𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡:🤬🌧️ 📢 Nyx
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The flight to London has been smooth and short. I couldn't actually tell how many times I've been there, from gigs to trips at my mother's house, but I know the city quite well. It's very different from Paris, but very similar at the same time. What has always captivated me are the contrasts between old and new, the jubilant and lively streets, the cosmopolitanism. And despite what some people would say, I've always found Londoners friendly. Perhaps I'm biased. Having the double nationality probably helps, when I think about it. But anyway, they're still more approachable than Parisians. That is a fact.
I pass the security controls, and manage to retrieve my luggage in a relatively short time.
Arriving at the terminal exit, I stop for a moment to take in the sight. The area is packed, noisy. People running to each other. They're reuniting. Hugging, laughing, crying.
It's quite interesting to see how much you can learn about someone by only observing them for a few seconds. How easily you can imagine what their life looks like. How easily you can be right. How easily you can be wrong.
Observing. Through the years, I've become a master in the domain.
Observe.
Feel.
Read through.
Analyze.
Draw conclusions.
But let space for uncertainties. Always give space to uncertainties. Because the outcome can always be different from what you had thought in the first place. People you believed to be good can be deceitful. And people you didn't really trust, can appear to be the most reliable ones.
A voice, familiar and warm, pulls me out of my psychological reverie.
"Nyx, girl !"
Pete. I catch sight of his silhouette among the crowd. He's shorter than his band mates, taller than me -which is actually, not complicated- and muscular. Years of practicing the drums have shaped his arms in a very athletic way, the contour of his muscles clearly visible despite his thick hoodie.
His light brown and short hair is slightly disheveled, as always. He waves at me, a radiant smile crossing his face.
I cannot turn around now.
I cannot back-pedal.
I cannot retreat.
Not anymore.
It's too late.
Deep breath.
I ignore the tugs in my chest and mind, and walk towards Pete, a small but sincere smile on my lips.
He hugs me tight, a bit too tight.
"God, Pete, you're crushing me !" I giggle, hugging him back.
"Oops, sorry girl, sorry. I'll be careful. I wouldn't want the fragile bough to break !" He winks playfully.
"Hey, I'm not a fragile bough ! But you, are a bloody tree trunk !"
He chuckles "The guys and I will take you hit the gym together someday, we'll turn you into a fucking Terminator in no time, you'll see !"
"I don't want to become a Terminator. Thanks but no thanks. And for your information, I do hit the gym !"
"Oh I know that. I can tell. You're definitely a Sarah Connor !"
We snicker lightly. It feels good to see him, to socialize a bit.
"Alright, give me these, and let's go meet the guys !" He takes my biggest bag and one of my two suitcases. "Holy cow, you packed for an entire year or what ?!"
I laugh and raise a playful eyebrow at him "A Terminator wouldn't even flinch you know. Who's the fragile bough now ?" He sighs loudly, amused and rolls his eyes.
"When it comes to traveling, I admit, I'm a real girl. And stage outfits are bulky. And heavy. So you'll have to deal with it, no choice !"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Diva ! Let's go find a cab that can actually contain all these bags and suitcases."
We head outside the airport. Finding an appropriate cab takes us approximately two minutes.
"See ? Not that complicated in the end !" I give Pete a little nudge as we sit in the car.
"That was pure luck."
"Nah, that was just the god of cabs taking pity on you." I wink and he chuckles softly.
The drive to the hotel is peaceful. Pete and I exchange a few words about the recent events in our respective lives -well, mostly in his, as mine has been pretty boring and empty these last few years- and he asks the question. The question I never really know the answer to.
"So... How are you ? Really, I mean ?"
The inside of the cab is barely lit. An advantage, so I can't really look him in the eye as I give him a dull reply and a fake smile.
"I'm alright."
"Alright is not a satisfying answer to me."He says softly.
"And yet that's the one I'm giving you." I reply as softly, avoiding his heavy and concerned gaze.
Mine lingers on the night sky, pitch black, stars-spotted. The moon is full, high. Mighty.
I've always been drawn to the moon. To the night.
Perhaps it's somehow related to my name, -Nyx was the goddess of the Night in the Greek mythology- but when the sun comes down and gives way to his sister moon, I feel safer.
As if the thin and silky veil of obscurity was keeping me sheltered and protected.
"Okay... I'm not going to push you any further. But know this..." He gently takes my hand and adds, his tone fond and calm "The guys and I have made it a personal mission : we want you to find the old you again. And we're going to do whatever we can to help you, okay ? We'll be there for you. Whatever you need. May it be a good laugh, a chill conversation or a deep one, an endless night at the bar or eight shoulders to lean on... We're here, okay ?"
I look at him. Or rather stare at him for what feels like an eternity to me but it's only a few seconds in reality.
His words.
They mean so much.
They mean everything.
They're what I need to hear.
They're fueling me.
I smile and murmur, squeezing his hand slightly.
"Thank you Pete. So much."
"No. Thank you." He simply murmurs back.
"You know... I have no idea how you managed to do this, but I feel like I already love the guys. And I haven't even met them yet !"
"And they already love you too. Got to warn you though, Jay might act weird around you at first, cause he's a huge fan of yours, like, huge. I swear when he talks about you, it sounds like he's talking about a goddess. A true worshiper ! Next step is probably him building you an altar or something !"
"Okaaaay that sounds weird now !" I giggle.
"Aha no, don't worry, we'll make sure to keep him in line !"
"And I'll keep him in line myself if I have to." I smirk.
"Oh I have absolutely no doubt ! I know you're basically gonna tame us all !"
"You can count on me for that !"
He chuckles and adds, in a more serious tone.
"You have to know that Vess is not doing really well right now. It's been a week or so. You know I've talked to you about how he's all gloomy sometimes. He shuts down from everything and everyone. Barely there when we talk to him. Same on stage. Well, I just want to warn you that he might be a bit difficult to approach. The guys and I talked to him today, and he seems a bit better, but we never know with Vess. So, yeah, just be aware, it may be a tad complicated."
I give him a soft nod.
I know too well how it feels. And hearing Pete talking about Vessel like that... It does something to me.
His struggle is echoing mine, even if the root is different. And it makes me want to help him, to show him how rich an flourishing life can be.
That's the irony, isn't it ?
Can I really be of any help to someone, if I'm barely keeping my own self afloat ?
When I think about it, I have everything -almost everything- to be happy, if we put the music aside.
And when my mind is occupied, focusing on something else, I feel lighter. Almost like the old me.
But these moments are rare, fleeting.
I hope that Pete is right.
I hope being among them, on stage, will help me.
I hope that somehow, they will manage to pull the strings in my mind, to pull stronger, tighter than He does. And that in the end, I'll be free. That I will be the only one pulling the strings.
I know that this is my chance.
The last one.
The last before my final descent.
So I have to take it.
Take this chance.
Because I don't want to descend.
Not again.
Not ever again.
"I'll do my best with him. If I'm going to be his backing singer, we have to get along. I'm sure we will. Don't worry about that, Pete."
"I know. I know you will." He smiles and points at the car window. "Here we are, that's the hotel."
The cab stops and the driver helps us unload the trunk. Pete tips him generously and we both head inside.
We cross the lobby, enter the lift, up to the last floor.
"Alright, they are all in Jay's room. We thought we could order some food and chill here for tonight, so you get to know the guys in a quiet and private place. Sounds good to you ?"
I stop and raise a playful, suspicious eyebrow at Pete. "You do realize that what you just said could be interpreted in two veeeeery different ways, right ? Get to know the guys ? Quiet and private place ?" I snicker.
"Yeah, yeah... you always manage to distort what I say. Always ! Jesus, you and Jay really have the same sense of humour... I swear, having the two of you in the same room is gonna be the worst." He sighs, shaking his head in false disbelief.
Once in front of Jay's room door, he looks at me, hand on the doorknob, with this joyous, almost child-like demeanor, one of the things I adore about him "Okay, okay. You ready ?"
Deep breath.
No turning back.
No back-pedaling.
No retreating.
It's too late, isn't it ?
Or perhaps it's not.
Perhaps I can go back home. Go back to my den.
And then what ?
I'll sit by the window, all curled up, lamenting and mourning what once was and what is no more.
I could do that.
I could choose the easy path.
The safest path.
The one He made for me.
An empty and straight highway. Sided by flat and dry landscapes. Boring. Meaningless.
Or I could choose the dangerous path.
The one I create myself.
A tortuous, unpaved way through an unknown jungle. Tricky, but lush and alluring. Meaningful. Liberating.
Deep breath.
Exhale.
Welcome to the jungle, Nyx.
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