Romeo & Juliet - The Killers (PART 2)

Continued...

January emerged from the festive cheer of Christmas bringing with it a snowy New Year. There had been postal delays for a few days now as Royal Mail workers tried to shift the holiday backlog.

Term started again for Will, who was in his final year of college. He put his iPod headphones in his ears, locked his flat behind him and headed off to a day filled with studying and composing for his upcoming Music practical �" he was still pursuing his dream.

‘Oh sorry,’ he had just walked into the postman who was busy checking his bag for mail.

‘No worries, here’s your mail.’  A letter was pressed to his hand; he recognised the writing on the front. It was from Gemma. He thanked the man and carried on his way.

 

Will walked into his form room grinning to himself.

‘Why’re you so happy? It’s bloody freezing!’ Jim, his fellow White Wolf, the only one in his form, was huddled against the radiator in a cool, but thin, leather jacket.

‘This is why you dress properly J,’ laughed Will as he shrugged off his thick woollen coat. His letter from Gemma was still in his hand. He read through it again as he sat down on his desk.

Gemma had been signed! She told him in her letter of an audition, for Doctor Who, as a small-part. She got it and after they’d finished filming a man in a crisp cut suit approached her and asked if she had an agent. The man’s name was Phillip Golding. He was now her agent, and he had secured her a semi-professional part in a BBC drama. Her dream was coming true, just as he’d hoped!

‘Oh, Gemma eh?’ Jim had snuck around Will and was reading the letter over his shoulder. ‘Still going strong I see.’ He winked at Will and headed back to the radiator now that his curiosity was appeased.

The one small disappointment that Will felt when he read the letter was at the end.

            

Lots of love, Gemma

    P.S. Filming starts in January, so I might not be able to write as often, but I’ll still think of you! Love you!

 

Two months passed, no reply to his answering letter. He wrote another one, asking how filming was going. No reply.

Six months passed, still nothing. Will had tried ringing her, but the phone rang to voice mail. He watched the Doctor Who episode and felt a burst of pride when he spotted her on his TV, it was quickly quelled by his sadness at not having heard from her in so long. He decided to ring her again, or try to at least, and wish her congratulations at being on screen.

Hope swelled in his heart when the phone picked up, an unfamiliar voice answered.

‘Hello?’ It definitely wasn’t Gemma’s.

‘Hi, um, is Gemma there please?’

‘There isn’t a Gemma here, I think you’ve got the wrong number.’

‘No, I know I haven’t. She used to answer this number.’

‘Did she have red hair?’

‘Yes!’

‘She must have been the woman who sold us this flat, I’m sorry, I don’t have a contact number for her.’

Will thanked the voice and sat back on the sofa. Why hadn’t she told him she was moving, she had his mobile number and he had hers, but her mobile hadn’t picked up in a long time too. They had each other’s emails. She didn’t see the point in Facebook so she didn’t have one. Anger flickered like a flame inside him but was soon lost as he became engrossed in a drama on screen.

Will fell asleep on the sofa, her letter on the table in front of him, the television blaring adverts to his unconscious ears.

 

“And I dream your dream for you and now your dream is real

How can you look at me, as if I was just another one of your deals?”

Author's Note

Thoughts?