18:45

18:45

A Story by Aimee Holt

I stepped back for the sound of metal on metal, the rush of air and red paint.  The 18:45 was two minutes behind schedule.  I had savoured those ticking moments and watched a couple of pigeons hassle one another along the platform.  His face swam into my work sodden mind and heat bloomed in my chest.  I shook my head slightly, willing the image to fade before stepping onto the carriage.  I sidled into the nearest seat and zipped my hoody up under my chin.  More seeking comfort than warmth.  I didn’t want this to be more than it was, but then what was it?  A small part of me felt embarrassed and panicked over coming face to face with him again.  I shot those thoughts down, willing myself to go with the rhythm of the train.  It wasn’t far to Hammersmith and I was glad to have company waiting at the doors.

                The walk from the station didn’t take long and soon we were there �" he was inside, in the same building and I wanted to turn and run.  “I shouldn’t be here!”  I whispered to Nat, stepping away from the queue of people.  “No, you should man, you have nothing to hide!  Shall we have a cig?”  I nodded and made my way to the smoking area.  Girls behind is in the queue tittered with excitement as they moved forward.  I heard his name as they swapped knowing smiles.  This is what I have avoided - I don’t want a man in the spotlight.  There was a quiet part of me that felt pleased at how close I had got to him.  I didn’t have to forget that �" it was an ego trip if I needed one.  Nat handed me a cigarette and we smoked in silence.

                “You ready to go in now?”  She made her way back to the queue as the last of them disappeared inside.  We handed over our tickets and stepped in.  I felt overwhelmed as we climbed the stairs and entered the room.  “Drink?”  I asked her and she nodded.  As we waited for our drinks I realised we would actually be in time to see the support act for once.  I didn’t know if this was torture having to wait for him but it was always good to hear new music.  I would be a couple of ciders in by then so my anxiety would be significantly muted.  The first band were a couple with a guitar and a flute.  They must have been together �" the looks they swapped were very knowing and their harmony was insane.  A few songs in and I could feel the easy hold of the alcohol settling and I started to enjoy myself.

  I could feel them, I had felt those eyes on me so many times before.  Nothing felt like those eyes boring into me.  A shook the chill from my back and slowly looked around.  He stood by the bar a couple of metres away.  He looked as good as I remembered as we locked a stare.  His long dark hair fell easily around his shoulders, framing his beautiful face.  I didn’t want another repeat of Belgium.  I couldn’t cope the first time when he had stood and stared before meeting my eyes, holding them and looking away.  He had repeated the action a few times over until he slipped through the stage door and left me.  Before I could stop it, a smile crept across my mouth and he carried on looking right into me.  His gaze was so intense with his dark, dark eyes.  A smile flickered his lips before he turned to his drink.  Okay well he could have been looking at anyone but I certainly wasn’t going to start gawping around like an obvious fool.  I willed myself to focus on the band again.  

Don’t fall into it again, he doesn’t want you, this is just a trap.  Soon enough I felt his eyes back on me.  It annoyed me now �" that wasn’t fair.  I couldn’t exactly go over to him and tell him to not look at me.  I hated the fact that he had managed to pull me in.  So many times I had seen him perform before with no bother.  I didn’t care �" I loved their music and how they managed to work the room but not this.  He had me acting like a love sick fan.  I was not this girl who gave her number to rock stars and waited for him to call.  He had never called.  He had never felt it.  And so he was a b*****d and he just wanted to play with my feelings.  

Don’t look at him again, he doesn’t deserve it.  I tried my hardest to pay attention to the band on stage but his gaze was so hot and unfaltering.  More cider down the hatch, get some balls and tell him where he can stick it.  Not over here and not with me.  No way, we were fooled once before but not this time.  Focus on the band, they were playing a cool song, focus on them.  Suddenly the heat was gone and I outwardly sighed.  Thank god, he obviously got the message.  Then I felt a hand on my arm, a big man hand.  Everything instantly calmed inside me and I looked up into the face of the owner.  “Anna.”  His voice soothed me but his eyes burned a fire.  “Hey.” That was all I could manage.  His hand still hadn’t left my arm and his other moved to the small of my back.  “I am so glad you are here!”  He squeezed my arm and dragged his hand across my back just like I had done to him in Truro.  I split my cider, the support band had finished and he was gone.  Just like before.

© 2015 Aimee Holt


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Added on October 5, 2015
Last Updated on October 5, 2015

Author

Aimee Holt
Aimee Holt

Surbiton, Surrey, United Kingdom



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