Wish You Were Here

“Hello,” Brandon replied.

“Having a good time?” She asked tilting her head towards the venue.

He chuckled, “Not my type of thing.”

“Ah.”

“And you? Are you having fun?”

She smiled, “Yes, it’s fun to watch the drunk bimbos stumble out.”

“The drunk bimbos?”

“Look!” She said pointing at the backdoor which he had exited from and watched as one of the giggling girls walked out with her friend and stumbled her way up the stairs.

“They’ve been doing that all night?”

“All night,” she said putting out her cigarette, “ God I am thirsty,” She mumbled.

He looked back at her and smiled, “I’ll be back.” Brandon walked back into the dressing room and snaked between the heated bodies to the makeshift bar in the back, he wrapped his hand around the neck of a bottle of southern comfort and made his way back to the back door.

“Brandon Boyd!” a voice squealed behind him.

“Yes?” he asked turning around.

“Oh it is you!…won’t you come keep me company?” the squeaky redhead asked sliding her arm around his.

“Not tonight doll, I got someone waiting for me,” with that Brandon pulled away from the redhead and onto the cool night. He spotted Karen leaning against the street posts gray spine staring into its yellow face. He walked towards her slowly, the words of the redhead still running through his head, but now through a different voice, not so high pitched and annoying, but soft and light ; he heard her words through Luna’s voice, “Won’t you come keep me company?”. The memory tugged on his heart and made him stop for a moment in his tracks. He gazed back at Karen and saw her as Luna for a moment. He missed her…

“What’s wrong?” Karen asked from her stand.

“Oh…nothing,” Brandon lied walking towards her, “Here.” He handed her the cold bottle of Southern Comfort.

“They have this in there?”

“Mhm, if you know where to look.”

She twisted the cap off and brought the bottle to her lips, “Mmm…. Delicious.”

He laughed at her response.

“Here,” she said laughing with him and handing him the bottle. Brandon took a swig of the bottle and let the hot liquid burn his throat and gave it back to Karen. Back and forth they passed the bottle until it was empty and Karen had to sit down. “ I think I took too much,” she laughed resting her head on Brandon’s shoulder.

“Non-sense,” Brandon replied placing the bottle beside him and tapping her face lightly with his finger tips.

“Now, I am the drunk bimbo,” she slurred laughing.

“That makes two of us.”

She laughed lifting her head and hit him playfully in the knee. Brandon smiled at her sheepishly and felt the first drops of rain on his face.

“It’s raining,” he said looking up.

“We’re gonna get all wet!”

“No we’re not, follow me.”

Taking her hand in his, he led her to the van and into the dry interior.

“See we didn’t get wet,” he said sliding the door behind him. He closed his eyes and listened to the increasing rain outside. He felt Karen move beside him and lay her arm across his torso. He looked at her face so close to his. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol running through his veins or the growing loneliness in his heart but Brandon kissed her, kissed her as if it was Luna he had not Karen. He maneuvered his hands around her body and let her lie across the seat. He kissed her again, his eyes fooling him and making him believe it was Luna. He held her close to him, his hands tracing her curves on her body through the thin material of her clothes. She moved her long hands from the slides of his face to the back of his neck, weaving her fingers into his hair. His mind reeled at the strokes of her hands on his head. He opened his eyes expecting Luna’s soft face but found Karen’s instead. His eyes widened and he pulled abruptly from her warm embrace.

“What’s wrong?” Karen asked sitting up.

“I am sorry,” Brandon breathed, “ I have to go.”

“Wait, why?” Karen asked but Brandon had already gone out into the pouring rain. Brandon welcomed the cold droplets on his warm skin, he let them soak his shirt and wash away his inebriation. He sat on the edge of the sidewalk and covered his face with his hands. He was so lonely, he body craved affection and welcomed any contact but his heart only wanted Luna. Luna who possibly hated him, who possibly wanted him dead. He peered through his clammy hands and saw the metallic body of a pay phone in the distance. He walked towards it and began to feverishly gather the 75 cents needed to call from his pockets. He dialed the ten digits his fingertips knew so well and waited…

“Hello?” the voice asked. He noticed it was slightly hoarse. She had been crying… “Hello?” she asked again. Brandon’s tongue held the words he wanted to spew out but his mouth was closed shut.

“Oh screw this!” Luna mumbled.

“Wait,” he managed to breathe.

“Who is this?”

Brandon stayed quiet , he wanted to say so much that he couldn’t find what to say first.

“Brandon,” she suddenly said, “If it is you…”

Brandon remained quiet waiting for her next words.

“If this is you…I want you to know that I hate you. I want you to know that you are dead to me. Dead do you hear me? I never want to see you again. NEVER!” she cried, her voice rising and breaking. Brandon’s tongue became glued to the roof of his mouth and felt his heart break from within. Her dry laugh reached his ears, “What am I doing?” she murmured, “ ‘if this is Brandon’ of course it isn’t,”

He heard the click of her phone hanging up and let his receiver slip away from his grasp. He stayed there gripping the edges of the metallic body cover the phone ‘til his knuckles turned white. The pounding rain muted every thing around him, but could not silence her words bouncing off the walls of his mind, “ YOU ARE DEAD TO ME.”