Chapter 9

The bus slowly rolled to a halt, causing Becca to look up through the tinted glass at the building which they had come to rest outside of. The Hotel Burlington. She wasn't sure whether it was the tint of the windows, but the towering hotel looked cold and ominous. This was further emphasized by the sizable grey clouds which loomed overhead threatening to drop their heavy load at any time, and the fact that the hotel must have been at least a century old.

Becca's emotions had always been highly dependant upon the weather. When it was sunny, or clear she felt at ease, but when the sky became overcast her mood automatically worsened, and she became depressed. Her nerves about what was to come the following evening did nothing to help her state of mind, as she ground her teeth anxiously.

She had managed to block out the rowdy noise of McFly who she had travelled with, and had fallen into an almost trancelike state, staring blankly out of the window as the journey had progressed. The only thing which she was fully aware of was Dougie's hand resting in hers, as it had been throughout the journey; the sole thing keeping her from sinking into her own thoughts and fears.

As she looked out at the bleak sight that greeted her she suddenly became aware of her hand being gripped more tightly. The noise within the tour bus greeted Becca's ears for seemingly the first time, as if her trance had been lifted. Dougie was looking at her with a worried expression on his face.

"Are you alright?" he said with a concerned look on his face, "You haven't said a word the whole journey. I was talking at first but it was like you couldn't hear me so I gave up."

"Oh I'm sorry Dougie! I guess I was just thinking. I do that sometimes. I blank everything out."

"And you're sure you're okay?" he asked again, looking doubtful.

"Yes I'm sure. I just wish we were a bit closer to the sea." Her smile seemed to confirm to Dougie that she was okay, for which Becca felt a pang of guilt inside of her. She had never lied to Dougie before in the whole months and half that they had known each other. Not once had she so much as tod a white lie to him. There seemed no need when she felt so close to him, and knew that she had his support. As the month had ticked away, however, her feelings of fear and apprehension had returned, all of which culminated in her current state of mind.

They rose to their feet, and followed in the wake of the rest of the guys, who were now standing outside stretching after the long journey. Their bags were already being unloaded, and were being taken to their room by two porters who walked silently to and from the bags with grim expressions shadowing their faces.

As Becca got off of the bus she got her first proper look at the hotel, without the tinted windows hindering the view. Despite the fact that the hotel no longer looked so dark, it still retained its ominous feel, a fact which was no doubt further exaggerated due to the seemingly robotic staff, with their grey uniforms, and cold demeanours.

Fletch stood on the steps which lay before the front door of the hotel and began in vain to catch the attention of those who stood below him chatting, or looking at their surroundings.

"GUYS!" shouted Harry to the rest of the band and crew. "OI! LISTEN UP! We wanna get in before it starts pissing it down right? So fucking listen!"

"Thank you Harry" said Fletch as he looked up at the sky from which the first few droplets of rain had begun to fall. "Right. When we get inside I want you to keep the mucking about to a

minimum please. We've had a long journey, and I expect you're all very tired. As you go in go to the front desk and tell the receptionist your name and se will give you the key to your room. Right. Let's get in."

Dougie clasped Becca's hand again as they walked up the stone steps and into the dark entrance hall of the Burlington. Upon the floors there was a dark, and old looking carpet, and dark green leather sofas aligned the walls.

"It smells like church in here!" Dougie whispered into Becca's ear as they approached the front desk.

"Yes please. Name please." Said the receptionist in an Eastern European accent.

"Dougie Poynter."

"Zis is your key. You are in room 342. Your bags vill be vaiting for you."

"Thanks." Dougie said as he took the key from her outstretched hand. "Let's go and find this room. I'm so tired!"

They walked out of the entrance hall and into a large square foyer which had the stairs on one side, and the restaurant on the other. The stairs, which were carpeted this time in a lighter shade of green, with an odd flower pattern, creaked noisily underfoot. They climbed ever higher until they reached rooms in the 300s. After much searching, they managed to find their room.

The room was large, and spacious, although a great deal more dated than the one which the boys had stayed at in Colchester. Dougie sat down heavily on the bed kicking off his shoes. He lay back and closed his eyes.

"Dougie...can I talk to you for a minute?" Becca said quietly

She received no answer other than the heavy breathing of her boyfriend who had drifted off into a deep sleep. She sighed deeply to herself and sat down on one of the chairs which stood next to the window, which overlooked a small part of the sea. By now the clouds had turned an even darker shade of grey, causing Becca's worries to increase tenfold. A million thought were flying through her head as she stared out at the sea, through the rain soaked window pain. I have to do it...I've promised...but I can't! It's too much. This place...just...doesn't seem right...it feels so strange. And Dougie...didn't even listen to me! Surely if he loved me he would listen? A tear spilled from her eye and rolled rapidly unchecked down her face splashing on the windowsill below. I can't. I just can't. Becca felt as though all of the air was being pushed from her lungs, as she found it increasingly difficult to draw breath.

She had to get out. She had to.

Dougie woke with a start. He blinked a few times trying desperately to become accustomed to the dull light. A gap in the curtains showed him that is was almost dawn, as the horizon seemed to glow eerily.

He turned over and rested his arm on Becca's side of the bed, but it was undisturbed. The sheets on her side lay pristine and untouched. Dougie got up and wandered into the bathroom, whose light was turned on. Becca, however, was nowhere to be seen. Out of the corner of his eye Dougie noticed a piece of paper which lay on his bedside cabinet. As he drew nearer he recognised Becca's handwriting. The black ink on the page was smudged with tears, but the words were still legible.

I'm sorry. I tried, but I just can't do it. I feel like everything is going too fast. I'm in over my head. I'm sorry.

Dougie's head was spinning. "What did she mean?" he thought frantically, "Was it the concert, or is she talking about us?"


Author's note; If you enjoyed it, then please let me know. There are now only four chapters remaining!