Sad_Girl
Blue Crack Supplier
Disclaimer: 100% pure fiction. Nothing within is true, or meant to be taken as such.
Yeah, I know I said Monday, but my U2 tickets arrived today and I was so excited and inspired I sat aside an extra hour to finish my story.
Part 9: to catch a thief
“What happened between the two of you?” Bono asked, turning back from the closed door. Cat shook her head quietly, and he could tell she was mortified by what Adam must think.
“Nothing. I mean, I though… I wanted to… I thought we had something… thought we could have something, at least. But he didn’t want to, he was just trying to be let me know that he wasn’t interested, letting me down easy, you know? So, I guess he really thinks I’m some piece of work, now. Turned down earlier in the evening by him and in bed with his best friend by the next morning.” She said, blinking dry eyes. She had no tears left to cry. Still, she felt much stronger this morning.
“It wasn’t like that.” Bono started, but Cat stood and waved him off with one hand, gathering her now only damp clothes.
“It doesn’t really matter. Besides, it could have been. I mean it almost was…” She said, sighing.
“Sweetheart, What happened was… well, it wasn’t the right thing. That’s true. But, believe it or not, I don’t think there was much risk of following through. You needed comfort, you hurt. He turned you away, and you turned to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You didn’t think we’d ‘follow through’?” She asked, staring at him in disgust. A broad smile spread across his face and made her scowl deepen.
“We took some comfort in each other, Cat, but it wasn’t really about sex, was it?” He asked. Her first urge was to say that it was, actually, but in her heart she knew that wasn’t true. Here she was in the bedroom of a man who was lusted after by thousands, and she felt only an average, normal desire toward him. A basic, average I’m-a-woman-you’re-a man attraction. She felt a stronger urge to have him hug her as a friend, a comrade, than to have him seduce her. He was sexy as hell, but she knew that it wasn’t right between them.
Whatsmore, he knew it, and so no matter what raw potential there was for them, the passion would not be there. That was the bottom line for both of them. Passion. It had to be a strong, urgent thing, something that would drive them forward without a thought. That was the way these two were built. They were far too much alike too ever be lovers. They would make themselves sick over it, thinking too much, knowing in their gut something was wrong.
No, they were creatures driven by romance and passion, neither of which described what they felt for each other. They had a kinship, an understanding of one another. They entertained each other, and even respected one another.
“No. You’re right.” She finally agreed, sinking back onto the bed like a deflated balloon. “I’m still embarrassed that what happened… happened.”
“You shouldn’t be. It felt natural enough, didn’t it? You needed someone to show you tenderness, and that’s what I did.” He argued, sitting up against the headboard, his hands folded behind his head. She nodded, feeling infinitely better about so many things in her life, she knew she would never regret the time they’d shared. “And now we’re better friends.” He teased, making her chuckle.
“Yeah. That’s fair.” She agreed as he leaned forward and kissed her on top of her head as he rose to leave the room.
“We have a flight to New York in a couple of hours, so I’d better get going. I’m glad we decided to stick around last night and fly out today, Cat. I’m sorry about your friends.” He told her and she nodded numbly. She had a long day ahead of her yet.
“Yeah, it’s going to be tough. Thank you, though. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She replied with a weak smile. He peeked out the door.
“Looks like everybody’s cleared out, if you want to slip out. I’m going hit the shower.” He told her before slipping out the door. Cat dressed quickly, hurrying to leave before she had to face the others. Surely, Adam would have something to say about it, but at least by then she would be gone. No sooner had she called for the elevator than Larry rounded the corner, coming to investigate what had caused Adam’s sudden bad mood. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared hard at her. The harder she tried not to feel guilty, the guiltier she looked.
“Un-fucking-believable.” He said, shaking his head, his eyes turning upward in a show of disgust.
“It’s not what you think.” She told him coldly. He laughed sarcastically and held his hands up as if to keep them clean of the messy situation. Half of her wanted to argue with the man, but she kept her cool and reserved her strength for the trials of the day which lay before her. She turned and entered the elevator silently, but she looked out at him, meeting his eyes and refusing to look ashamed of something she had not done.
*************************************************************
“What the fuck song are you even playing?” Bono asked as Edge and Larry stopped mid-song, all eyes swinging from Bono to Adam. Adam, who had said less than twenty word to Bono in the four days since they left Memphis. Adam, whose usual laid back, easy-going manner had turned serious and brooding. Adam, whose mind was clearly not on the rehearsal at hand.
“You know what?” Adam responded, releasing the catch on his guitar strap. “Play it your fucking self!” he told Bono hotly, tossing the guitar onto the floor, sending it skidding noisily. He turned to storm off but Bono caught up with him, stepping in his path.
“I’m pretty sick of this shit, Adam. I try to talk to you, and you tell me to drop it. Then you walk around acting like I ran over your dog or some shit.” Bono told him, the temper he’d learned to control over the years threatening to break through. Edge was already moving to intervene, half expecting Bono to start a shoving match. What actually happened next, was slightly more unexpected. Bono never saw it coming, either.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Adam cursed, swinging out and striking Bono hard against the left side of his face, sending his sunglasses skidding. Edge switched from the pace at which he’d been walking into a run to break them up before anyone got really hurt.
“Holy fucking hell!” Larry was saying as he, too leapt to his feet and moved to break up the fight. He sent the high-hat tumbling in his rush, and the noise was just another in the chaos which had broken out.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Edge was asking, standing between Bono and Adam, his arms spread to keep them apart. Bono was standing behind him, glaring at Adam in utter shock, his pride hurting more than his eye.
“They’re fighting over Cat.” Larry informed him, his arms crossed over his chest. “Fighting over a girl like a couple of fifteen year old boys.”
“What?” Edge asked in utter disbelief, looking back and forth between the three people he’d been through so much with over the years that he had thought he’d seen it all.
“She slept with B the night before we left Memphis.” Larry informed Edge when neither of the others spoke up.
“WHAT?!?!” Edge asked again, starting to feel like he was in an episode of the twilight zone.
“We didn’t sleep together.” Bono stated coolly. He was starting to calm down, but he was still glaring at Adam as if he were the enemy, rather than a lifelong friend.
“Bull shit! I know what I saw with my own fucking eyes!” Adam shot.
“Wha?!?!” Edge was still asking, but neither of the men were paying any attention to him any more. He dropped his arms and Bono stepped up beside him, but Edge stayed on guard just in case they started brawling again. It had been a few years, but the four of them had been through their share of fistfights.
“What did you see? Did you see me bloody touch her?” Bono demanded. “No, you saw her sitting in the bed and you believed what you wanted to believe. You’ve known me long enough, I would’ve thought I’d at least get the benefit of the doubt!” Adam glared at his friend, tempted to believe him, but not quite able to.
“What else would she have been doing there?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a passion Adam rarely allowed to show through.
“She didn’t want to be alone.” He said. “She’d had kind of a shitty night.”
“What did she say about me?” Adam started, immediately defensive.
“She didn’t say anything about you, except for the fact that she couldn’t go to you, looking for comfort. You’d turned her away.”
“I didn’t! She jumped to conclusions, ran out on me…” He objected.
“And when she ran out, she went to the hospital to discover that Charlene and Gunnar were dead.”
“What? Both of them?” Larry piped up this time.
“He overdosed, apparently, after she died.”
“So, she felt like she’d just been rejected by Adam, found out not one but two of her friends were dead, and one of those friends was a part of the band which she viewed as the only good thing she really had in her life. Her life was falling apart. Do you believe for one second I could’ve or would’ve turned her away? That I made the wrong decision? Maybe I didn’t handle it the best…” Bono said, his blue eyes dark with the tinniest hint of remorse. “But at least I didn’t turn her away.”
“You didn’t even touch her?” Adam asked, suddenly suspicious again.
“I didn’t… I didn’t say that. But Adam, Christ, you weren’t there.” He replied, raking his hands through his hair. Adam’s eyes fell, his fists unclenched.
“Your right. I wasn’t. I wasn’t there.” He replied with a deep sigh. “I thought… I honestly thought it would be better if I just walked away.” He moved over to lean against his amp. “I was scared, I convinced myself it was better to just walk away.”
“Scared of what?” Larry asked, baffled.
“Of… of HER.” Adam shrugged. “She’s seventeen years younger than me, and she’s struggling to start a career in music. She’s …”
“Oh my God.” Edge muttered, running a callused hand over his face. “I honestly never thought I’d see the day.”
“What’re you talking about?” Bono asked.
“Adam’s in love.”
**********************************************************
Thanks to an anonymous donation, the Stevens family had not had to pay a dime for the funerals. As long as the week had been, emotionally, the financial burden being lifted had helped significantly. Cat, of course, had her suspicions, but she wanted to confirm them before saying anything.
Gunnar had written out a long letter, the day he’d been diagnosed, Alex suspected. In the letter he had set out instructions for their funeral services. He’d dictated to whom their meager belongings would go, and he’d made one final request. It made Cat’s heart ache, that in some moments after his death she had cursed him for ruining the band. She’d felt guilty immediately, of course, but it had still occurred to her. They were on the brink of breaking into a real career in music, and he’d abandoned them.
His final request was simple. He wanted them to stay together. He asked Alex to be strong, to keep Tequila Monster together, just the three of them. Cat would have to learn to play bass and sing at the same time, but it wouldn’t be an impossible task. He’d asked that they keep him and Charlene alive in their music. Every time they got together to play, some small part of them would be alive again, he said.
Lastly, he’d made one final song request.
Dressed in black, though not in the Sunday suits most of the mourners wore, Cat, Alex and Krash stood front and center in the church. She glanced back at Alex who nodded to let her know he was ready, then at Krash.
“Gunnar knew I tended to get a little wordy.” Cat said, and a ripple of polite laughter ran through the congregation. “So, instead of me standing up here and re-telling stories we’ve all heard or telling you all how I feel or how you feel, or how you should feel… wow, I really do talk too much, don’t I?” she asked, and another polite chuckle arose. “He asked in a letter than rather than I talk at you all, we celebrate the time we shared with them in the way that they loved best.”
Cat picked up Gunnar’s bass, flipping the switch and hearing the amp hum to life. Alex set the rhythm by clacking the sticks together and suddenly the church was alive, filled to the rafters with the vibrant sound of music. Gunnar had never been the pipe organ type, and for the first time, as the church was filled with the sound of rock music, people felt close to him, in this place.
“These are the words he wanted to say to you all.” She told them.
Just like with every other song they had ever covered, they refused to do it exactly the same way the band before them had. They used the instruments they wanted, played them the way they wanted, and they made the song their own. Even so, those who knew it recognized it from the very first chords. A murmur of approval and emotion brought the sound level up even further, and it sounded exactly like a rock concert. The people walking by would never have imagined that a funeral was talking place inside.
“Something is about to give.” Cat sang tentatively, afraid her voice would break. “I can feel it coming, I think I know what it means. I'm not afraid to die, I'm not afraid to live… And when I'm flat on my back I hope to feel like I did!” She sang, each word bringing her more strength. Each word sung with more emotion than the last.
She turned to look at Alex as she sang: “I want you to know that you don't need me anymore!
I want you to know you don't need anyone, anything at all! Who's to say where the wind will take you
Who's to know what it is will break you? I don't know which way the wind will blow. Who's to know when the time has come around? Don't wanna see you cry! I know that this is not goodbye…”
The bittersweet message was magnified by Cat’s unique voice, strong and weak somehow at the same time. A strength of will and vulerability struggling for balance, just as it was in Cat herself. As the song wound down, she looked around the room. There were a lot of familiar faces, many bearing their own memories for her. Gunnar and Alex’s family, of course; high school friends and bartenders from the clubs they had played.
Finally, her eyes fell on a man in a black trench coat standing near the door, and she stared in shock. Everyone could see the baffled look on her face, but she recovered quickly, looking away. As the Pastor prepared to say a finally blessing and Alex and Krash returned to their seats, Cat made her way to the back of the church.
“What are you…?” She started to ask, but he nodded silently at the door, opening it for her. They stepped outside into the bright sun, the sounds of traffic in the distance. The songs of the sparrows were closer, and the pastor’s monotone voice lifted in prayer could be heard through the door, though it was muffled.
“I’m sorry.” He told her, and she turned to look up at him in shock.
“I --- I’m sorry.” She replied, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Adam.”
“Neither do you.” He told her, and she could see in his eyes that he meant it. She didn’t know what had changed in the last few days, but the relief she felt knowing that he did not hate her was like the weight of the world being lifted off her shoulders.
“I’m not good at this sort of thing.” He told her, looking down at his feet, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I only gave it a serious try once, and it turned out really very bad.”
“I know.” She told him, thinking back on the clips she’d read in the tabloids and entertainment magazines. “I’ve never been good at it either. I jump to conclusions and tend to run away rather than fight things out.” She informed him.
“So neither of us knows much about whatever you want to call it, this… feeling between us. How would you like to see if we can’t figure it out together.” He asked, and she smiled brightly.
“I don’t know…” she said playfully. “You see, this famous rock star called me this morning and he wants my band to open for his on this little ten city promotional tour they’re going to be doing.”
“He already called you? Wanker.” He replied with a toothy smile. “I was supposed to call him later so he could ask.”
“Well, he called to make sure the flowers he ordered were delivered. I just kept him talking.”
“Which isn’t hard.”
“No, that’s true. It just sort of… spilled out.” She told him.
“Did anything else spill out?” He asked.
“Like what? That you were on your way? No, I had no clue.” She told him.
“How about the fact that they all realized that I was in love with you before I knew it?” He asked, watching Cat’s eyes grow round at his words. She opened her mouth to say something, but then opted to tell him how she felt another way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, gently but passionately.
“Mmmm. This might not be so difficult to figure out after all.” He told her, smirking at her in that roguish way she so desperately loved. His forehead rested against hers, and she smiled back at him. It felt strange, to smile again so soon, but not wrong. He brushed his lips over hers lightly before hugging her close. She drew in a deep breath, feeling the most unusual sensation. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like coming home. She felt safe.
“So.” He said as they broke their embrace. “Are you in a hurry then, or can you walk with me for a bit?” he asked. She nodded and fell into step beside him in a comfortable, companionable silence, slipping her hand into his.
**The beginning of something beautiful, and the end of our story. Thanks for coming along.**
Yeah, I know I said Monday, but my U2 tickets arrived today and I was so excited and inspired I sat aside an extra hour to finish my story.
Part 9: to catch a thief
“What happened between the two of you?” Bono asked, turning back from the closed door. Cat shook her head quietly, and he could tell she was mortified by what Adam must think.
“Nothing. I mean, I though… I wanted to… I thought we had something… thought we could have something, at least. But he didn’t want to, he was just trying to be let me know that he wasn’t interested, letting me down easy, you know? So, I guess he really thinks I’m some piece of work, now. Turned down earlier in the evening by him and in bed with his best friend by the next morning.” She said, blinking dry eyes. She had no tears left to cry. Still, she felt much stronger this morning.
“It wasn’t like that.” Bono started, but Cat stood and waved him off with one hand, gathering her now only damp clothes.
“It doesn’t really matter. Besides, it could have been. I mean it almost was…” She said, sighing.
“Sweetheart, What happened was… well, it wasn’t the right thing. That’s true. But, believe it or not, I don’t think there was much risk of following through. You needed comfort, you hurt. He turned you away, and you turned to me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? You didn’t think we’d ‘follow through’?” She asked, staring at him in disgust. A broad smile spread across his face and made her scowl deepen.
“We took some comfort in each other, Cat, but it wasn’t really about sex, was it?” He asked. Her first urge was to say that it was, actually, but in her heart she knew that wasn’t true. Here she was in the bedroom of a man who was lusted after by thousands, and she felt only an average, normal desire toward him. A basic, average I’m-a-woman-you’re-a man attraction. She felt a stronger urge to have him hug her as a friend, a comrade, than to have him seduce her. He was sexy as hell, but she knew that it wasn’t right between them.
Whatsmore, he knew it, and so no matter what raw potential there was for them, the passion would not be there. That was the bottom line for both of them. Passion. It had to be a strong, urgent thing, something that would drive them forward without a thought. That was the way these two were built. They were far too much alike too ever be lovers. They would make themselves sick over it, thinking too much, knowing in their gut something was wrong.
No, they were creatures driven by romance and passion, neither of which described what they felt for each other. They had a kinship, an understanding of one another. They entertained each other, and even respected one another.
“No. You’re right.” She finally agreed, sinking back onto the bed like a deflated balloon. “I’m still embarrassed that what happened… happened.”
“You shouldn’t be. It felt natural enough, didn’t it? You needed someone to show you tenderness, and that’s what I did.” He argued, sitting up against the headboard, his hands folded behind his head. She nodded, feeling infinitely better about so many things in her life, she knew she would never regret the time they’d shared. “And now we’re better friends.” He teased, making her chuckle.
“Yeah. That’s fair.” She agreed as he leaned forward and kissed her on top of her head as he rose to leave the room.
“We have a flight to New York in a couple of hours, so I’d better get going. I’m glad we decided to stick around last night and fly out today, Cat. I’m sorry about your friends.” He told her and she nodded numbly. She had a long day ahead of her yet.
“Yeah, it’s going to be tough. Thank you, though. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She replied with a weak smile. He peeked out the door.
“Looks like everybody’s cleared out, if you want to slip out. I’m going hit the shower.” He told her before slipping out the door. Cat dressed quickly, hurrying to leave before she had to face the others. Surely, Adam would have something to say about it, but at least by then she would be gone. No sooner had she called for the elevator than Larry rounded the corner, coming to investigate what had caused Adam’s sudden bad mood. He stopped dead in his tracks and stared hard at her. The harder she tried not to feel guilty, the guiltier she looked.
“Un-fucking-believable.” He said, shaking his head, his eyes turning upward in a show of disgust.
“It’s not what you think.” She told him coldly. He laughed sarcastically and held his hands up as if to keep them clean of the messy situation. Half of her wanted to argue with the man, but she kept her cool and reserved her strength for the trials of the day which lay before her. She turned and entered the elevator silently, but she looked out at him, meeting his eyes and refusing to look ashamed of something she had not done.
*************************************************************
“What the fuck song are you even playing?” Bono asked as Edge and Larry stopped mid-song, all eyes swinging from Bono to Adam. Adam, who had said less than twenty word to Bono in the four days since they left Memphis. Adam, whose usual laid back, easy-going manner had turned serious and brooding. Adam, whose mind was clearly not on the rehearsal at hand.
“You know what?” Adam responded, releasing the catch on his guitar strap. “Play it your fucking self!” he told Bono hotly, tossing the guitar onto the floor, sending it skidding noisily. He turned to storm off but Bono caught up with him, stepping in his path.
“I’m pretty sick of this shit, Adam. I try to talk to you, and you tell me to drop it. Then you walk around acting like I ran over your dog or some shit.” Bono told him, the temper he’d learned to control over the years threatening to break through. Edge was already moving to intervene, half expecting Bono to start a shoving match. What actually happened next, was slightly more unexpected. Bono never saw it coming, either.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Adam cursed, swinging out and striking Bono hard against the left side of his face, sending his sunglasses skidding. Edge switched from the pace at which he’d been walking into a run to break them up before anyone got really hurt.
“Holy fucking hell!” Larry was saying as he, too leapt to his feet and moved to break up the fight. He sent the high-hat tumbling in his rush, and the noise was just another in the chaos which had broken out.
“What the hell is the matter with you?” Edge was asking, standing between Bono and Adam, his arms spread to keep them apart. Bono was standing behind him, glaring at Adam in utter shock, his pride hurting more than his eye.
“They’re fighting over Cat.” Larry informed him, his arms crossed over his chest. “Fighting over a girl like a couple of fifteen year old boys.”
“What?” Edge asked in utter disbelief, looking back and forth between the three people he’d been through so much with over the years that he had thought he’d seen it all.
“She slept with B the night before we left Memphis.” Larry informed Edge when neither of the others spoke up.
“WHAT?!?!” Edge asked again, starting to feel like he was in an episode of the twilight zone.
“We didn’t sleep together.” Bono stated coolly. He was starting to calm down, but he was still glaring at Adam as if he were the enemy, rather than a lifelong friend.
“Bull shit! I know what I saw with my own fucking eyes!” Adam shot.
“Wha?!?!” Edge was still asking, but neither of the men were paying any attention to him any more. He dropped his arms and Bono stepped up beside him, but Edge stayed on guard just in case they started brawling again. It had been a few years, but the four of them had been through their share of fistfights.
“What did you see? Did you see me bloody touch her?” Bono demanded. “No, you saw her sitting in the bed and you believed what you wanted to believe. You’ve known me long enough, I would’ve thought I’d at least get the benefit of the doubt!” Adam glared at his friend, tempted to believe him, but not quite able to.
“What else would she have been doing there?” He asked, his eyes flashing with a passion Adam rarely allowed to show through.
“She didn’t want to be alone.” He said. “She’d had kind of a shitty night.”
“What did she say about me?” Adam started, immediately defensive.
“She didn’t say anything about you, except for the fact that she couldn’t go to you, looking for comfort. You’d turned her away.”
“I didn’t! She jumped to conclusions, ran out on me…” He objected.
“And when she ran out, she went to the hospital to discover that Charlene and Gunnar were dead.”
“What? Both of them?” Larry piped up this time.
“He overdosed, apparently, after she died.”
“So, she felt like she’d just been rejected by Adam, found out not one but two of her friends were dead, and one of those friends was a part of the band which she viewed as the only good thing she really had in her life. Her life was falling apart. Do you believe for one second I could’ve or would’ve turned her away? That I made the wrong decision? Maybe I didn’t handle it the best…” Bono said, his blue eyes dark with the tinniest hint of remorse. “But at least I didn’t turn her away.”
“You didn’t even touch her?” Adam asked, suddenly suspicious again.
“I didn’t… I didn’t say that. But Adam, Christ, you weren’t there.” He replied, raking his hands through his hair. Adam’s eyes fell, his fists unclenched.
“Your right. I wasn’t. I wasn’t there.” He replied with a deep sigh. “I thought… I honestly thought it would be better if I just walked away.” He moved over to lean against his amp. “I was scared, I convinced myself it was better to just walk away.”
“Scared of what?” Larry asked, baffled.
“Of… of HER.” Adam shrugged. “She’s seventeen years younger than me, and she’s struggling to start a career in music. She’s …”
“Oh my God.” Edge muttered, running a callused hand over his face. “I honestly never thought I’d see the day.”
“What’re you talking about?” Bono asked.
“Adam’s in love.”
**********************************************************
Thanks to an anonymous donation, the Stevens family had not had to pay a dime for the funerals. As long as the week had been, emotionally, the financial burden being lifted had helped significantly. Cat, of course, had her suspicions, but she wanted to confirm them before saying anything.
Gunnar had written out a long letter, the day he’d been diagnosed, Alex suspected. In the letter he had set out instructions for their funeral services. He’d dictated to whom their meager belongings would go, and he’d made one final request. It made Cat’s heart ache, that in some moments after his death she had cursed him for ruining the band. She’d felt guilty immediately, of course, but it had still occurred to her. They were on the brink of breaking into a real career in music, and he’d abandoned them.
His final request was simple. He wanted them to stay together. He asked Alex to be strong, to keep Tequila Monster together, just the three of them. Cat would have to learn to play bass and sing at the same time, but it wouldn’t be an impossible task. He’d asked that they keep him and Charlene alive in their music. Every time they got together to play, some small part of them would be alive again, he said.
Lastly, he’d made one final song request.
Dressed in black, though not in the Sunday suits most of the mourners wore, Cat, Alex and Krash stood front and center in the church. She glanced back at Alex who nodded to let her know he was ready, then at Krash.
“Gunnar knew I tended to get a little wordy.” Cat said, and a ripple of polite laughter ran through the congregation. “So, instead of me standing up here and re-telling stories we’ve all heard or telling you all how I feel or how you feel, or how you should feel… wow, I really do talk too much, don’t I?” she asked, and another polite chuckle arose. “He asked in a letter than rather than I talk at you all, we celebrate the time we shared with them in the way that they loved best.”
Cat picked up Gunnar’s bass, flipping the switch and hearing the amp hum to life. Alex set the rhythm by clacking the sticks together and suddenly the church was alive, filled to the rafters with the vibrant sound of music. Gunnar had never been the pipe organ type, and for the first time, as the church was filled with the sound of rock music, people felt close to him, in this place.
“These are the words he wanted to say to you all.” She told them.
Just like with every other song they had ever covered, they refused to do it exactly the same way the band before them had. They used the instruments they wanted, played them the way they wanted, and they made the song their own. Even so, those who knew it recognized it from the very first chords. A murmur of approval and emotion brought the sound level up even further, and it sounded exactly like a rock concert. The people walking by would never have imagined that a funeral was talking place inside.
“Something is about to give.” Cat sang tentatively, afraid her voice would break. “I can feel it coming, I think I know what it means. I'm not afraid to die, I'm not afraid to live… And when I'm flat on my back I hope to feel like I did!” She sang, each word bringing her more strength. Each word sung with more emotion than the last.
She turned to look at Alex as she sang: “I want you to know that you don't need me anymore!
I want you to know you don't need anyone, anything at all! Who's to say where the wind will take you
Who's to know what it is will break you? I don't know which way the wind will blow. Who's to know when the time has come around? Don't wanna see you cry! I know that this is not goodbye…”
The bittersweet message was magnified by Cat’s unique voice, strong and weak somehow at the same time. A strength of will and vulerability struggling for balance, just as it was in Cat herself. As the song wound down, she looked around the room. There were a lot of familiar faces, many bearing their own memories for her. Gunnar and Alex’s family, of course; high school friends and bartenders from the clubs they had played.
Finally, her eyes fell on a man in a black trench coat standing near the door, and she stared in shock. Everyone could see the baffled look on her face, but she recovered quickly, looking away. As the Pastor prepared to say a finally blessing and Alex and Krash returned to their seats, Cat made her way to the back of the church.
“What are you…?” She started to ask, but he nodded silently at the door, opening it for her. They stepped outside into the bright sun, the sounds of traffic in the distance. The songs of the sparrows were closer, and the pastor’s monotone voice lifted in prayer could be heard through the door, though it was muffled.
“I’m sorry.” He told her, and she turned to look up at him in shock.
“I --- I’m sorry.” She replied, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Adam.”
“Neither do you.” He told her, and she could see in his eyes that he meant it. She didn’t know what had changed in the last few days, but the relief she felt knowing that he did not hate her was like the weight of the world being lifted off her shoulders.
“I’m not good at this sort of thing.” He told her, looking down at his feet, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I only gave it a serious try once, and it turned out really very bad.”
“I know.” She told him, thinking back on the clips she’d read in the tabloids and entertainment magazines. “I’ve never been good at it either. I jump to conclusions and tend to run away rather than fight things out.” She informed him.
“So neither of us knows much about whatever you want to call it, this… feeling between us. How would you like to see if we can’t figure it out together.” He asked, and she smiled brightly.
“I don’t know…” she said playfully. “You see, this famous rock star called me this morning and he wants my band to open for his on this little ten city promotional tour they’re going to be doing.”
“He already called you? Wanker.” He replied with a toothy smile. “I was supposed to call him later so he could ask.”
“Well, he called to make sure the flowers he ordered were delivered. I just kept him talking.”
“Which isn’t hard.”
“No, that’s true. It just sort of… spilled out.” She told him.
“Did anything else spill out?” He asked.
“Like what? That you were on your way? No, I had no clue.” She told him.
“How about the fact that they all realized that I was in love with you before I knew it?” He asked, watching Cat’s eyes grow round at his words. She opened her mouth to say something, but then opted to tell him how she felt another way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, gently but passionately.
“Mmmm. This might not be so difficult to figure out after all.” He told her, smirking at her in that roguish way she so desperately loved. His forehead rested against hers, and she smiled back at him. It felt strange, to smile again so soon, but not wrong. He brushed his lips over hers lightly before hugging her close. She drew in a deep breath, feeling the most unusual sensation. It was something she hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like coming home. She felt safe.
“So.” He said as they broke their embrace. “Are you in a hurry then, or can you walk with me for a bit?” he asked. She nodded and fell into step beside him in a comfortable, companionable silence, slipping her hand into his.
**The beginning of something beautiful, and the end of our story. Thanks for coming along.**
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Well, it's not like I wrote 'The End' in big bold letters or anything.
Yea!!!!! 
Please??????? 
