@snbeams
He’s hanging around by the stage door--- god knows he’s hung around enough during his time, and James feels a strange disconnect watching the roadies load up the gear, knowing that he’s not the one on tour this time. It’s been a while since he disappeared without a trace to New York, without telling anyone, not even Holly. But when he’d seen the poster for her show, he figured he could get away with hanging around in the back. James couldn’t stand the thought of meeting her again; she reminded him too much of his past mistakes, his guilt, but he wanted to see her. In a strange sort of way, he was proud of her, and how far she’d come. Without him. James lights up his new cigarette with the smoldering remains of the previous one. He has no intention of talking to Holly, but for some strange reason, he’s desperate for another glimpse of her, because he hasn’t realized how much he’s missed her until this very moment. She’s the last link to the past he’s sought so desperately to leave behind, but for whatever reason, he can’t leave her behind too. It would’ve been fine--- he’d see her get on the bus and then he’d leave and continue with his pathetic excuse of a life, until--- Hey, you got a light? He freezes, his face still hidden in the darkness, but it’s clear his cover has been blown. James takes a step forward into the light, his Zippo extended, half-feeling like a condemned man as he faces Holly for the first time in years. ❝ Um--- hi. ❞