This is from Christian's POV.
~c~s~
I don't know who I am anymore. I'm not the same Christian Clarke I was before he touched my life. That Christian would have told everyone to go fuck themselves, laugh heartily and get on to the next bloke. There would have been some pain, but that pain would have stayed hidden and be easily forgotten with the right amount of alcohol and the prospect of the next good fuck.
I'm not the same man I was when I was with Syed. I think that man may have shrivelled up and died the moment Syed stood there and watched me leave. That Christian would have looked at this beautiful city with a light in his heart. He would have sniffed up the foreign scents eagerly, smiled at the sight of children playing games in the street, relished in the taste of a pretty bowl of pasta.
When I look in the mirror, a stranger looks back at me. His features are vaguely familiar, but the eyes seem to have no soul. It's painful to look at him. So I don't.
I spend my days walking the streets of Barcelona. I walk and walk, wandering around aimlessly. I don't know why I'm here. This might have been Stockholm, New York, Manchester, Dublin, Rome… Anywhere but London, anywhere but the East End, anywhere away from him…
I talk to no one. I utter a minimum of words to buy some bread, some wine, some cheese, but that's it. I've avoided the gay district since the first night. I don't want to go there, don't want to even think of going there.
As I look up, I notice I've found my way to Las Ramblas once again. I've ended up here every single day. As I start walking down the long street, the hustle and bustle comforts me. The energy of the place manages to sneak through the barriers of grey that surround me. This place reminds me that I am in fact still alive. As I reach the end of the street, I pick up my pace, already smelling the salty air of the sea.
The cold wind coming form the sea bites my skin, but I don't care. Watching the turmoil of the water brings me in touch with the turmoil that is going on beneath my own non-moving surface. I recognise the whirling, the crashing, the breaking of waves as the violent movements of my own emotions. I hate the dull mist that surrounds me, suppressing every feeling to nothingness. But I'm also scared of the day the mist will lift and my emotions will break free. I'm afraid of what they will do, of what I will do when that happens. When, not if. They are too turbulent and far too powerful to be kept down indefinitely. I'm afraid they will destroy anything in their path, including me. Or what's left of me…
~c~s~
Something feels different today. I don't know what, but something has changed. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and get up. As I make my way toward the shower, I examine my feelings to try and assert what has changed. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror I see physical proof of that change. The eyes. There's some life there after all. And emotion, a strong emotion, pushing its way toward the surface. I don't recognise it, but it's good to see some kind of emotion, any kind of emotion, there.
All day long I'm restless. I can't find any peace, not in the small narrow alleys, not in the quaint little coffee shop I stop at, not even when I find my usual spot watching over the sea. Everything annoys me. The noise of the traffic, the loud argument that woman is having with her tall friend, waiting in line at the bakery… Again I walk and walk and walk, my pace so quick it is almost a run. But the restlessness stays. As I round a corner, a sign giving directions to the zoo catches my eye. On a whim, I decide to check it out, but it doesn't take me long to realise I made a mistake coming here. I find the animals either boring, smelly or both, the children whiny and too noisy and the adults just get in my way.
Not able to think of anything else, I head back to the hotel and throw myself on the bed. I close my eyes and force myself to go to sleep. I want to cry in relieve as I feel the tug of darkness pulling me down.
When I open my eyes again, several hours later, the room around me is washed in darkness. I check the time on my phone. It's 1 AM. Now what? It's the middle of the night and I'm wide awake. I sigh and run a hand through my hair. There's only one place to go now, isn't there…
~c~s~
I hate this kind of music, but tonight it's just what I need. The heavy base vibrates through my body and is almost strong enough to make my teeth clatter. The angry thumping beat is loud enough to drown everything else out and allows me to move to it with the speed and angular movements that I need.
I wouldn't say I was dancing. This is not dancing. All I do is keep moving, never stand still. My eyes are closed as I try and become the beat, to only exist as part of the music. There's no one else here but me, not if I can't see them.
When I walked into the club, I saw several pairs of eyes whirl in my direction. I recognised the look of horny men smelling some fresh meat. I remember being one of those men once. They're out of luck tonight though. I have no interest in hooking up with any of them. Syed made sure of that. That thought had me heading straight to the bar.
After I downed a couple of beers I found myself in the middle of the dance floor and haven't left it since. But instead of finding some release, I feel the tension build up inside me like a storm about to become a hurricane. I've long since identified that flash of emotion I saw earlier as anger. This anger has been with me since I got up this morning and it is filling me up until I feel about ready to explode.
I'm angry at everyone and everything. I'm glare at the sun for hiding behind dark clouds and fume at the see for being calm and tranquil when I am anything but. I'm annoyed at the barman for not giving me another beer quick enough. I'm pissed off at that bloke that tried to corner me in the loos. But most of all I'm furious with Syed for making me feel this way. And at myself for letting him.
What the hell am I doing? Am I just going to leave him to it? Let him fool himself and everyone else into thinking that he can actually do this? Let him pretend I don't exist, we don't exist, while he plays happy families with his soon-to-be-wife? Let him…
My thoughts are rudely interrupted as a body smashes into me with force. My eyes fly open and before I know what I'm doing, I'm shoving a blonde curly haired man away from me and giving him an earful. I'm not sure if the bloke speaks any English, but the swearwords I'm throwing at him are international enough, so he should get the picture. It takes me a while to register the mumbled apologies and the trace of fear in the offending man's eyes. Instantly I feel disgusted with myself. He is not the one I'm mad at now is he... This is not his fault. I grind my teeth and force myself to calm down.
'I'm really sorry mate. I totally overreacted. Here, let me buy you a drink,' I offer.
The man looks at me apprehensively for a moment, but then accepts my offer and we head over to the bar.
Handing him a whiskey, I say: 'Look, I'm really sorry alright? Don't pay any attention to me, I'm just in a horrible mood. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that, this has nothing to do with you'.
'It's ok,' he says. 'Man trouble?'
I smile ruefully.
'Isn't it always?' I counter.
He chuckles and nods.
'I'm Bruno by the way. And you are…?' he asks, raising his eyebrow speculatively.
And there we are... In a place I've been so many times before. We'll have a chat, have a few drinks, both knowing that all we're doing is killing time until we can find somewhere more private and well… fuck. I find that I'm decidedly… not interested. I make my excuses and walk away.
Heading toward the hotel, I feel the anger surge up again, helped along by the fast amounts of alcohol I consumed tonight. Why am I hiding here like some coward? Why am I letting this wedding happen? It's December 30th, there's still time to stop this horrible joke of a wedding. What the hell am I still doing here? I storm up the hotel stairs, rush trough my room door and start throwing everything in my suitcase randomly. I'm going home.
~c~s~
By all rights, I should feel shattered. But I really don't. I haven't gotten any sleep since yesterday afternoon. I've spent half the night and part of the day slumped in an uncomfortable plastic airport chair, waiting for an available seat on a flight to London. I must have driven the old lady sitting next to me on the plane insane with my restlessness and the incessant drumming of my fingers. She was too polite to say anything though.
And now I'm here, in Walford, like I haven't been gone at all. I pay the cab driver, dump my bag and go looking for Syed. It's closing in on midnight and I want to, have to, find him before the start of the New Year. I look over at the Massood house. Normally I'd stay clear of that place, especially so close to the wedding, but I don't care. I have to find him, I have to find him now. Whenever I try and think beyond the part where I find him and try and think of what I'll actually do, I hit a blank wall. All I know is that I have to find him and then somehow knock some sense into him.
I walk over to the Massood house and am about to ring the bell, knock on the door or do whatever it takes to get him to come out, when I hear his voice out on the square. I turn around and see him handing a scarf to some random girl.
I can't get over how casual he looks. Like he hasn't just stomped all over my heart, like he's forgotten about me already. He's wearing jeans and his leather jacket. My heart tugs at the sight of him, which makes the anger boil up anew. Well fuck that! I'm not letting him ignore me, forget about me, get on with his life like I was never a part of it! He's the man I love and I refuse to give him up without a fight.
I wait to see him head over to Pat's house, where there's obviously a party going on. I give him a head start before following him in. I scan the crowd in the living room and see that he isn't there. I'm about to check the loos when I spot him through the open kitchen door.
All of a sudden I know exactly what I'm going to do. I walk in to the kitchen and grab onto his hand as I close the door behind me. Holding his hand, being close to him again, steels my determination. He looks up at me, wide eyed and startled, as I pull him into me and proceed to snog the life out of him.
~c~s~
To be continued…
Hope you ejoyed that :-) The next chapter will start where this one ended, but from Syed's POV. Reviews still very much welcome!
