6 Months Later
He was happy it was over. When he finally sang his last song in Paris, all he could feel was the relief and excitement of the entire experience. He couldn't believe that this was real. Through out his entire time in Europe, he expected to wake up and find himself at home, with nothing to look forward to (except for her, but that was a topic he tried to avoid). But it wasn't a dream, and he was grateful he wouldn't have to feel the adrenaline of over a thousand eyes on him for a while.
Still, part of him didn't want to leave. As much as it pained him to believe, Emily didn't want to be with him anymore (despite the fact he did everything she would have wanted him to) and he didn't know if he could go back to Boulder knowing that there was a chance he could see her.
He thought about this on his plane ride to the Denver International Airport. He considered finding a place away from Boulder to stay, but he would still have to get his possessions at his apartment, and even that could cause problems. What would Emily do when she found out he came back and didn't tell her? Nothing, probably, but he didn't want her to think that he didn't care about her. He remembered when he was in jail and how crazily she acted. However, they were dating then, and now they... what were they now?
Damon thought he should at least call her. Let her know that he was back in town, even though she would probably disregard it. But what would he do if he heard her voice again. Could he take it if she did ignore him? He wasn't sure if he could. It was a risk he was willing to take. They never did say that they were breaking up (sure she said to never talk to her or contact her, but she never did say they were over). However she never answered his note he left her, which made him wonder if she even got it. Maybe not giving him an answer was an answer.
The plane was preparing to land and he tried to bring himself back to reality. He finally sang his songs and a few recording studios approached him while he was on the tour. Even without Emily, he had a future to look forward to. Maybe if she did reject him, he could at least put his heart and soul into his music. Like what he was supposed to do in the first place.
The plane landed a little too soon for his likings and the minute they approached the terminal, adults and teenagers alike whipped out their phones and turned them on, texting and calling back their friend and family. Damon pulled out his phone and held it in his hand. Staring at the blank screen, he held onto the power button until the screen went aglow.
He received a few calls from his friends and old band mates, no doubt wondering when he was coming back. No call from Emily though. He knew she wouldn't have called. She needs to be focused on her gymnastics, and he's a distraction (her words, not his).
They eased to a halt, and people immediately began to file out. Damon eyed the men, women, and children, that passed him, until he managed to find a spot in line and joined the crowd to the door in the front of the plane. Once he was free of the airtight vehicle, he moved up the terminal, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket and blindly staring in front of him.
For a moment he imagined what life would be like if he ever started recording his songs professionally. Would there actually be someone waiting for him when he came home, instead of the emptiness he had now. Fans, friends, maybe even...
He shook her out of his head once again and followed the people from his flight to the baggage claim. He noted his guitar, lying precariously under the sign that read "Oversized Items". When he first began the tour and the baggage clerk forced him to put his instrument in the oversized items. As he looked back at the memory, he had to admit that he was a little rude to her. He tried to ignore the pang in his stomach as his bag came to him in record timing. He swiped it off of the carousel then took his guitar. Stepping out into the bitter Colorado winter, he flagged down a cab.
He forced himself to smile at the cabdriver as he pulled up next to him. If he was going to be in the car with this man for the next thirty five minutes, might as well be cordial with him. The driver slid out of his seat to see if Damon needed help getting his bag in the trunk, but in one swift movement, his suitcase was in the back and his guitar was stowed away safely in the back seat. Shocked by his speed, the driver slid back into the front seat with Damon following suit.
"Where are you headed, sir?" he asked.
"Boulder, 120 Concord Avenue." Damon glanced at the dashboard to catch his driver's name. Alexander Keys.
"Boulder? That's quite a ways." He knew what that meant. He was not going to give him any exceptions for fare. He simply nodded in response and Alexander took the hint to begin his laborious drive.
He stared out the window and to the surrounding mountains. He surprisingly missed his hometown while he was away. Not once did he think that he would actually long for the bipolar weathering of his home, but he did. Or maybe, he only missed what Boulder represented.
The beginning of his dreams, his friends, his band, Emily...
His hand unconsciously went to his phone in his pants pocket. Pulling it out slowly, he glared at the blank screen. If he were to call her, now would be the ideal time, because when he got home, there was no guarantee that he wouldn't chicken out at the last minute. His eyes clenched shut and he quickly dialed the familiar numbers into the keypad.
"You don't mind if I make a call right?" Alexander looked at Damon through the rear-view mirror and nodded. Painstakingly slow, he pressed the call button and put his phone to his ear.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.
This is Emily. Sorry I missed your call, but if you leave a message, I'll call you back. Thanks.
Damon went rigid when he heard her voice through the phone, so much so that he hardly heard the soft beep in the background. After pulling himself together, he began his message.
"Hey Emily. I know you didn't want me to call or anything..." He took in a deep breath then settled back in his seat. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm done with my tour and... I don't know why I called you, but can you please call me back. Thanks." He hung up then hid his face from Alexander. He knew that she wasn't going to answer, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less.
Get a hold of yourself Damon, he told himself. You survived without her once, you can do it again. He groaned then rested his hand against the window. Emily's just a first love, he told himself. I can get over her. Only, he didn't want to.
He glanced at the clock. 11:14 P.M. Maybe I should call her home phone, he thought. She had to be home by then. Unless she was at the Rock for something, or sleeping at a friend's house. Still, Mrs. Kmetko or Brian would answer, wouldn't they? He picked up the phone and considered calling her again, but quickly decided against it. It was her choice to stop talking and it had to be her choice to start again.
He stared at his phone, anxious for the rest of the drive home. It didn't help that there was a horrible accident on the highway, making his drive home monotonous and excruciatingly long. Still, he couldn't get her out of his mind. More than anything he just wanted to say goodbye, at least so it would be official. He never wanted to keep her from her dream, and if it was his fault she didn't make it, he would never forgive himself.
Finally, they pulled into his apartment complex and Damon pulled out a few bills to pay Alexander. He slid out of the car and embraced the familiar surroundings. Sighing into the dark night, he pulled his guitar and suitcase from the car and checked if he had his phone before waving away the cab driver.
He forced himself inside his home and tossed his bag against the wall. It landed with a thump and he grudgingly put his phone on the table. After putting down his guitar, he took a long hot shower to welcome himself home.
Unfortunately, he was oblivious to the soft vibration that radiated from his phone. A small picture of Emily Kmetko appeared on his screen and after a few more silent rings, it went to voice mail.
Hey Damon, it's Emily... I'm glad you called...
A.N. I realize this is not the most satisfying way to end a oneshot, but I figure it'd be best to end it on a realistic note, because I think Damon and Emily's relationship is more real than some of the others. Still, review to let me know if it's good or not.
*Finz*