It was New Years Eve. Everyone else in her magazine office was
gone already but Melissa was still at her desk, trying to put the finishing
touches on her fashion column before it went to print, and the only one to hear
the radio show on the station she hadn't put it on. The topic the two presenters
were fixated on was, of course, New Years Eve. In between playing the British Top 40 song
requests, 'Steve and Anne' were asking people who called in what would be their
ideal way to spend this New Years. Forget the plans they already had, what did
they really want to do to celebrate.
Melissa looked up at the radio in the middle of the bank of desks, over her
reading glasses, and grimaced. She doubted any of the radio listeners' New Years
plans included being stuck in the office until ... she checked the watch on her
left and rubbed her eyes as she groaned. It was past eleven o'clock, this was
just plain ridiculous. When she'd called her boyfriend, Jon, she'd told him
she'd only be an extra hour and she'd make it up to him with the best New Years dinner when she got back. That was three hours ago.
She'd best hurry up with her column and get home at least before midnight.
~
Brandon was in Sussex, stuck in one of the worst New Years
Eve parties he'd ever attended, when someone changed the radio station to find a
good New Year countdown and the radio program 'Steve and Annie' hosted came on.
After listening, he rolled his eyes and brought his bottle of beer up to his
lips for another swig. The people calling in to answer 'What do you really want
to be doing this New Years Eve?' were all whining and bitching. It was pissing
him off.
What did they honestly have to complain about? He was willing to bet they all
had a perfectly fine home, job and family. Yet they were phoning into a radio
station to whinge to two strangers about how much pressure the new year would
bring. Others were complaining about how they didn't get invited to that party
they wanted to attend, or how they had to stay at home and take care of the kids
instead of really celebrating or how they wouldn't get to be with the person
they wanted to be with when Big Ben struck midnight.
Brandon groaned as he thought about their complaints and how he was only angry
because, if he were desperate enough to call in, his complaints would be
painfully similar. He'd been invited to many parties; all of them held by some
celebrity or another; but the one he ended up in wasn't where he wanted to be.
He hadn't any kids; he didn't even have a girlfriend anymore; but he'd come out
to be with his friends, and band mates, instead of being in bed at home, asleep
before midnight. And, lastly, he wasn't with the person he wanted to be with.
She'd left him nearly two years ago and he still missed her. They'd had no
contact with eachother ever since she'd ran, so seeing her; no touching or
talking or fucking, just seeing her; at midnight would be the perfect
start to his new year.
But he knew that would be impossible so he downed the rest of his beer and
reached for his fifth.
~
Melissa and Jon's apartment was in the heart of London but, even
so, when Melissa left her office to quickly make it home, the streets were only
half as busy as they usually were at any given time. She'd stopped at a local
all-hours store and brought a fairly inexpensive bottle of champagne and a
limited edition box of one hundred condoms to present to Jon, hoping he'd
forgive how late she was.
When she walked into the apartment, there were no lights in the kitchen, lounge
or dining rooms. However, on the table, there was a floral arrangement and two
dozen alight candles. Melissa put the champagne down on the table and stared at
it all, feeling incredibly guilty as doing something like this was definitely
not like Jon. My God, he's probably so angry with me.
After quickly checking for signs of her boyfriend in the
bathroom as she passed, she continued into their bedroom. The door was slightly
ajar and, when she pushed it open, what she saw was something she'd never
expected from Jon and something she'd never wanted to find again. The memory of
finding Brandon Flowers cheating on her in a hotel room in New York with his
ex-girlfriend, Francine, flashed before her. In similar positions; in her bed
this time, instead of a hotel couch; Jon was naked and atop some platinum blond
woman. They were both tangled in the sheets and he was still pumping away as she
moaned and writhed beneath him.
The candles, flowers and dinner hadn't been for her. It had been
for this bottle blond bitch. Yet again, the man she was with was not the man she
thought he was. He was full of surprises and it turns out he wasn't who she
thought he was.
Slowly, the grip she'd had on the box of condoms loosened and
the box dropped to the ground. It made a loud thud upon its landing and Jon
ceased movement. Still braced by his arms on either side of the stranger's head
and obviously still inside of her, he looked over his shoulder. When he saw it
was Melissa, he started shouting but she was already turning and walking out of
her room. What he was saying she heard but would not let sink in. It pounded
into her head over and over again but they were just words. They didn't mean
anything to her, just like he didn't anymore.
Jon pulled out of the woman, Katherin, and stumbled out of bed quickly and
awkwardly, tripping in sheets. As he pulled on his boxers, Katherin was shrieking
at him but he ignored her and ran after Melissa. He caught up to her and tried
to grab her elbow but she spun around, gripping the champagne bottle around its
neck and holding it high. He tried to reason with her but she just screamed
incoherently over the top of him. Finally, fed up with all his bullshit, she
flung the bottle in his direction. It hit the wall beside his head and shards of
glass flew everywhere as Melissa took the opportunity to run out of the
apartment door.
As soon as the door slammed shut at her back, the tears started to well up in
her eyes. It was worse this time. This wasn't a relationship brought about
through hate, like hers and Brandon's. She had actually thought Jon was a good
guy.
When she heard Jon's voice coming closer from the otherside of
the door, she moved out further into the street and turned to yell obscenities
at him. When she turned again, she saw the oncoming truck but it was too late.
Greg, the truck driver was too slow to hit on the brakes and Melissa was slammed
into at forty miles an hour.
It's hard to say that I was wrong
It's hard to say I miss you
Since you've been gone, it's not the same
My worries weigh the world, how I used to be
And everything, I'm cold, seems a plague in me
And it's hard to say how I feel today
For years gone by and I cried
->
