This Is the World We Left for Dreamers and Believers

My feet were propped up on the merch table beside Tim, Oli Sykes beautiful face blocking my view from the outside world. Someone cleared their throat in front of me.

“Bella, you’re probably going to want to look.” I sighed and dropped the magazine. Halvo stood in front of me. I picked the magazine back up.

“Wrong.” Ever since I’d gotten back I had avoided him at all costs.

“Annabelle! We need to talk.” He pleaded.

“Don’t make a fool of yourself. You have fans to talk to.”

“No. We’re going to talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about. What happened, happened and now its over.” I said continuing to read the article. His hand slammed down on the table making Tim and I both jump.

“We are going to talk right now.” He growled.

“Yo. Broski, you need to calm down.”

“I don’t understand you!”

“She’s a chick! No one understands them.” Tim said. I smacked his leg and picked up the magazine. Eric ripped it out of my hand. I jumped up glaring at him.

“Give it back, Eric!”

“Talk to me then.” He said holding it above his head.

“Why? I don’t want you anymore! It’s really not something that needs discussing.” I said looking around to make sure there were no fans around to hear.

“What changed?” He asked quietly dropping the magazine. Oli Sykes face stared up at me.

“Nothing. Everything. It’s nothing personal, Eric. I just can’t do the relationship thing, okay?”

“Is it because I told him?” Eric finally asked after a long silence that was filled with a acoustic version of “Into Your Arms”.

“It has nothing to do with that…..Although….that didn’t help. He had no right to know.”

“So, its just a fight? We can get through this!” I groaned, frustrated and waved to Tim. I slammed through the door, Eric still on my heels begging for me to listen. A homeless man was sitting just outside the venue, he had formed a makeshift drum out of a bucket and signed Bob Marley drum sticks; probably his last, personal possesion. I slid down to one knee and turned on the camera. He smiled and posed; one drum stick held above his head at an angle, the other sat on the edge of the bucket. Eric stopped spaces behind me, now silent. I viewed the picture and smiled appreciatively and stood up. Eric pulled out $5 and dropped into the cup. I pulled out a ten and dropped it into the cup. He had two choices; food or alcohol/drugs. Either was fine with me. It wasn’t my life he was destroying. We continued walking; both still silent.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry.” I said turning to him on a dark street.

“I thought we were good.”

“We were.”

“What did I do?” I sighed. He wrapped his arms around me. I leaned my head on chest.

“You did everything right. You’re perfect. Halvo. I just can’t do this. I’ve got problems, baby. You don’t want this.” He kissed the top of my head.

“I do. I’m willing to deal.”

“God. You’re too fucking sweet for your own good. You’ll always be my best friend. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t believe it.” He laughed quietly.

“Well at least there’s that.”

“I don’t want anything to change between us.” I said quietly not meeting his eyes.

“We’ll be closer if anything. This isn’t a bad thing. Sure, I’ll be upset for a little while but can you blame me?” I shook my head.

“Dude, you’re going to make me cry! Stop taking this so well!” I said pulling away.

“I have to wear the pants right now! Shush!” He said playfully putting his hand over my mouth. I licked his hand. He shook his head and threw an arm around my shoulders.

“Hey, Halvo?”

“Hmm?”

“Piggyback?” He stared down at me for a second and then shook his head.

“Everyone’s going to get so confused! Here.” He crouched down. I clung to his neck and wrapped my legs around his slim waist and buried my face in his neck.

“I don’t care what everyone else thinks. We’re too cool for speculation.” He laughed and walked us back to the venue. Tim watched us walk inside, he shook his head and smirked. I shrugged and leaned my head back down on his shoulder where I fell asleep.