‹ Prequel: Warmness on the Soul
The Way You Look Tonight
Cat-Like
“I… walked into a door.” Grace tried to convince him, as she had been for the last fifteen or so minutes, but Brian was having none of it.
“Grace, for fucks-sake I’m not an imbecile, if you had walked into a fucking door, that, that, thing would be on the other side.” he began pacing, running his hands through his hair.
“Brian, calm down, seriously. I’m fine.”
“Calm down? Grace someone hurt you, how do you expect me to forgive them for that?”
She whispered, “The same way you forgave yourself, Brian.”
He looked at her.
And in that moment, he knew why the guys thought he was such a waste of space, why Grace left for this God forsaken country. As if it wasn’t obvious before. It was him, he was the reason she’d climbed into a shell, he was the reason she wasn’t happy.
“Gracie…”
“Brian, drop it, we’ll talk when we get home, right now you have a show to play.”
Just then, Bri’ walked in, saw Grace standing there and, instantly, guilt ghosted his features, just as Brian turned around.
“It, it was him, wasn’t it, Gracie?” her silence was more than enough confirmation.
Brian sprang, almost cat-like, (in any other situation it would have been comical), towards Bri’, fist ready, eyes like slits.
Matt reacted almost as soon as Brian did, flying after his best friend and restraining his arms, Zacky and Jimmy standing in front of him, and Johnny not knowing what to do with himself, dithered between both parties.
Matt hissed into his ear, “Brian, don’t do it. He owns the club, we’ll get chucked out and disappoint all those people out there-”
“He hit her, Matt! He fucking laid his hands on her!” he struggled against Matt’s vice-grip.
“I know what he did, Brian, and I know he’s scum, but now is not the time. Play the show, sign some autographs and we’ll take her home. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” he sighed, shrugging the immense wait of Matt’s shoulders off his own.
“Now, do we got a show to play, or what?” Zacky smiled at Grace, clapping his hand on Brian’s back, handing him a guitar and walking towards the stage just as Black Tide walked off.
“Grace, for fucks-sake I’m not an imbecile, if you had walked into a fucking door, that, that, thing would be on the other side.” he began pacing, running his hands through his hair.
“Brian, calm down, seriously. I’m fine.”
“Calm down? Grace someone hurt you, how do you expect me to forgive them for that?”
She whispered, “The same way you forgave yourself, Brian.”
He looked at her.
And in that moment, he knew why the guys thought he was such a waste of space, why Grace left for this God forsaken country. As if it wasn’t obvious before. It was him, he was the reason she’d climbed into a shell, he was the reason she wasn’t happy.
“Gracie…”
“Brian, drop it, we’ll talk when we get home, right now you have a show to play.”
Just then, Bri’ walked in, saw Grace standing there and, instantly, guilt ghosted his features, just as Brian turned around.
“It, it was him, wasn’t it, Gracie?” her silence was more than enough confirmation.
Brian sprang, almost cat-like, (in any other situation it would have been comical), towards Bri’, fist ready, eyes like slits.
Matt reacted almost as soon as Brian did, flying after his best friend and restraining his arms, Zacky and Jimmy standing in front of him, and Johnny not knowing what to do with himself, dithered between both parties.
Matt hissed into his ear, “Brian, don’t do it. He owns the club, we’ll get chucked out and disappoint all those people out there-”
“He hit her, Matt! He fucking laid his hands on her!” he struggled against Matt’s vice-grip.
“I know what he did, Brian, and I know he’s scum, but now is not the time. Play the show, sign some autographs and we’ll take her home. Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it.” he sighed, shrugging the immense wait of Matt’s shoulders off his own.
“Now, do we got a show to play, or what?” Zacky smiled at Grace, clapping his hand on Brian’s back, handing him a guitar and walking towards the stage just as Black Tide walked off.