Page 71 of Hey Girl
Hey guys!
This tour of the UK warrants a special treat, I think. So I thought I’d post a short little video clip every day that we’re here.
Smiling to myself, I click on the first video, which seems to be a montage of their Dublin show. I get a small dose of endorphins from the flashing lights and the crashing beats, as it takes me back to being backstage at the St. Michelle. There’s a quick flash of Chris, and I feel my heart rate spike. It’s so quick I can’t gauge his facial expression. I can only see his biceps flexing hard as he brings his sticks crashing down. When the clip finishes, I chance a look at a couple of the comments.
Is Rebecca on that tour with you guys? I hope she and Chris are doing okay after that Tatiana garbage.
While my stomach drops at the T-word, I get a slight flutter at the rest of the comment. It’s a thrill to see someone wanting to know about Chris and me, that maybe they’re rooting for us like they do Jack and Mayzie. Trying not to get too carried away by that idea, I scroll up to the next entry.
In the next video, there’re more shots of Chris. My heart both soars and sinks when I see him being his lunatic self behind the kit; sticking his tongue out. He’s happy, doing what he loves. But I’m hit with the prospect that maybe Maybe I didn’t leave behind the same void in his life as he did mine. It makes sense. He’s stronger than I am and can shake off relationships better than I can.
But wait… what’s that?
I play the clip back and hit pause. There’s a back view of Chris as he’s walking out to take his place on stage, wearing a bright pink t-shirt and the black lettering across the shoulders jumps out at me.
Hey Girl, it reads.
I squint to read the smaller words below it.
Hey girl, You turn me on with those sexy specs.
I giggle at the take on those Ryan Gosling memes I like… and the song Chris wrote me.
Did he…? Sexy specs—did he wear that for me?
Don’t get your hopes up Rebecca, you’re just heartsick right now. Even so, I take a look at the comments below this one.
That shirt is sooo a tribute to Rebecca!
That traitorous butterfly beats its wings in my ribcage again when I realize I’m not the only one who noticed. And despite myself, I let myself fall down the rabbit hole, just a little bit.
The next video shows all the guys but with another shot of Chris, in another black and pink t-shirt but clearly not the sameone. It’s a Hey Girl shirt, but a different saying. And so is the video after that.
Hey girl, we don’t have to talk to have a good time.
Hey girl, loving you is a better rush than bungee jumping.
Hey girl, WANNA BANG on my kit?
Okay, that one has to be about me, and the next one shows him pointing at the camera with his drumstick with a wink. Pointing at each other is our thing.
Oh my God, he still loves me. He’s thinking about me! Just like I’m thinking about him! Because I love him too.
I miss him so much! I miss the excitement and the bliss that came with being with him. I want that back in my life. I want to trip all over my words from passion and exhilaration. I want to feel ecstatic and terrified at the same time, because it feels alive! Chris makes me feel alive! That’s the life I want! I want him!
And I can’t wait! I want to go be with him now and tell him I’m a moron for needing time away from him. I’m a stupid numbskull idiot and I’ll never leave his side again - except for some tours, maybe, but in those cases I’ll send him naughty photos, Titiana be damned.
Reaching for my phone, I fire off a quick text to Mayzie before dialing one of my new favorite numbers.
“Enrique!” I squeak when he picks up. “Buff and fluff time!”
“Oh my God, I’m so happy!”
24
REBECCA
Iswitch the microphone in my hand on, and it makes a poignant hum with feedback. Jack turns to face the techs backstage behind me, giving them the down signal, pointing towards the floor with a shake of his hand. When the tone evens out, he gives me a nod. It’s all me. My heart gives a good thrash behind my chest wall, threatening to throw a tantrum until I cut it off, setting my mind to it.