1,000 Stars are Passing By

Dalton,

I'm so sorry that I wasn't here when you woke up. I just needed out quicker. I left this note to say goodbye for the final time. I hope it's everything you wanted to hear.

It's also to tell you some things that couldn't be said out loud. It's hard for me to even write this, so please, don't take this lightly.

Mr. Tomas was not the person we all thought he was. He was kind and gentle. He had a happy grin on most of the time, and he always gave only constructive criticism. He never put anyone down, and encouraged everyone.

We thought he was this person. He's crude. His touch is like acid. He's rough and has an evil side to him. His devilish grin plastered on his face the whole time was terrifying. He used the worst names. Slut, whore. He tore people down like no one else.

Specifically, me. He touched me and made me feel dirty. I hate him. He's not Mr. Tomas anymore. He's the Devil.

My mom hasn't been home since we got back from tour. She could be dead, for all I know. For all I care. I know, I should forgive her, blah, blah, blah. I can't.

Dalton. Please, forget about me. I won't come back, so don't worry about me all the time like I know you would. Get to know Stephan a lot better, he'll be good for you. If nothing else, he'll make you happy. He may even replace me in your thoughts and memories. He's in a special place already, but maybe all of those memories you'll make with him with overflow and push those of me away.

I can only hope so. If remembering me will cause you pain, don't remember. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. This is better for you, trust me. Your life will be better without me in it.

Dalton,

I love you. I can't stop. I hope this doesn't sound too much like a lover's note, but it's true. I need to say goodbye to forget about my life.

It's not that I don't love you guys, I do. So much. It's that I can't go anywhere in that town without being reminded of something or someone. It's not good for my sanity.

Love is watching someone die.

Tell Riley that it's not that I don't love her. It's that she's not going to die.

Tell RJ that I love him and give him my keyboard. He can take my place in the band.

Tell Calvin that I always saw him as an annoying older brother. In a good way. I love him to death.

Tell Ross that I'm sorry I was always such a brat. That I always wished he was my father.

Tell Holland that she had better be rid of her habit by the time I come back.

Not that I'm coming back. But, don't tell them this. I want Holland to have a reason to get better. Not that she would really mind if I never came back, but whatever. Maybe she'll forget about me with time.

You guys can have anything you want of my stuff. Or just throw it away. That would be better, actually.

You'll all eventually forget about me. Just give it time, I'll be in your thoughts less and less. When you do think about me, it won't hurt as bad. When you're all old and are bad at remembering anyway, I'll be the farthest thing from your mind.

I'm changing my identity. I won't be anywhere where you could find me. I won't look the same, either. I'll do my best to hide from you. Until you give up. I'll probably be dead by the end of the year, anyway.

Dalton, I love you. You were right, there was nothing you could do to stop me.

Goodbye.

Elina

Dalton's

Tears stain the paper I hold in my shaking hand, mixing in with the stains already left by the writer. She's gone.

Gone.

“Elina,” I sob, “How could we forget you?”

I am a heap on my bed, until Ross wakes up and takes me in his arms.

“Ross,” I sob.

He shushes me. I need to calm down before I can tell him what happened. He doesn't see what's written on the note, I dropped it to the floor a while ago.

She's gone. I'm still trying to process this. She's not coming back. At least she thinks so.

I will get her back no matter what it takes.

X

Ross calls for an emergency meeting once I calm down enough to tell him about Elina. My eyes are puffy and red and I just need to sleep this all away.

It's just a bad dream. I know this. It didn't really happen.

“Elina's gone,” Ross announces to the room.

A familiar tug on my heart tells me that I'm not dreaming. Pain like this doesn't happen in dreams.

“Gone?” Calvin asks.

“She ran away,” I croak.

Once again, the tears flow. I should have done something. Anything. But I didn't. I don't know why, I guess I didn't figure it would hurt this bad.

X

“How's Riley?” I ask, voice down to a whisper. Partially because it's sore, and partially because I really don't feel like talking right now.

“She's sleeping,” Ross says, “Like she normally does after a panic attack. The news about Elina must have broke her,”

“She shouldn't have broken up with John, though,”

“If she thought it was best, it probably was,” Ross says, although I can tell he doesn't believe it either.

Half of us were crying. I was, Ross did a little bit, Calvin and RJ had to let shock settle in before they cried.

Riley's was the worst though. Body-racking sobs, hyperventilating. A freak-out that caused her to break up with John. I don't know what's going on in that pretty little head of hers, but I know it can't be good.

Holland, on the other hand, is just not the type of person to cry. She was upset, but she wasn't bawling. Now, if Elina had died, maybe. But we're going to get her back, I just know it.

We have to.

Zack's

“Attention passengers, please buckle your seatbelts for the landing. We will be arriving in Phoenix shortly,” the pilot announces over the intercom.

I do as instructed, fastening the belt and sitting back in my seat.

This will be my first time going to my house in California without any of my band members. At least one of them always tags along. Maybe they wanted me to have some alone time with Elina.

And, no. Dates on tour do not count as 'alone time'.

As soon as I get off the plane, I turn my phone back on. I start to pull up a new text to Elina, so we can meet up with each other, but notice I have one new voicemail.

Confused, I punch in my password. “You have one new voicemail. First unheard message...”

“Zack...” Elina starts over the phone. Maybe she's telling me what store to meet her at.

She takes a long pause, breathing deeply. “I'm sorry. By the time you get this, I'll already be gone. I made sure I called when you were on the plane, and your phone was off.”

She takes a few more deep breaths, and I can hear her tears flowing, “It's just that-- that I couldn't stay. I know it sounds dumb, and selfish, but I...” her voice wavers throughout the words, “And I know I probably should have waited until after you left for another tour, or whatever, who knows? You might have changed my mind,”

She stops for a long time, and I'm afraid that she hung up without telling me the full story. I desperately search around the airport for her in vain. I know I won't find her there, she told me I wouldn't. Part of me wishes she changed her mind. Part of me wishes this were a cruel, cruel joke.

But the whole of me knows this is real.

She clears her throat, turning my attention back the the device held to my ear, “And, um. There's another reason. I didn't tell you. I should have. But... it's just so hard. To hear your reaction. Even over the phone I can see your worried face, and feel your heart sink. It's just easier to say it like this. So I don't feel the pain I cause you.

“Mr. Tomas, he... took advantage of me.”

My face is etched with worry, and my heart sinks, just like she said. And I know that's the real reason she left, not because of some stupid things going on inside her head.

Well, those probably didn't help either.

“And I... I almost hurt myself. Intentionally. I almost cut myself with a razor,”

Oh, Elina. Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped.

Could I have? Could I have stopped her from going over the edge? Could I have talked her into staying in a place that's filled to the brim with painful memories? Could I have helped her? At least a little?

“B-but I didn't. I didn't, so don't worry about that. I don't know why I didn't, it's not like anyone really cares,”

Suddenly, I get really angry. I care. What about me? Didn't she care at all?

Her voice jets me back down from my selfishness. How could I be so stupid? This isn't about me, it never has been.

“Anyone that does care eventually leaves, anyway. But I guess that makes me a hypocrite, huh?” She lets out a short, sad laugh, before crying some more.

“I'm so sorry that you wasted your money on tickets you won't use. And another to go back sooner. I can't decide what exactly pushed me to the edge of running away. It was probably the combination of everything, really. I don't know, I don't know,”

I sit down on the bench, wishing she were here beside me. This is all a dream. In a minute, I'll wake up on the airplane to California, and when I explain my dream to her, she'd laugh and say, “I'd never do that to you guys,” Then we'd both laugh together.

How relieved I'd be. I would hug her and never let her go, if I had another chance. I would kiss her until she couldn't breathe, then kiss her some more. I would say all the things I'd held in because I thought she didn't want to hear it. I would apologize for how much I had hurt her and never knew. I would say sorry for all the things that's happened to her. I would protect her from everything bad in this world, anything that dare threatens her.

I would carry the weight of the world on my shoulders if it meant I could see her smile again. God, when was the last time I saw her smile? I don't think I ever did, not a real one. If she did smile, it was because she thought something was funny. And even then it faded away quickly.

“I, uh. I left,” she chuckles, “I guess you gathered that, yeah? But, uh, I went away, far away. I don't think I'll be back for a while,” she pauses, “Maybe ever. It's very possible that I die on the streets,”

Don't say that, Elina. Don't you fucking say that.

“I know you'll do everything in your power to find me, but I don't think that you will. Missing persons cases get shoved to the back burner, with all the kidnappings and murders. The police probably won't be on your side all that much. And I don't think that you alone, plus the band will be able to pinpoint my exact location.

“So... I guess this is goodbye...?” she laughs. I can hear her holding back tears, “Things will probably be a wreck back home, if you decide to visit. I just left a note for Dalton. It didn't explain all that much, I wrote it in a hurry, he was starting to wake up. I'm sorry, again, for leaving. I just didn't know how to deal with all that pain, all the times Mr. Tomas...” She stops, strangling a sob, “And all the times he was going to after that.

“It probably doesn't help that I haven't slept much since about Christmas,” she laughs cruelly again, “isn't fucked up that that's the first time Mr. Tomas raped me?”

What. A. Jackass. I swear, I will find him, and I will kill him. What gives him the right? To screw someone up like this? To screw Elina up? He is disgusting. Elina trusted him, probably more than she's trusted anyone. And he does that to her?

“Don't do anything stupid, though, like murder him. That will get you put in jail, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?” She laughs a little, like a real one, and I chuckle, too, in spite of the tears flowing down my cheeks.

If she says so, I won't kill him. But only because she told me not to.

“I wish I could see you again. God, if it were possible, I would. But now I'm already far away. And if I saw you, I wouldn't ever want you to leave my sight,”

She's nearing the end of the message, I can tell.

“Well, Zack.” She stops, looking for the right words, “Have a nice life,”

I know she didn't mean it like that. Not in a hurtful way. But still... it hit me like a ton of bricks.

And I just kneel there, a sobbing mess in the airport.

“To delete this message, press 1,” the robot voice says in my ear, “To save it in the archives, press 2, to hear the next message press--,”

I hit 2. This is the last thing I have of her. The last thing to hold onto. And looking back now, I'm so glad I didn't add a time limit on my inbox.

Elina's

I took all of the money out of my account. I left the money Mr. Tomas 'paid' me with at the house. He can shove it, for all I care.

Right now, I'm shopping. New wardrobe. Hmm... Nevada is always hot, right? And dry, especially Las Vegas. So, shorts, tank tops? Sunglasses?

Hm. I will also need a new hair color. Maybe blonde. Yeah, complete opposite of my hair color. Or maybe red...? Nah.

I walk into the hair salon, the bell jingles behind me. Suddenly, I flash back to the time on tour when--

NO. I'm not Elina Renee Burgundy anymore.

“Hello, sweetie, I can take you over here,” and nice lady calls out to me. Her name tag reads, “Emily,”.

“What's your name, cutie pie?”

I sigh, “Rachel,”