AN: next chapter
I do not own or profit from The Walking Dead
Chapter 2
It was consumming her. The music was taking her to somewhere new. Carol could feel it. Through every inch of her body, into her fingertips. The sadness that flowed through the music was echoing in her soul. It had been the perfect choice for the audition, Michonne was right.
She could feel the momentum building, for the finale of her audition. The one move she'd been planning would make or break this audition for her. Carol wanted the part of Odette. She wanted it but maybe for all the wrong reasons.
She needed to be free, away from him. Daryl. The urge to run back to him was to strong. The urge to see him to much. The company would be touring with the production of Swan Lake. She would be on the road for a year. Maybe if she got away she would be able to breathe. It had always been her defence mechanism. Running away. Licking her wounds.
She finished with a flourish, the room was silent, a pin could have been heard dropping. She could hear her breathe stuttering through her chest and then the room erupted in applause.
Xxxxxxxxxxxx
She'd done it. Carol smiled into the collar of her coat. Michonne had offered to drive her home. Hell she wanted to go out and paint the town red and celebrate. But Carol needed to wrap her head around what had happened. She needed to breathe.
Michonne was a junior dancer, having been accepted to the company a few years after Carol. Juniors weren't eligible for the travelling shows. But she'd thrown all her energy into helping Carol prepare and choreograph her piece. She was practically vibrating with excitement for Carol, but all she wanted to do was call him, Daryl and share her news.
But she couldn't not anymore. It had been a month. It was time to move on. It was time to breathe. But it was hard. He hadn't called. He hadn't cared enough to call to see if she was ok. That's what hurt the most. She'd couldn't have misjudged him that badly. She'd felt his heart, his love even if he couldn't show it. Even if he didn't say it. She knew it was there. But how could he have moved on so quickly?
Merle was a social media whore as Daryl called it. Merle had added her on Instagram and she had yet to delete him, in some ways it was her last connection to Daryl. The last grasp she had not wanted to let go.
Merle had posted a picture three nights ago. The clubhouse had been having another wild party. Merle was goofing for the camera. Lifting his shirt to post a selfie of himself pulling his shirt up to show his stomach. That wasn't what had caught Carol's attention. What had was in the distance behind Merle's shoulder, she could clearly see Daryl, obviously inebriated with a woman sitting on his lap.
She'd blocked Merle. Sat staring off into space. Wondering at how Daryl could let some obvious clubhouse bunny so close to him. Carol knew what happened at those parties she'd been to a few. The Knight Angels MC had a large group of women who hung around the clubhouse like bunnies. One of the clubhouse girls had actually went into pretty big detail about their past escapades with Daryl. From what Carol had gathered, they had been all under the influence and all involved no unneccesary touching. The girl had been shocked to see Daryl with his hands all over Carol she'd blurted it out much to Carol's chagrin.
But it had made her surprised to know his affectionate nature was only for her. He was the most affectionate man she'd ever met, his hands always seemed to seek her out. Never caring if they had an audience. It seemed as though he wanted her as close as possible. He always had his arm tucked around her waist, or his hand in her hair, or touching her neck. He loved nothing more than to pull her on to his lap. Maybe that was why it had hurt so much to see that girl sitting there.
It had given her the motivation she needed for this audition. It had given her a new drive to let go.
So wrapped in her thoughts, as she walked home, Carol did not hear the footsteps behind her. The dance studio was in a bad part of town, at night it was dangerous to be walking alone. Daryl if he hadn't been able to pick her up, would always send someone to take her home no matter how much she protested she could walk to the bus stop. But he had always showed. The first night she'd walked out of the studio after the breakup, the overwhelming pain of finding no one there had caused a sob to wrack her throat. But she pulled herself together and walked on.
She was used to it now, but tonight was different. Tonight she felt unease creep through her. Tonight she was scared as the footsteps behind her kept in constant time.
She felt the rough texture of hands grab her, and the muzzle of a gun touching her neck as she was pulled into an alleyway.
