At Home In The Clouds

She appeared from around the corner suddenly, grabbing his hand and giving him a sideways smile; one that clearly said she was up to no good. She tugged on his hand and he, still in shock from her sudden and unexpected appearance, stumbled along behind her, not sure where they were going, and certainly not caring. He recognized the hallway vaguely to be his own, complete with the shockingly bright white paint, lined by the various photos of his travels framed in black acrylic, and the dulled hardwood floors scuffed with use.

She noticed his hesitation and tugged sharply, jerking him back to the present. Her nails were painted a deep, shiny red, were cut short and perfectly manicured, like they always were. He assumed her toes matched, though it was impossible to tell.

After what seemed like days of walking, following behind her, she finally stopped at a white door. There were black scuffs at the bottom, obviously from it being kicked open one too many times, but she pushed it open with her free hand effortlessly, despite the fact he knew it was locked tight.

"How did you...?"

She smiled, refusing to show her teeth, and pulled him into the room. She shut the door behind her in time for him to realize the room was his own. They were the same grey walls that had been there since he moved in. His olive green plaid duvet was thrown haphazardly across the bed with one corner pooled on the floor. The dark wood dresser next to his bed had the same pictures he remembered scattered across the top, with one drawer cracked open, and his computer desk was still against the far wall, with his MacBook closed and papers of his messy writing scattered across the top. The light was off, but the room was still bright due to the grey-white light filtering under the half-opened blinds drawn down over the windows.

He was drawn back from examining his room, finding there wasn't a thing out of place, however, when she turned to face him, taking his hands in her own. He looked her over, taking in every detail greedily. Her deep brown hair hung in shiny curls over her shoulders, with her bangs almost covering one eye. She was wearing light wash jeans that flared at the bottom and were torn in the knees, showing a dark red scab that nearly matched her nail polish. She wore a too-big tee shirt that hung off of one shoulder, exposing a bright red bra strap. He smiled slightly, recognizing the black and white baseball raglan to be his own. She was wearing only the bare necessities when it came to make up: just a little eyeliner and mascara and nothing else. It wasn’t like she needed it, anyway; she was gorgeous as-is.

Staring into her dark brown, almost black eyes, he took a slow step closer, and closer, until they were almost nose to nose. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the cherry-almond scent of her shampoo, he leaned in towards her, placing his hands on either side of her thin waist and

Alex woke up quickly, breathing heavily and sitting up so fast he smacked his head on his bunk's low ceiling. Acting on impulse, he swung his bare feet out of the bunk and hopped down, not even bothering to push the curtain back. He stumbled out into the front of the moving bus, hoping someone else was awake. It was empty, save for the driver, though that curtain was drawn, too.

"Alex? What's wrong? It's almost two in the morning, bro." a sleepy looking Jack appeared behind Alex, almost as suddenly as she had.

"Where is she?"

Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands and blinking sleep away, Jack answered, "Who?"

"Where the fuck is she, Jack?" Alex yelled, advancing closer to his bandmate.

"I don't know who the fuck you're talking about! Where's who?" Jack was slowly raising his voice, too.

Rian emerged, obviously woken up by the yelling. "What the hell is going on? It's two in the morning!"

"Jack won't tell me where she is!" Alex ran a hand through his dirty hair, then flung his arm out.

"Alex! Calm the fuck down!" Rian pushed Alex back, making him sit on the small couch. "Who are you talking about?"

"Rowan! Where is she?"

"She's...she's at home, Alex. Like always." Jack furrowed his eyebrows, confused as to why Alex would be asking such a question.

Alex groaned and ran another hand through his hair again and flopped back against the couch, covering his eyes. His head hurt from the hangover he couldn't seem to get rid of, probably because he hadn't stopped drinking in more than a few days. His heart was still racing, and his hands were shaking, too. He stumbled back to his bunk and dug around until he found his phone. Sitting back down on the couch in the lounge, he dialed the number he knew by heart with trembling fingers, praying someone on the other end picked up. It rang and rang, until finally he heard a click. He drew in a sharp breath, waiting to hear the familiar voice he needed to.

"Hey, it's Alex; I'm on tour right now, so call my cell. Bye".

He sighed shakily, dialing another known-by-heart number. It rang over and over for what seemed like hours, and with every second that passed it grew harder and harder for him to breathe. It rang continually, never going to voicemail or cancelling the call. He hung up and tried again, and again, and again, each time with the same result.

"Fuck!" he muttered, setting the phone down beside him. He reached over to the counter beside him and grabbed the laptop sitting there, not even sure it was his. Judging by the fact it looked brand new, without so much as a scratch on it, it wasn't his old dinged up one. Regardless, he cracked open the top and went straight to the yellow pages, having to type everything at least twice because his hands were shaking so badly. At last he found one of the neighbor's phone numbers, and dialed that. He received a sleepy answer, and stated his name, to which they only informed him of the time.

"I’m really sorry it's so late, but have you seen Rowan Soriano lately?"

The man answered with a no, and hung up promptly after that. He called each house on the street that he knew of afterwards, recieveing the same response from everyone, or no answer at all.

In one last, desperate attempt, he called the last neighbor he could think of, praying they would have an answer for him.

After numerous rings, Alex was about to hang up, ready to give up and admit that there was nothing he could do, despite the sinking feeling in his stomach. With his finger only milimeters from the 'end call' button, someone picked up, sounding out of breath.

"Hello?" she gasped, sounding as if she had been rushing around and crying all at once.

Suddenly even more nervous because of her tone of voice, Alex answered slowly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer. "Kailin? What's wrong?"

"I-nothing, Alex. What's up? You, uh," she sniffed, "It's three am, you know that right?"

"Yeah," Alex bit his lip, "D-Do you know where Rowan is? I, uh-"

Kailin drew in a sharp breath. "Oh, Alex-"

"Shit! I knew it! I'm sorry for overreacting and calling you so early, but no one else knew where she was and no one was answering my house phone and I figured since you're her part time roommate you'd know, and-" He ran a hand through his hair, laughing silently at his own stupidity.

"Alex, there's actually something you should know...." she cleared her throat, sounding on the verge of tears. "I um, I went to have a movie night with her, at your house, about an hour ago, and I, uh, I..." she was full on crying, gasping in big gulps of air. "Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry! There was nothing I could do- She was already gone when I got there. I, I called 911, but-"

Alex froze and dropped the phone, in complete shock from the words that just spilled out of Kailin's mouth. He let the words sink in for a moment before he picked up the phone again and stopped Kalin's "I'm so sorry, Alex!" ‘s between gasps for good, clicking the end call button, and just held the phone in his hands, staring at it.

Silent tears slipped down his cheeks, and eventually he fell asleep, curled in a ball on the couch with the phone still clutched in one hand, and a sparkling diamond ring in the other.

Suddenly, he was at the end of his hallway, with his bedroom door shut in front of him. The four framed photos on either wall were still spaced out perfectly, but now stretched on forever, with what seemed like miles between them. Alex stood at his end, staring at the door with bright white light filtering under it, unable to move.

The light under the door grew brighter and reached farther, bleaching the wood floors to a solid white as it reached across. The door swung open slowly, quietly, and a figure emerged, walking just as slowly. She was the same girl from the first dream, only dressed differently. This time, again, her hair hung in curls, shinier than before, with the top few pinned back from her face. As she walked closer Alex could see that her face was made up with eyeliner and mascara, and dark eye shadow with a hint of shimmer. She was wearing a deep red mesh tulle dress, ruched at the top and flowy to her knees. It was cinched in the middle with a matching satin ribbon tied in a bow on her hip, accentuating her slim waistline. Her feet were bare, and he knew for a fact that her toes were polished to match the red of her fingernails, though she wasn’t yet close enough for him to see. She walked quickly, smoothly, almost as if she were floating mere centimetres above the ground.

As she approached, Alex noticed her skin was tan, as if she had been lying in the sun all summer. He knew she loved being tan, and it gave her an almost surreal glow that seemed to radiate out from her insides. Her hair also had a few streaks of a strawberry blonde, another result of the sun in combination with salt water. He was slightly confused by this, as she, last time he saw her, in the very same hallway, with the very same white light, was paler, her hair one colour; a result of the cooling autumn temperatures that forced her to stay inside more often than she’d like.

She came to a stop a yard or two in front of Alex, which was still too far away as far as he was concerned. Her eyes and facial expression looked sad, her lips, painted a deep crimson, pouted out slightly, and her eyes glistened with what he assumed to be not-yet-fallen tears. She only stared at him for a while, seldom blinking, always looking like a combination of being terrified and like she was about to cry.

Suddenly, the walls disappeared from around them, replaced with the endless grey of the sky. The scuffed wood floors became thick, though very dull and muted, green grass, and the bright white light was dimmed considerably. The scene before him looked as if someone had photoshopped it, muting all the colours until everything was nearly grayscale. Rowan parted her lips to speak, and icy cold drops began to fall, landing in perfect crystalline drops on her hair and shoulders.

“I’m not coming back, Alex,” she whispered. Her voice was hoarse and sounded strained, as if she had been screaming at a concert only hour before. “I-I’m sorry, f-for your sake.”

She closed her eyes and the tears fell, and she took a step back from Alex. The rain picked up, now pouring down, soaking her hair and dress, and Alex, too.

He was crying, as silently as her, but his eyes never left her shrinking form. “Why? W-What happened, Rowan? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

With her eyes still closed and salty tears mixing with icy rain on her cheeks, she answered, barely heard above the thundering noise the rain made, “I don’t know, Alex. I really, really don’t. But I, I’m so, so, so, so sorry, and I did it, and it was terrible and it was selfish, but-”

“Why didn’t you say something? I would’ve helped you,” Alex whimpered, sounding as cold and defeated as he looked. He walked, or floated, over to her, closer, until he couldn’t bring himself to get any closer. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, take in the smell of her shampoo, and protect her from the rain, but…he couldn’t. She looked so fragile, so small; like a porcelain doll. He was afraid to touch her, afraid she’d be cold and that she’d shatter in his hands.

“I’m always going to be here, Alex.” The grass was suddenly puffy and dull white, and Alex could feel himself slowly sinking down through it. “This, t-this is home now. You don’t b-belong. Not…not yet. Not for a while.”

Her brown eyes glistened as she stared at what seemed to be a point behind him. He cried and sniffed, and tried to float back up, and get closer and rush towards her, just so he really could hold her one more time, not caring if she would shatter.

“I'll always be watching over you, Alex, I promise.”

The last thing he saw, before he woke suddenly on the couch, feeling as if he was falling, were her teary eyes with tears spilling down her cheeks, and her hand outstretched, reaching out to touch his one last time.