I don't own Night World, but I do own the storyline.
Jez and Morgead: SuperStar
Chapter 2
Jez POV
I fell asleep clutching the diary to my chest.
I had pleasant dreams, memories and pictures about me and Morgead. I recorded it in my diary as soon as I woke up, not wanting to forget it.
I packed slowly, dragging it out as much as possible. I cried when I put the photo album in.
I didn't want to leave.
Morgead deserved so much better than this. He deserved to have someone who knew him and who he could trust, not someone who would leave as soon as she had to, without a fight.
Maybe he would find someone, someday. That thought made me feel sick. I couldn't imagine him tied down to someone else. I'd always envisioned that we would be unmarried and best friends, so that we could always go on as we always had. It had been a selfish wish.
Uncle Bracken came in after a while when I was staring blankly out the window. I could still feel tears on my cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Jez," he said. He sat next to me on my bed and held me.
"Tell Morgead that I left to live... I don't know, but don't say Sacramento. I think it would be best if I didn't see him again."
Uncle Bracken pushed me away slightly. "Better for him, or better for you?" He looked at me seriously.
I looked away. It wasn't better for him, but I didn't want to see his expression, or hear his voice, or know his reaction in any way. It would break my heart if I knew it.
Uncle Bracken got up.
"Your aunt Nanami said that you can come over as soon as you like. Do you want to go in a couple of hours?"
I nodded, and he walked out the room.
I picked up my diary again and flicked through to a few weeks ago.
13th December 1998
Today was brilliant, again. I went round Morgead's early this morning (I had to wake him up, note to self, he looks cute when he's asleep!) and we just talked for a while, but being us, it turned into a battle. The challenge was who could play his piano the best. Needless to say, he won. As I knew he would. He's an incredible pianist. We played a duet after. That was quite difficult. Morgead can only play quickly; he doesn't have the patience to play slow, and I play slowly naturally. That probably means I'm more patient than him, which is good. At least I have one quality he doesn't!
We went to town afterwards, and into all our normal shops. The arts shop, because I needed a new canvas for Morgead's Christmas present, and then into the music shop, in which Morgead bought a book of Liszt's Nocturnes. He played a couple he already knew when we got back to his, which was fantastic. He tried to teach me one he said was 'easy'. Ha! The hardest thing I have ever played! I could do the first few bars (and the piano sounded like it was in pain when I played), and that was it.
When I got home, I started on the canvas. I was drawing a piano with Morgead and I playing it. It's coming on pretty well. I have all the basic shapes on in pencil, and I've started putting on the detail. I found a good hiding place for it, because Morgead is dedicated to find any presents I'm planning to give him in advance. He hates surprises!
Also, something strange keeps on happening. I've always thought about Morgead as a best friend, or a brother, never anything more. But my feelings have changed. I know he doesn't love me that way, but I think I'm in love with him. Every time he touches me to ruffle my hair, or hold my hand, I want more. What do you think, diary? You have been a faithful friend, as you can't talk. But I sometimes wish you could talk, as you know my deepest secrets. You could give me advice. There are things I keep from Morgead, like how my feelings have changed for him. I couldn't exactly go up to him and say something like 'Morgead, I'm in love with you.' He would probably laugh at me, thinking it was a joke, and then it might ruin what we already have. I don't think I could live through that. So I'll have to love him from a distance...
I snapped the book shut, crying anew. I'd forgotten that I'd written that, but I hadn't lost the feelings. I picked up the latest notebook and started writing an entry. Maybe writing would help get my thoughts in order.
23rd February 1999
The worst news, diary.
I have to leave. The money problems that I wrote to you about have gotten worse, and uncle Bracken says it would be best if I left to my mother's family, who live in Sacramento. I had to just agree.
The worst thing is leaving Morgead behind, obviously. I love him, but I'm scared to tell him that I'm leaving. I'm scared to know his reaction. That may be selfish, but the best of us loose bravery. I'm ashamed that it had to happen concerning Morgead.
He loves me like I'm his sister. He has only me as family, and he's going to loose me.
I hate myself for that.
I stopped, not able to write any more. All it had done was make me cry harder. I put my notebooks in the suitcase, and went downstairs to pack my music books.
They were all given to me by Morgead. He always passed books down to me or bought me some, then helped me learn them all. My favourite composer was Liszt. He may have written impossibly difficult songs, but they were all beautiful. I handled all the books gently, and placed them in my bag. Maybe aunt Nan would have a piano, but even if she didn't, I would want to keep them. Every single note held a memory of happy hours spent with Morgead, watching his hands fly across the keyboard, or playing myself, and Morgead helping me improve. I didn't want to loose those memories.
They would be all I had.
Morgead POV
I woke up, and the first thing I saw was the painting that Jez done for me for Christmas.
It was a beautifully painted piece of art. It portrayed us sitting at the piano. She'd done it perfectly realistic; the only thing she could have improved it was painting herself as beautiful as she really was. The painting Jez was nowhere near as beautiful as the real Jez. But it was still among one of my favourite belongings.
I got up and touched the painting, smiling. I couldn't wait to see Jez today, to hear her laugh, see her smile. My heart beat slightly faster every time she smiled. It was such a beautiful thing.
I saw the photo that I had left on the piano and picked it up, then placed it gently into its box, which I had left on the floor next to the bed. I pushed it under my bed, and sat back on my bed, just looking at the painting, my eyes lingering mostly on her face.
After a few minutes, I got dressed. I was planning to go see Jez this afternoon; she liked sleeping late, unless it was her birthday (which I had reason to know, she always came round to mine at about seven in the morning to wake me up; she was like a child on her birthday!).
I sat again at my piano; it was a sure-fire way to let the time pass quickly without Jez.
The time did pass quickly, thankfully, and I was able to start walking to Jez's house at two. I walked the ever-familiar path to her house, my mood lifting as it did every time I walked to meet Jez. I was smiling by the time I knocked on the door.
And waited.
She didn't answer.
I frowned and stepped back. The windows were all dark. Why hadn't I noticed?
"Jez? Bracken?" I shouted. I knocked on the door again.
I went to the window that looked into the garage.
Their car wasn't there.
The day darkened instantly. I knew even music couldn't brighten it up.
I contemplated spending a whole day without Jez. I had done that several times before, but the day had always been dull, cold and devoid of life. I started walking back. The sun had gone in behind the clouds.
Ah, I thought. The sun behind the clouds. The irony...
I let myself into my apartment and made for my mobile. I would text Jez.
Hi J, I went to ur house bt u wernt ther. R u alrite? M xxx, I texted.
I waited for Jez to answer.
She didn't.