Hemorrhage.

I wasn’t the type of person that just didn’t go to something.

I never skipped school. If someone asked me to go somewhere, I hardly ever declined. I would feel bad if I didn’t go, like I had intentionally hurt them. I also didn’t like the possibilities of something going on when I wasn’t there - when I was a teenager, I was a paranoid person. I always felt like my friends were talking behind me back.

So it was a weird decision for me to make when I decided not to go. I just wasn’t going to make it. With a shrug of my shoulders, I turned away from the building. It wasn’t like it really mattered that much anyway. It was just one night. It couldn’t really change much.

Dr. Meyers was going to be pissed when she realized that I wasn’t going to show.

I stood in the back of the venue nervously. The small space was packed, which somehow surprised me. I knew that the band was getting big, but I guess I didn’t really know the extent of their popularity. There were girls packed together tightly, with a few guys sprinkled around.

I clutched my tote bag tighter to my body, my fingers wrapping around the slick material. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, distributing my weight. It was 5:20, so A Rocket To The Moon should be coming on soon. Techies were still scurrying across the stage, taping down loose wires and set lists. One techie even dumbly tapped his fingertips against the microphone to see if the reception was working.

I rolled my eyes. One thing that John had taught me - never tap a microphone. It fucks it up.

I stood in the back of the venue, not really having the energy to push my way through to the barrier. I had seen the guys dozens of times - rehearsing in basements, playing at house parties. One show at a cramped-as-fuck venue wasn’t really that big of a deal. I guess.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, wanting the comfort of having it in my hand. I guess I felt more secure with my phone in my hand. I don’t really know why.

It was another one of those stupid things that I just did. (Like starving myself and purging.)

Five minutes had passed without me really realizing it, and then my phone was vibrating in my hand. It was a call, which was unusual, because these days I was only getting text messages.

“Hello?” I spoke into the phone, pressing it up to my ear with my right hand.

“Hey,” a smooth voice responded back. “Are you here?”

I nodded, even though I knew that they couldn’t see me. “Yeah. I’m in the back.”

“Okay. Stay right there, I’ll come find you.”

“You’re going to be on in a couple of minutes!” I protested.

“Technical difficulties and some shit. Just don’t worry, love. I’ll be there in three.”

Dial tone.

I rolled my eyes before pressing the end button. He always had a way with making conversation short. But blunt and to the point, I guess.

I waited impatiently in the back of the venue, not understanding how he could find me. I was of medium height, just like everyone else here. I had platinum blonde hair, just like everyone else here. I was wearing skinny jeans and a tote bag, just like everyone else here. I did not stand out in the slightest.

I jumped when a pair of arms snaked around my waist, pulling my back flush against a torso. “Hey, sexy, what’re you doing tonight?”

The imitation suave voice in my ear made my roll my eyes.

For a second, I pulled away from all the negative body comments I could find in that sentence, and tried to make myself relax. I wanted to enjoy myself, if only for the night.

“Not you.” I shrugged in response, and I heard a scoff behind me.

“Please, baby. You’ll be begging for a piece of this by the end of the night.”

“Mhm.” I sarcastically agreed. “Definitely. I’ll be on my knees, groveling.”

“Well, I don’t know about groveling, but you’ll definitely be on your knees.”

I rolled my eyes, before elbowing him in his side. He winced slightly, but still kept his arms wrapped tightly around me. He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck. It made me shiver involuntarily, but I wasn’t exactly sure if it was because he was the one doing it, or because I just hadn’t had physical contact in so long.

There was a truthful answer and an honest answer.

“Shouldn’t you be backstage, getting ready?” I asked him, breaking the awkward silence that had settled over us for a few seconds. His lips were poised on my neck, where he was leaving soft butterfly kisses every few seconds.

I turned my face to look at him. He had a black beanie covering his mess of hair and an American Apparel hoodie covering his arms. A pair of Ray Bans were tucked into his v-neck, and a pair of Vans were on his feet. He was such a typical band boy.

He shrugged. “There’s some bad wiring, so they have to fix that first.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping with that?”

Again, another shrug. “That’s what they pay roadies for. I’m just supposed to stand on the stage and look pretty.”

He fluttered his eyelashes at me. I rolled my eyes. Again.

“Well, I don’t know about the whole looking pretty part…” I trailed off playfully, giggling slightly at my words, because I knew he would take offense to that.

He thought he was damn attractive.

Which he was, of course, but I couldn’t let him know that. His ego didn’t need to be inflated further.

His mouth dropped open in mock shock. “How rude!” He protested. “Like you’re one to talk!”

One slip up. That’s all it ever took, you know.

With my state of mind, that’s all it ever took. Just a couple of words, arranged in such a way that I took offense.

I tore myself away from Nick harshly, my breath catching in my throat. It was worse, because even though I knew that I was being overdramatic, I couldn’t stop myself. Even though I knew that he didn’t mean it like that at all, I had to tear myself away.

I couldn’t get that close to anyone.

They would be able to realize. Realize what was truly going on in my head.

Nick looked shocked, as did the people around me that had been staring. I knew they recognized Nick (with hair like that, he was hard to miss) but I was pretty sure they were all wondering who I was. I didn’t want them to know who I was.

I wanted to be mysterious. Invisible.

“Emelie,” Nick called after me as I started to walk away, towards the exit of the venue.

How could I have thought that I could handle this? I couldn’t handle this. I couldn’t handle anything.

“Emelie, wait!” His voice echoed off the walls, and the louder he got the more people started looking at us. “Emelie, just calm down. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I was joking!”

I just shake my head, willing to pick my feet up faster. I was outside and swinging the door behind me.

Nick was still calling out my name, but the calls were quieter now. I guessed he had either given up on chasing me or he had to be on the stage sometime soon.

My phone vibrated in my hand, and I looked at the clear screen briefly.

It was a text message, but it wasn’t from an unknown sender. John’s name flashed up at me.

Did you make it?

I stared at the screen for a few seconds, still moving towards the parking lot where my mother’s Honda was parked. I needed to get out of here. I needed to go home.

I kept the phone in my hand as I pulled out my keys and unlocked the passenger side door. I kept the phone in my hand as I slide into the smooth seats and slammed the door behind me. I kept the phone perfectly poised in my hand as I slid the key into the ignition, even though I didn’t turn it and roar the car to life. I kept the phone in my hand as I leaned back against the seat, my head falling on the rest. I stared out the windshield, into the light sky before me. It wasn’t even six o’clock yet. The sun was still setting high in the sky.

I was trying to work back the nerve to answer him.

I knew what I wanted to say - No. I wanted to leave without him ever even knowing that I had stepped foot in the venue. Except Nick would probably tell him, and then that would be screwed and all progress would become moot.

So maybe I had to do what I didn’t want to. Maybe I had to let John in.

My fingers were moving over the screen before I had a chance to think things through. I didn’t want to chicken out.

Yeah. I’m in my mom’s car. Come talk to me?

I didn’t even have to wait a minute before my phone was vibrating again.

I’ll be there in less than five. <3

And

You’re a filthy liar.

Because these nights just like to get better and better.

John was there under five minutes. He opened the door quickly, ducking into the car and slamming the door behind him. His hood was on his head and his Ray Bans were perched on his face. He looked like he was trying to be incognito, but it wasn’t really working out for him. People could spot John’s legs from a few hundred feet away.

“Hey,” he breathed heavily, pressing his palms into his knees. He seemed out of breath.

“Hi.”

“I had to run away from a crowd or two,” he explained, the words coming out in short, erratic breaths. I had to refrain from giggling at how funny he sounded.

“Oh. Sorry.”

He shook his head, taking off his sunglasses and pushing down his hood simultaneously. His hair was a perfect mess. “Don’t worry. It was worth it.”

He sent me one of those infamous John O’ crooked smiles and my heart might have melted. If I hadn’t been so keyed up, of course.

“So what’s wrong?” He asked suddenly, his breathing now even. He leaned back into the seat. “Why won’t you come inside?”

I turned and kept my gaze locked on the windsheild. I blinked a few times. I tried to keep myself from giving in and telling him. I wanted to, though, and that sucked.

“I got into a fight with Nick.” I blurted out suddenly, and almost immediately I wanted to slap myself in the face. Why couldn’t I just shut the fuck up?

“You did?’ John looked surprised. “Why?”

I shrugged, even though I knew the reason. “He said something mean. I guess…I guess I over reacted, but it still hurt me.”

John didn’t even hesitate, which was weird for me. Normally, the John I knew hesitated before he did something big, like touched me. He was a shy boy. Which, in a way I guess he still was now, but maybe he thought we were friends. Maybe we were familiar.

I didn’t really know.

He leaned over and he pulled me from my seat, over the console, and into his lap. The shock on my face must have been evident, because he chuckled.

Even though I was in shock, I didn’t stop from burying my face into his t-shirted chest. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. He cooed things I didn’t really understand in my ear and he rubbed my back.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay.” He whispered.

John had never called me baby.

“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.”

I had never told John that something was directly wrong with me.

“Everything will work you. Nothing is wrong with you.”

He knew. That’s when I knew that he knew.

John O’Callaghan knew that something was wrong with me.

I figured that out just as my phone beeped with a new text. It was still in my hand, and I wiped away a few stray tears as I opened the folder.

One word. Sometimes one word hurts more than ten.

Whore.

But it was worse, because the sender wasn’t from an unknown number.