Hey There Delilah

It would sound silly to anyone looking in, the promises, the never-ending trust the hopeful future. But what they didn’t know was that age was nothing but a number; to us to was nothing but a number. For anyone who thought I didn’t know what was going on, they were silly to think that.

I remember it like it was yesterday; the day we met. He was a crazy, tattooed, pierced rebellious band member and me? Well I was that girl with her hair pinned up in clip, strands of hair blowing in the wind, with an almost lost and magical look upon her face. I was that girl that had to much to hope for and too less to go on. To me creativity trumped everything else and dear God was he ever creative.

Now that I looked back on that day, never would I imagine waiting for him, outside airports. Never would I have imagined he’d still remain mine even after all those years. Never would I have imagined that all those promises, trustful words would actually come true. I wouldn’t have once thought that after all those late night calls, hushed whispers and silent ‘I love you’s’, would I still remain Zacky Baker’s.

We never had time together, that was set in stone. Whenever he’d go on tour, I’d have to go to another photo shoot or photo calling. No, I wasn’t a model, just a photographer; and a damn good one at that. I took a bunch of pictures of the band, hell I was awesome friends with them, but, it never was like that before.

When the guys first found out about Zacky and I, they didn’t believe it; someone like me, ending up with someone like Zack? It was impossible, opposite, weird, odd, whatever you wanted to call it. They’d make fun of us for how instead of wild nights out on the town, we’d stay indoors and just snuggle up to a quick movie.

I can still remember just lying between his legs, his arms around me, snuggled against his chest. I felt so safe and secure it was almost heavenly. I missed that feeling so much. We’d watch anything showing, or pop in a movie. And during it we’d end up having food fights, laughing and making jokes. Which would eventually lead to making out and other activities, but everything just felt perfect, in order; it all felt right.

Just staying in his arms felt right. Every look, wink, smile, everything he threw at me just felt right. And I know, what would someone who was 6 years younger than him know that? Yeah, that’s right, I had first met Zacky when I was 17, and he was 23. I amazed me that he even showed a bit of interest in me. I mean firstly I was legal—not that he cared—and secondly, I barely was out of my teens. What he saw in me, I’d never know.

But let me tell you what I saw in him. I saw this dude at the brink of adulthood, in a metal band, covered in body art with a rebellious streak to him and the first thing I could think was; why the hell is he interested in someone like me? I was a girl too engrossed in her pictures to tell reality from imagination. I lived my days behind the lens with coffee cups and cigarette butts. I’d lived and breathed in pictures, it was my love, my life, my passion. And than just when life was getting less complicated, I run into Mr. Zachary Baker.

After the first couple of times out, I could officially say that he actually seemed interested. And not just for a quick fuck here or there, he genuinely seemed interested. I remember the late night talks about how he said once he got big, we’d live this big, extravagant life. He promised that we’d be out of this money issue and be, in his words, ‘rollin’ in the millions’. He had so much hope in his eyes, I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t know how it would work, but I’d pray to God it would.

We even finally got his friends to accept me. The minute they found out he was serious about us, they dropped the bitch act and welcomed me with open arms.

It was ridiculous, the amount of hope and ambition we both lived by. There was so much to say for us both and so little time. Anytime we got together, we’d cherish it to no end. Constantly working our asses off, being shipped from one place to another—him and his guitar, me and my camera—we didn’t know if this could work anymore.

This usually resulted in fights we’d share over the phone, but those were easily looked over the minute we remembered we wouldn’t be able to live without each other.
I used to think that, that the calls that I did get from him were quick and full of nothing, but now that I looked back, they meant just as much to me as our, cherished, few moments together. We didn’t really talk, just soaked up each others company, via cell or chat.

God, now that I think about it, all those moments he’d get yelled at for being to loud on the bus, or when I got shushed by passengers sitting behind me on the plane were the best. We’d talk about what we were doing, how we felt, how his shows were, how my photo shoots went. I’d constantly bug him about his diet and he’d constantly say that he’d be glad to get rid of some; if he gave it to me. He thought I didn’t eat enough. Well, in my defense I’d like to say he ate too much.

But that didn’t matter to me. I loved the way he looked. Who cares if he wasn’t all tall, dark and handsome with protruding muscles and a defined chest? I liked snuggling into something; not a damn rock.

There were times when being away from him hurt so much, I’d turn on a song by the band and just fall asleep to it, thinking back to our time together, back to moments where we’d be stuck together, without even thinking of moving. Back to lying on our backs, staring at the sky or just listening to anything on the radio. Or, sitting in a coffee shop drinking coffee—or in his case beer.

I remember all the useless and irrelevant texts he sent me. Just simply saying ‘ I love you’ or ‘ I miss you’. At the time they didn’t seem like much, but looking back, God I wish I had answered better to them because than I’d compare them to the bigger texts he sent and it crush my heart because he seemed to be just as painfully missing me as I did him. I could tell when he called.

Never in 100 years would I imagine our teenager fling would into something so strong. I remember missing or ditching school just to jump into his car and ride around, talking and getting to know each other. I remember the first time I let him take the one thing most prized to me. And I remember not regretting it to this day. He was pretty much my first for everything and never would I have imagined that he would become my everything.

So who the hell cares if he’s that much older than me? Who cares about age, because as far as I’m concerned age hasn’t been a problem to us for a while. So I walked out of my terminal and not expecting to see him waiting there, I naturally freaked out. My bags dropped and ran towards him, flinging my arms around him. Those had been the longest 2 years of my life away from him. I had left for New York when I was 20 to study more photography, that’s why we barely met. And now, I was finally returning to LA, back home.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and picked me up in the air. I laughed and grabbed him around the neck and kissed his cheek, “God, I missed you more than life itself.” He smiled into my neck and kissed it. He dropped me to the ground and smiled, “You are never going away for that long again, or I swear I’ll drag you back.” I smiled and kissed him full on the lips. I went o my tippy toes, and wrapped my arms around his neck.

I felt his arms once again wrap around my torso and rub my side gently. I smiled and bit on his lip playfully. He made a soft grunting noise and I chuckled. I granted him entrance into my mouth and we tangled our tongues together. I deepened the kiss and tightened my grip around his neck. My smile dropping to a certain type of need or want, “Don’t fucking leave me again.” I whimpered in return to the sound of desperation to his voice and nodded,

“Never.” He rubbed my sides one more time and we broke apart,

“Lets go, move nights on me tonight.” He winked and I smiled, grabbing his hand as we walked out of the airport.

Now this felt more like home. Lying in between his legs, with a movie playing, his arms wrapped tightly around me and him whispering nothing into my ear. I missed this feeling. This feeling of love and warmth and want and passion, all of this. I chuckled as a funny part in the movie. He leaned over to get his drink and stretched.

“So what was so special about New York anyways?” He set his drink back down. The movie was put to silent and I sat in front of him and shrugged, “I don’t know, it just looked like the perfect place for what I needed to do.”

He nodded, and shrugged, “You couldn’t just stay in Huntington?” I raised an eye brow and shook my head, “Zacky, I needed to go out and explore. You were off with the guys and I felt lonely. Photography always takes that away, you know that.” I gave him a strange look. His face automatically softened,

“I’m not calling you out of this love, I was just wondering.” I smiled at the change of heart and shrugged, getting more comfortable, “I don’t know, you’ve been there babe. You can’t tell me that place doesn’t have some picture worthy places. You know, minus all the toxic smoke and homeless people.” My face fell at that a bit. Zacky knew as well I did the problem I had with nothing being done about the homeless people. The problem I had with that and animal experimentation; don’t get me started on that.

“No, I completely agree with you, they do have some lovely places.” I grinned,

“See, point proven, now tell me, how was the tour?” Zacky grinned wide and launched animatedly into his story about the tour. He talked about the pranks the guys pulled, the crazy, devoted fans and all the fun they had on the road. We purposely didn’t talk about the ‘groupie’ part of tour because I didn’t want him to feel bad. Even if Zacky did sleep around, I didn’t know if I’d be angry at him or not. I mean, I couldn’t blame him, he was a guy with natural, human needs. But I don’t know if I’d be completely comfortable with it. I know a couple of times he did sleep around, he’d call and tell and than apologize till the next week.

After a while you just learned to forgive and forget. But who knew, maybe I’d never find out.

“That sounds amazing love.” He smiled. All of a sudden he got up and went into our room. I raised an eye brow when he came out, a skeptical and nervous look on his face. I stared into his green orbs with my hazel ones. What was he so nervous about He breathed in and continued,

“So, we’ve been through a lot in the past years and I remember I promised you a life full of comfort and love. I-I remember I promised you that one day this band would pay off, that we’d be able to spend more time together and I know I haven’t really been able to keep my promise. What with me on the road and you out and about but I swear to you Delilah, I swore that I’d love you forever and I intend to keep that promise…” when he trailed off I felt my heart slow down a bit. Was he seriously about to do what I thought he was?

He pulled out a small, velvet box. He breathed in and looked me in the eyes, “Delilah, will you marry me?” I stared at him with big, wide eyes and nodded faintly, not being able to make coherent sentences.

So all those late night calls and promises did lead up to something good. They led up to one of the best things that could have happened to me.

He slipped the ring onto my finger and kissed me softly on the lips. His lips brushed against my cheek and than a heard a single sentence that turned my world inside out,

“Times Square can’t shine as bright as you…”