Sunlight

I had just finished changing my shirt; from tank top to drop dead t-shirt that Tom had given me. It had a cute cupcake in front of it; it was probably a new design that's why he gave it to me. I needed someone’s say on how it looked on me because I was going to wear this to the gig tonight and this was a big one, and I wanted to look nothing gorgeous but at least nice and presentable. However the only people in the bus at the moment were Eli, Oli, SJ, Matt N and the bus driver of course.

I would like to ask Eli but she was fast asleep together with Matt and SJ and I didn't want to wake any of them (especially SJ, like as if I have any intention on waking her at all) just for the sake of an opinion about my shirt. So I decided to ask Oli; a risky attempt.

He was at the living room, lounging, only in his boxers and a pair of gray socks covering his feet.

I walked in nonchalantly, as if I didn't plan on it. He noticed me and looked at me for a while; no emotion at all showed in his face. Then he went back at staring at the telly.

“Oli?” I asked. He looked at me from the corner of his eyes, signaling that I had his attention I continued, “I was planning on wearing this shirt for tonight's show. Does it look OK?” I asked him.

He ignored me after that. I guessed he didn't care.

I sighed, “Oh, so you're still giving me the silent treatment. Fine, I'll go and ask someone else.”

I was about to leave the room when he called my name. I turned around, “What?”

“Izz, I think it's proper but you're coming as my girlfriend for Pete’s sake; not my cousin, not my little sister, not just one of my friends but my girlfriend. So at least, dress a little classier, this ain't one of them local gigs, not like them gigs back in Sheffield, hell no. This is a huge concert, I'd like to remind you.” he explained.

Classier? Classier?! I crossed my arms. That was a sort of sign that I wasn't going to fight him back, I wasn't going to voice out my anger right now. I was going to make things work for us, I was determined to win him back again. “Then what do you want me to wear Oli?” I asked him.

He reached for my hands and pulled me closer. When I was close enough, he wrapped his arms around my waist and looked up at me. “Maybe you should try wearing a skirt or a dress.”

I beamed down at him, “I guess I can, I've got a few.” I told him.

He shook his head, “No, no. Not those kinds.” he told me, “SJ has loads of the kind of dresses I'm talking about.” he touched my nose, “Why don't you go and borrow some of hers. I'm sure she'll be willing to lend you some.”

Borrow? The kind of dresses she has? I couldn't help it. I couldn't help but get angry at being compared to Sarah Jane. I pushed myself away from him, “Borrow dresses from SJ? From SJ?” I asked as I emphasized the name SJ as I said this.

“My dresses aren't good enough for you? And God Oli, SJ seems to be the only thing you've been thinking about and been worrying about and SJ seems to be the only thing in your mind other than your music. You want me to wear dresses like SJ's? Which are like dresses of strippers and you probably want me to match them with heels as high as skyscrapers, right? You want me to put more make up, and maybe... I don't know? Get bigger boobs? You probably want me to be more playful, more flirty, more fun. And this all leads to one thing Oli; you want me to be just like SJ. Just like a little carbon copy of her, right? You want that, don't deny it Oli.” I was breaking down at this point. Tears were running down my face like a waterfall.

Oli's mouth hung open. It closed and opened and closed and opened, as if he didn't know what to say. I knew what he was feeling, I could see in his eyes. He wanted to deny it yet he didn't want to lie.

I held my hand up, “Stop!” I told him, “Stop thinking of an answer because I don't want to hear it because I know that what I've said is true.” I wiped my tears and continued, “I'm sorry Oli but I am not SJ, and I will never be like her. I'm so sorry that I'm not good enough for you now and I guess I never will be. I'm sorry for putting you through this whole daft relationship of ours.”

With that I walked out of the living room/kitchen and quickly walked pass Eli, SJ and Matt who awoke when I started screaming at Oli a few minutes ago. After I got through them I locked myself in the bathroom where I cried like a little girl who lost her doll. The doll that she couldn't live without, the doll that she loved the most, the doll she cared for and depended on, the doll she thought she could trust, the doll that she cried for help for when she needed help and protection – now, it was gone. My doll; Oli.

I heard mumbling and a few minutes later I heard someone knock on the door.

“Izzy,” Oli's voice rang through my ears.

I did not answer because at the moment I was cupping my mouth shut because I didn't want the sobs to escape my lips. The sound of Oli's voice made me cry because it made me remember all the things he had whispered or said to me before; both the hurtful and lovely things he's said.

He knocked once more, “Izzy, please answer me. We need to talk, I've got some things to say too.”

I didn't answer again. This time I heard SJ's voice somewhere in the background, “Oli, Matt Kean said you should go get dress and go there for practice and sound check.”

“Tell him I'll go after I take care of this, ok?” he said irritated and pissed off.

“Alrighty,” said SJ cheerily and then I heard her heels click and clack on the cherry wood floor.

As the sound fade and before Oli could call out my name again I spoke. “Oli?”

“Oh thank heavens you answered. I thought you passed out there or something, I was going to bust in,” he said relieved, “Open the door now Izz, we need to talk about some stuff.”

“Doesn't matter,” I told him, “You better go and do sound check.”

He sighed out of exhaustion and frustration, “Izzy, I'm not leaving until we've panned all this out.”

I didn't want to be the reason why Oli didn't get to do sound check making his voice unprepared later and making the show stink, so I gave him what he wanted to hear, “Fine. We'll talk tomorrow, OK? But now, you gotta go there and do sound check and prepare.”

“We'll talk later, after the show.” he said firmly, “Will you be watching?”

“Alright, we'll talk after your show and no, I don't think I'm in the right state to go to one of your shows,” I said as tears still flowed down my face.

“If that's what you want, fine.”

I heard steps then silence. There was nothing but silence. SILENCE IS A SCARY SOUND.