Part 14: Amelia
“You silly billy!” Amelia says as she looks in my eyes.
Laying on the cold floor, with green lights flashing, I still hear that song.
Oh, Amelia
You’re my Burning Desire
You don’t have to stay
Just don’t let go
Such a simple, dumb pop song, but all the memories, the pain, the insecurity, everything about it was so laden with memories of the girl I locked out of my mind. It was nice to be able to listen to the song for the first time in a while, just on its own merits, but I wonder if the whole point of songs like this are to fill in your own blanks.
It was odd to see her right next to me. I felt like I should feel something deeper. Maybe I should feel ecstatic, maybe I should be feeling dread, but the only thing I could think of was, “huh.”
“You don’t have a concussion or anything right?” she asks earnestly.
“No, no, I don’t think so,” I say while sitting up.
“You took quite a fall there! Whoopy-daisy!” she said as she did some sort of head nod. It feels like she is trying to reference something, but I have no clue what it is.
“Let’s go to the bathroom and clean you up, okay?” she grabs me by the shoulder and slowly takes me to the bathroom. I survey the dance floor and see mostly empty space, but crowds of people lined up against the walls, staring at me. I can’t blame them, if I saw someone dive off the stage like that, I would also think I was a crazy person.
I try to see if Ben and Max were still on stage, but my neck is in so much pain that I can’t turn it to look. The only thing I can see in the men’s room slowly coming closer.
We enter the bathroom and I look at myself in the mirror. Face doesn't look pretty, but I have all my teeth. That’s good. I think my forehead got most of the blow. It reminds me of things I read about years ago about the brain, and how portions of brain can have different functions associated with them. Maybe knocking my head was my attempt to kick-start something.
“Alright Josh, I want you to keep awake, okay? It is important that you keep talking to me, do you understand?” she says like a concerned mother. There was a part of me that was filled with contempt at her familiarity, but I shut that down immediately and I realize that she is just trying to help. Maybe I do have a concussion.
“Yeah, sure,” I say, still a little out of it from all the vivid memories.
“How long has it been Josh, 3 years?” she says changing her tone a bit.
“I guess so.”
“We used to call each other every weekend, but then you got too busy.”
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay, I needed to concentrate on school anyways.”
“No, I mean, sorry about everything.”
“What do you mean?”
To be honest, I wasn't sure what I meant. I already had a headache from the fall, and things were not clearing up. There was something to apologize for. Maybe it was because I had spent so many years now trying to mentally block her image and memory, and I was not entirely sure why yet.
“For not calling, even though, you know, I was working for your father,” I say not entirely sure what is coming out of my mouth. Though the more I connect the dots, the more I realize that yeah, I did work for her father, but why didn't I contact her?
“Haha! I don’t blame you. My dad isn't too keen on me talking with guys. He is a good man, but he can never see me as another other than ‘his little girl.’ Also, that whole thing is supposed to be classified right? I mean, it is pretty obvious if you look for it, but you aren't really supposed to talk about it, right?”
“Well,” I hesitated, “they don’t really pay me now a days, though I think I am technically still working for them. Either way, I am not really worried”
“That’s good,” she says and awkward silence forwards. I need to go to the bathroom.
“Sorry, uh, I have to go,” I say as I shamble towards the stall.
“Oh no! I don’t mind! Please!” she says stumbling over herself to give her approval. She helps me in and I close the door and lock it.
I began to feel also awkward in the stall. Should I still say something? I am getting pee-shy here.
Then she breaks the silence, “So, you play in a band now?”
“No, it’s just a one time thing,” I respond
“Oh, because I really like Yami Gami”
“Who?”
“The band you were in. I heard their stuff online and it really resonated with me, you know?”
I didn't know, I didn't even know their name, “It was just a one time thing. They needed a drummer so I came in,” I lied.
“I never knew you played drums!”
“Well, you know,” I can’t think of anything clever, and I start to concentrate on trying to pee before anything else happens.
But, of course, I hear a loud noise, someone banging the door open. I hear a loud imposing voice yell, “We need Josh. Now.”
I hear Amelia try to cover for me, but I it is too late and I am staring up at a large man in a black suit staring down at me. Before I can figure out how the hell he opened the bathroom door I locked, he grabs me by the collar and stands me up.
“Put your pants on,” he orders me.
I would like to think that I would normally stand up to this kind of abuse, but instead I pulled my pants off and waved weakly to Amelia while the big man was dragging me.
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