Three years after the end of The Great Divide

CHRISSIE

It is a cold winter morning when I close my dorm room door and I walk out to Johnathan waiting for me at the curb. I do not pay attention to my course through the building. I have walked this same route so many times before, I could do it now with my eyes closed.

Three years ago, Johnathan and I applied at NYU together, and we were happy when they accepted us both. I live in Manhattan’s vibrant Greenwich Village neighbourhood, which is home to many of the university campus buildings, and I have a room in one of the residential complexes in Washington Square. My dad insisted I live here instead of an apartment because living here would complement my academic career. Sometimes I wonder whether he is more concerned with my emotional happiness or my academic achievements.

New York City is a vibrant and culturally rich city, and coming to New York has widened my horizons, has made my world larger. It is unbelievable though how you could walk in a city of millions upon millions of people and still feel all alone. Sometimes I would walk down the road and then I would stop abruptly. I would turn around and stare because I thought I saw Vincent from the corner of my eye, but it was never him—it was always only a stranger.

I see interracial couples in the city – not many – and I must admit at first, I frowned upon them. I am not sure if it was because of how my parents, in particular, my father, indoctrinated me from when I was just a little girl or if it was because it reminded me of Vincent, as well as my meekness when it came to standing up to my father.

Vincent has moved on. Now and again, I will read something about him in the tabloids and his romantic exploits make the juiciest news. I often wondered, sarcastically amused, what his father thought of all of this. His son the famous pop star is taking the world by storm and having a white girlfriend more often than not. Vincent would openly kiss them in the full glare of the bulb lights flashing like strobe lights around his every move. I heard their songs on the radio, and when I did, I would always grin nostalgically.

I notice Johnathan where he is leaning against his car, as soon as I walk through the large doors at the entrance of the residential building. His radiant smile brings me back from my recollections of a time ages ago, and I smile with him. It is not often the boy a girl has a crush on, becomes the guy she embarks with on her path into the future.

When I reach him, I automatically lean into him and I kiss him lightly on his lips.

“Good Morning, gorgeous,” he says cheerily.

“Good Morning.” I smile while he walks around the car to the driver side.

He gets into the car and then he leans over to my side. As he pulls the lever from the inside, I open the door.

I get into the car, and I say, “It is seriously cold this morning.” I push my gloved hands under my legs and feel a shiver run down my back.

Softly from the stereo, I hear Vincent’s voice, and I feel a reflective melancholy. I suddenly find it funny how I was just thinking of him and now I hear his voice.

The song he is singing is sad and I do not want to flatter myself or imagine the words are about me, but the lyrics repeat over and over again, that I am the only thing he thinks of every night. I am, however, sure I am not the one who keeps him awake at night.

Johnathan interrupts my thoughts, “You seem very preoccupied today.”

I smile. “Memories. I am remembering school and how way back then things seemed so much simpler.”

“In another couple of years, university will also seem simple.”

We stop at a red light, and he leans across me, opening the glove compartment. He pulls a red envelope from the dark recess.

With a pleased smile, he hands the envelope to me.

The light turns and the traffic start to move forward again. I hold the envelope in my hand, looking at him questioningly.

He says excited, “I thought I would surprise you, and once you see what it is, you will think it’s funny you were nostalgic today.” I hesitate and he insists, “Open it.”

I look at him as I pull the flap of the envelope open. Inside the envelope, I see two concert tickets and with trepidation, suddenly knowing for which concert it is, I pull them out of the envelope.

Johnathan beams. “Surprise!” He says excited, while I read the ticket stubs.

The tickets are for the ÉLastique concert tonight.

I say, feeling anxiety pushing its way from my stomach into my chest, “I thought the concert was sold out?”

“Peter bought them for him and Ashley before they went their separate ways. I bought them from him.”

I take a deep inconspicuous breath, and then I smile at him. “Thanks. It should be fun.”

“Pity, we could not get VIP access. We did after all, go to school with them.”

I wonder if Johnathan and Vincent ever spoke two words to each other, yet now he expected to get very important person tickets because he knew him once in passing. He went to school with Vincent for years, but never really knew him at all.

The day passes quickly. Too quickly, and I feel the apprehension build up in my chest as the day speeds by. I want to put my hand on the hands of the clock and slow down time.

That evening I dress in a pair of jeans and a new, cobalt coloured cashmere sweater. I wash and dry my hair, but I let it dry naturally so it dries in a jumble of curls around my shoulders.

My cell phone beeps, and it is my cue, my signal that Johnathan is waiting outside for me. His parents got him an apartment on the Upper East Side, but I am here on a scholarship, so I live with all the other normal students with normal salary earning parents.

I walk out to Johnathan and he is talking to a group of girls outside the dorm. I hear him laughing exuberantly, and he sweeps his hand subconsciously through his blonde hair. If you did not know Johnathan, you would think he is still the playboy, but now when he becomes aware of me walking toward him, he greets the group of girls friendly and walks to me.

He hugs me close and he kisses me lightly in the fold of my neck. Over his shoulder, I see the disappointed look on most of the faces of the girls he left behind.

Taking my hand, he smiles. “I thought we would walk from here. It would save us having to look for parking and it is not far.”

I agree. After all Madison Square Gardens is only as far from where I lived, as the bus stop used to be from The Christian Academy. This walk is better though because we walk past businesses and the windows reflect brightly in the winter gloom.

Johnathan holds my gloved hand snugly to his and we walk companionably through the streets, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

When we arrive at the concert hall, we stand outside in the queue, slowly inching our way forwards to the entrance. On the sidewalk, people are selling the usual concert paraphernalia. The crowd is mostly young girls between the ages of fourteen and sixteen and accompanying mothers stick out like sore thumbs in this young crowd.

We eventually get to the gates and then we walk through to the centre, to our seats. The hustle and bustle together with the excitement hang heavy in the air.

Johnathan asks me if I want to buy a T-shirt, and I consider I do not want to walk around with Vincent’s face so close to the proximity of my heart.

We walk into the concert area, and then Johnathan leads me to the front. Our seats are near the front, about twelve rows in. Large beach balls are bounced around between eager hands reaching up for them.

Johnathan leans over to me. “You are so quiet, tonight?”

I smile. “Just taking it all in. Can you imagine all of this for someone we used to go to school with?”

“It could have been for you as well, you know.”

“No, I don’t think I would have ever gone through with it. At the time, it was a wistful dream, but now when I look back it was silly. I don’t think I would have liked to do it.”

“Imagine if you did choose the band, you and I would not be here now.”

“Exactly.” I smile pleasantly.

He takes my hand in his and he squeezes it softly. “Do you know I love you?” He asks.

“I know. And, you know I love you?”

He smiles in reply.

The lights darken around us and then the hall is plummeted into darkness except for the luminous green, yellow and pink glow sticks waving around. It seems surreal. Soft stage lights go on, and a hush falls over the crowd. Smoke billows up from a hidden crevice and then piercing yells and screams reverberate through the hall as a dark shape walk across the stage.

However, this is not a member of the band because seconds later to the slow beat of drums beating a beat building up in anticipation, the band is lowered onto the stage from somewhere above.

Everybody is on their feet, and despite myself, I find myself craning my neck to see above the bobbing heads in front of me.

All of a sudden, in an explosion of brilliant light, Vincent is there in front of me on the stage. He is standing there in real life; he is not just a flat, one- dimensional picture in a magazine. Pictures never felt as real as actually seeing someone in person.

I gasp softly when I look up into his face. Vivid memories fill my mind rapidly. For a moment, I wonder if they will sing all the old songs, but it has been three years and they are promoting their second album.

Vincent’s voice echoes in my ears and pulls at the strings of my heart. I feel tears burning behind my eyes as I look up at the stage while holding tightly onto Johnathan’s hand. I feel his palm pressed against mine and I feel the pleasant way his fingers wrap around mine. From his touch, I gather strength.

Johnathan is singing loudly with the band, swaying with the music.

He looks at me happily, and then nudging me playfully, he yells so I can hear, “They are good!”

I just nod my head, yes. I am sure he cannot see the sadness in my eyes here in the dark.

After a few songs, the music stops and then I see Vincent lean into the microphone, and it is with immense shock when I hear his voice again. It has been so long since I have heard him speak, yet the sound of his voice forming words and not lyrics is so recognizable to me, it is as if I heard it only yesterday.

Vincent says from the stage, “We are now going to sing one of our songs from our first album.” The roar from the crowd is thunderous. The stage lights up in a blue hue and I watch as Vincent walks to a piano. He sits down on the stool and then with heart-wrenching familiarity I hear the first poignant notes of The Great Divide.

Luminous sticks and cell phone lights wave through the air above our heads. Everybody sings the words with Vincent, every word, except me. I stand and listen, and the song and the words transport me back to another time and place.

When the song is finished, Vincent walks centre stage again, and then the lights in the hall get a bit brighter. Instead of the blue, there is now a multicolour spectrum of lights flashing continuously upon the stage.

They start to sing one of their new songs, the song I heard this morning on the radio. The song in which Vincent sadly sings that he cannot stop thinking about someone – surely and certainly not me.

A bright light swirls above the heads of the crowd, illuminating a group of people at a time.

The light sweeps over me, and then I am looking into the eyes of Vincent. It is not as if I am imagining it. I feel a tense excitement as I feel an instant connection with him. I see him pause for a second, and then he continues singing while still looking in my direction. The light sweeps away from me, but I cannot look away from him, and when the light sweeps over me again, I see the recognition in his face when he is still looking in my direction.

After the song, the hall is once again dropped into blackness, and when he starts to sing again, he goes back to being the entertainer he is born to be.

The concert lasts a little longer than an hour and then we move to the exit areas slowly. It feels as if a feeling of sadness has replaced the happy excitement of the crowd. Everybody trudges to the exit doors, smiling and still laughing, but there is downheartedness in the air.

By the time Johnathan and I get outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air and we follow the group of people ahead of us to the gates, and in the general direction of where I live.

I see a limousine driving away slowly down the road, and my heart follows the red taillights as I watch them fade into the night.

Johnathan asks me, “Did you have fun? You look so sad.”

I grin. “It was great, and such a wonderful surprise. Did I say thank you to you yet for always being so thoughtful.”

I lean to him to kiss him on his cheek when I feel a hand fold around my arm.

In shock, I turn around, ready to swing my bag around and hit the would-be thief sideways against the head, and I inhale deeply when I see Vincent standing slightly behind Johnathan.

He is wearing a deep black hooded jacket. His face is hidden, but standing in front of me, the light from the streetlight throwing shadows around us, I would identify his eyes anywhere.

Johnathan smiles brightly. “Hey, aren’t you?”

Vincent grins. “Yes, but don’t say my name out loud.”

“Oh, okay.” Johnathan looks around at the many girls marching past us on the sidewalk. They are all laughing and talking excitedly amongst themselves.

Vincent looks at me, and I am speechless.

He says, “Would you like to go out with me? Maybe go for a drink?”

Johnathan replies, without a second thought, and without any consideration towards me, “Hell, yeah!”

I wonder who is more star-struck – him or all the young girls surrounding us. A brief frown flashes across Vincent’s brow. He looks at Johnathan, and then he returns his gaze questioningly to me.

I look back at Vincent and I say softly, “I suppose we could.”

We walk together across the road and then into a small alleyway to the next block. We walk out of the dark alleyway and then across to the road running diagonally away from the concert hall. Vincent walks closely next to me, and I feel awkward, holding onto Johnathan’s hand. Although Vincent is not touching me, he might as well be. My every sense is awakened and alive.

Suddenly everything is quieter and hushed, although vehicles never stop driving around in the city that never sleeps, it seems softer than usual. We are also gone from the throng and masses of people leaving the concert.

Vincent silently, broodingly leads us to a corner bar, and we walk in one after the other.

The bar is quiet and dimly lit, so we follow Vincent to a table at the back. I see Dennis, George, and Simon already seated there. I also notice the large pitcher of beer standing in the middle of the table.

When we reach the booth, they look up and I notice recognition flare in their eyes.

They almost stand up as one and, and my name, ‘Chrissie’, flows from their mouths in chorus.

I am so happy to see them. Seeing them again remind me of a time not so long ago, yet it felt as if it happened to me in a vague dream.

Johnathan slides into the booth next to Dennis and I slide in next to him. Vincent sits down next to Simon opposite me.

Vincent rests his hands on the table, close to my hands already there. Although he does not touch me, I still feel a tingle of electricity run through my body. It feels as if every hair on my arm is reaching for him.

George looks at me amused, “Chrissie, whatever happened to you. You have grown even more prettier.”

Simon agrees, “Yeah, you are looking very fit.”

I feel an instant flush rush up into my face, and I look at them embarrassed, “Must be all the fresh air here.”

Everybody laughs, but I see Vincent only smiling.

Dennis chips in, “That is so funny, comparing the air here to the big open spaces of Charleston, as fresh.”

Simon lifts his hand and a server brings three extra glasses and another pitcher of beer.

Although nobody asks me my age or for any identification, I ask the server to bring me a glass of orange juice.

The band only remembers Johnathan vaguely from his playboy status at The Christian Academy, so they look at him apprehensively.

Johnathan, however, has an easy way about him, and he says with mirth, “You guys are great. Imagine coming from the back of beyond, and then becoming so famous.” For some reason, this puts everybody at ease, and we talk casually, mostly about the band.

Every time I look at Vincent, I am looking in his eyes and everything comes back to me, everything from that summer, and my endless love for him.

Later I lean over to Johnathan, and I see Vincent look at me thoughtfully. I whisper near Johnathan’s ear, “I have to go to the bathrooms.”

Johnathan looks across his arm at me and then squeezing my thigh with his hand already resting there, he smiles.

As I slide out of the booth, I hear Johnathan ask them, “How do you know where to go where nobody will find you?”

I walk to the very back of the pub, feeling Vincent’s eyes following me.

The little passage is dimly lit, and crates and boxes are tightly packed along the sides. There is just enough space for one person to walk through to the green luminous international sign for toilets – the triangle girl and the boy standing with his legs wide open.

I go into the brightly lit bathroom, and I squint after the dim darkness of the passage.

I look at myself in the mirror and I can see my own sadness and guilt reflected in them. Here we are—Vincent and me. We declared our undying love for each other and now we sit here across from each other as if we were only once good friends.

I get my lip-gloss from my bag and then I put some on my lips. The shimmer from my lips now balances the glimmer in my eyes perfectly.

After a while, I walk to the heavy bathroom and I pull the door open. I can hear the sighing noise coming from the mechanism at the top of the door when it slides closed behind me.

The passage is instantly dark, and I walk toward the light of the pub, waiting for my eyes to adjust.

I do not get far. Vincent is waiting for me.

He is blocking the entire passage and even if I smiled politely and said, ‘Excuse me,’ I would still not be able to get past him. Besides, he would not see my smile here in the near darkness. Either, I would have to go back to the bathroom or, he would have to turn around and go back to the pub area.

I stand in front of him unsure. I feel his hands reaching for me, even before he actually touches me. I hold my breath in eager expectation. I know I should not be standing here craving Vincent’s touch, when Johnathan is sitting only a few meters away from me in the pub, talking excitedly and in celebrity shell shock with the remaining members of the band.

When his hands fold around my waist, a deep sigh escapes my lips. He holds me tentatively and then he pulls me into him. I know I should resist, but I move closer to him. I sense his head coming closer and without being able to stop myself, I stand on my toes and reach up to him. I feel his lips touching mine softly and he murmurs, “I have missed you so much.” His words echo the thought in my mind.

He pulls me tightly into him, and then I wrap my arms around his shoulders. I kiss him back and I part my lips. I feel the softness of his mouth, and I feel my stomach tumble.

From a distance, I hear Johnathan’s voice calling my name, but I do not want to leave. I do not want to go back to the present. I want to stay here with Vincent in the past.

Vincent lets me go slowly and I move away reluctantly. I hear myself say, “I am on my way, Johnathan.”

He calls from the end of the passage, “Okay. I was just wondering what happened to you.”

“I’ll be there now.”

The passage gets brighter as his shadow moves away to the bar again.

I whisper, “I have to go.”

I do not want to go, but now guilt overpowers my feelings of desperation.

His hands are resting possessively on my hips. He pleads, “Don't tell me I will never see you again.”

I move away from him and say sincerely apologetic, “I am sorry.”

For a moment, he stands deadly still in front of me, and then I see him moving away from me.

I follow him, and then abruptly we walk into the brightness of the dim bar.

Awkwardly, we sit down again, and the look in Johnathan’s eyes when he looks at me, makes me look down with guilt.

Vincent moves his leg under the table, and he leans it against my own. I do not know what to do. I feel so conflicted, aggravated, hurt, and damaged.

Later Johnathan leans into me, “Maybe we should go. It’s getting late.”

“Okay.” I want to stay. I want to talk to Vincent without having to worry what Johnathan might hear. I want to kiss Vincent, and I want him to hold me close. I cannot help myself. I realize even though Johnathan and I have been together, and even though I thought I did love him. I loved Vincent with a different love, an all-encompassing, heart rendering emotion.

Johnathan and I get up to leave, and Dennis, George, Simon, and Vincent get up with us.

George says jovially, “Chrissie, you must keep in touch.”

Johnathan remarks, “It would be easier for you to keep contact with Chrissie.”

Simon laughs. “Yes, we have so many people protecting our supposed interests; it would be difficult for you to get in touch with us.”

George starts to scribble something on a scrap of paper and hands it to Johnathan. “Here is my number. You can phone me, and we can all meet up again. Johnathan, it was nice meeting you.”

Johnathan laughs, a slight embarrassed tone in it. “Although we knew each other, we only really met tonight. That's school for you. We are all so busy with our own things; we do not notice what everybody else is doing.”

Vincent says nothing and I hug Dennis, George and Simon goodbye with false promises of keeping in touch, although I have a feeling Johnathan will be using George’s number sooner rather than later and we will meet up again, although I doubt Vincent would always be in the group as well.

Self-consciously, I look at Vincent. I am unsure if I should lean into him and hug him goodbye.

Johnathan is not standing with me; he is talking with George. They had an instant connection and I find it weird they never knew each other better at school.

Then Vincent’s arms are around me, and I am swallowed into his embrace. I feel myself sink into him and there is nothing I can or want to do but hold onto him tightly in return.

I hear him whisper in my ear; the ear away from the rest of the group, and he whispers, “Please stay.”

I close my eyes for a moment, and then I move away from him. Smiling apologetically, I glance briefly in Vincent’s direction and then I leave the bar with Johnathan.

We walk to my residential building, and Johnathan cannot stop talking about the band. How he never knew George is such a pleasant, friendly person. All I can think about is how Vincent’s touch, his kiss brought my soul back to life. I never noticed as time moved on, how when I took life in my stride, I neglected my soul and it has become a dark, hollow black hole deep within me. Now Vincent has breathed a spark of radiance back into me, I also feel the pinpricks of pain. The needles and pins numb aching feeling.

Johnathan does not notice my quietness; he is too excited, and he talks without stopping. By the time we get back to my apartment, he walks with me to the door, and then he takes me softly, sighing deeply into his arms.

His lips move closer to mine, and as his lips touch mine disgust fills me for myself because all I can think of is Vincent and the feelings I have when I am with him.

CONTINUE READING