuse, at least. In reality she was always one for dressing down and she was a complete fashion disaster. She despised skinny jeans with a passion and could never understand why people wore belts over their shirts. Paris taught her nothing about dressing well, sadly to say. She knew she wouldn't fit in at the concert, which would be full of slutty-dressed teenage girls, but then again she would never be accepted no matter what she chose to wear.
But she didn’t care. She liked dressing casually and her clothes never made her stand out, which she liked. She used to prefer standing out because of her personality, not the outfit she was wearing…and now she just preferred not to stand out at all. And although she may have drastically changed over the past two years, her choice of attire didn't.
When she arrived at the place where the concert was being held, she knew she was being stared at. She chose to ignore it. Marilyn wasn't the type to confront people about things; it was pretty clear that she either ignored things or ran away from them.
Most of the people here were in high school, though a few adults were there as well. And "adults" meant people who were about twenty, around Marilyn's age. She referred to them as adults because legally, that's exactly what they were. But if she had to judge them by the way they were whispering, she would say they hadn't changed since freshman year. They all had a lot of growing up to do.
Marilyn didn't mean this in a bitter way, though, because she felt the same way about herself. She felt closer to twelve than she did to twenty most of the time. On the inside, she still wished she could be a child and go back to the time when everything was so simple, when best friends could be made in five minutes and boys were still icky. But she wasn't a kid anymore – if she was, then she would be crying a lot more often. Lately she felt like she needed to do a lot of crying, but…that's not something that big girls do.
After looking around, however, she managed to somehow feel relaxed. It must have been because of the scenery around her. The small stadium had been set up along the beach, and amongst the sounds of the chattering people the sound of crashing waves could be heard. The sand felt cool and soft under her feet and the breeze gushing in from the sea was unusually warm. Summer was the best season to be in Ogunquit.
Finally, the lights on the stage burst to life. As soon as the band came on, the crowd went wild, and the deafening sound of their screams was quite a feat considering how few people were actually there.
They wasted no time and within seconds, the first song began to play.
“And where were you when we missed you most? You ran away and became a hometown ghost. I miss you, baby, and I need you back. I just wish I had the guts to tell you that…”
Marilyn almost left right then and there, but something stopped her. The lights suddenly focused in on the band and the spotlight had shifted onto Will – the sight of him playing his guitar was enough to keep her from leaving. His bass was the world to him because it was one of the few things he was good at, and when he played it just seemed to come so naturally. It was like watching someone breathe or walk; only this was much, much more beautiful. Marilyn remembered the days when she would sit in Adam's garage with the rest of the gang to watch the band practice. And she remembered sitting in Will's room, on his bed, as he played a song that he wrote for her.
But that was a long time ago.
Then the final chorus began: “Cross my heart and hope to die, I’ll poke a needle in your eye…” The song ended sooner than expected and then the lights shifted from the band and to the crowd. Marilyn could feel the spotlight on her, but it passed over her within a second. In that fleeting second, though, something on Will's face changed. Marilyn watched as his grin faded slowly and was replaced by something similar to a snarl. His eyes met with hers and everything froze.
And then, suddenly, he came back to life, even more rambunctious than ever. Marilyn didn’t know what he was planning on doing, but the sickening feeling in her stomach told her that it wasn’t going to be very kind. With a newfound energy Will practically pushed Adam away from the mike and screamed into it, "Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming tonight!" His greeting was met by more cheers and yells. Judging by the fact that most of the screams sounded feminine, Will seemed to be the favorite amongst the high school girls.
"That song's dedicated to anyone's who has ever been left behind," he shouted. "Let's here it for them. For the ones who stayed!" He tilted the mike towards the crowd and everyone erupted into screams on cue, despite the fact that no one had any idea what he was actually talking about.
Not once did Will's eyes leave Marilyn's. He brought the mike back up to his lips: "Here's to the bitch that ran away."
Will had had no idea that Marilyn was in town, and she was hoping that she could avoid him at all costs. But what happened tonight ruined that.
Tonight was the end of everything.