Chapter 8

Dear Britney,

We’re so busy right now rehearsing the song that we wrote yesterday and the dance that we’re going to perform tomorrow. The roadies woke up us as early as 4:30 in the morning to have breakfast and started the practice soon as we finished our breakfast.

“Okay, water break for five minutes.” Neal says.

I sits on the bench wiping my sweat all over my face. Harry sit next to me. He offers a bottle of water I look at him: If I’ll accept it then it would be a sign of accepting him in my life again. It can be of start of something new, a start that I don’t want to. I turn my head the other way and stands to my friends.

“I saw it, Elise.” Arya says.

“What?” I say.

“Harry is different when it comes to you.” Arya says.

“I notices it, also.” Zara agrees.

“I don’t think so.” I lied.

Neal calls us again for a recap. I am not really a dancer and I am not really enjoying what we’re doing here today. In the middle of our practice I can feel my body beginning to feel so heavy and I’m beginning to lose my balance. Feeling the heat of the sun that dragging my energy down. I can’t understand these people with me seems so compelling while I am weary in just a matter of 15 minutes. A few more minutes we’re being ordered to go inside and have a lunch. I grab a glass of water and stands to get myself an ice.

Abstractedly, I bash into someone I say my apology without looking into someone, when I turns to see who it is, it turns out I bump Harry in his wet shirt, smirking at me.

“Are you amuse that I throw half my water to you?” I ask him.

“No, I’m not amuse that you throw water to me but because you blindedly talk to me.” he retort.

“Jerk.” I mumble and left him dripping.

I fully put ice into my glass and walk back to my seat come across Harry still standing where I left him a while ago. He grab my wrist nearly throwing my glass. I look at his hand on my wrist and then to his face.

“Talk to me.” he beseech.

“We talked, a while ago.” I reply then yank my hand to emancipate by his hand.

After lunch I go to my room, there’s a guitar sitting on my bed I always forget to ask who’s borrowing a guitar since I am the only person in this room who can play a guitar. I strum a random string, I sat on the bed and play the chords of the song I’m trying to write. I can’t think of the right word to write so I write random sentences on my phone.

I draw your face in heaven.

I put the smile on paper.

There’s something in your smile.

With the sky filled with light.

Because there’s a song in the ocean.

But when I close my eyes I see you.

I can’t think of a good chords to use for the song and I’ve been trying to write this song for two days now. I was still in the mid of writing when one of the roadies call me for the afternoon rehearsal. We rehears again until our lungs turns upside down. By 7:00 P.M. we have our dinner, it’s the end of the rehearsal but Mr. Kite have a different plan for me. I’m watching him approaching our table, I don’t know what he want to do or who he want to talk to until he look at me eye to eye and I am not comfortable watching a person looking at me directly in my eyes.

“E, do you have any plan to join the contest? Most of the campers wants to join.” Zara asks.

“I don’t even want to be here, and here you are asking me if I’ll be joining tomorrow’s contest.” I reply and roll my eyes.

Mr. Kite finally made it in my back he taps my back that make me jolts. I turn my back to look at me and he swiftly ask me to talk to him.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks.

He walks away and I follow him. I notices that he always walk with his hands on his back and he’s walking with confidence showing his chest and chin up like he owns the world. He has a big stomach it was obvious even in my view. Throughout in this camp he always wears one type of clothes: A suit and a tie in the summer weather of this country. I wonder if he also wears the same clothes in his sleep. He turns to me when we’re far enough to the people and far enough to be heard by someone.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I like you,” he put his hands on his face in a prayer position where the tip of his fingers are touching his lips. “Do you mind if you’ll come with us? I want you to be my talent; you can be a singer and a songwriter just like Taylor Swift or Avril Lavinge or Hayley Williams. Everyone will love you as much as I like you, Elise.” He says it with an excitement on his face.

He’s expecting me to like his offer. He’s expecting me to say yes. He’s so confident to his offer. He’s so blunt that he never waste any second to be wasted for an intro, instead he said his offer directly without any further ado.

“My songs are not for sale.” I say quietly.

I don’t know if it’s my way of saying no but Mr. Kite put his hands on his side with a little disbelief on his eyes. I know he is expecting me to take his offer but I turn his offer down.

He shakes his head and look me in my eyes again. “We are not going to buy your songs, we won’t take the credit to you and give the whole copyright to you. We will just be there to produce your songs and you’ll be famous just like the other famous artist. I can see you to be the next Taylor Swift or Lizzy.

“But their genre are very different to mine.

His brushes his face using his hands in his disappointment. His beginning to get annoy to me.

“Tell me the reason why you write those songs?” He ignores my comment.

“I don’t want to be famous and I don’t want to be a pop star.” I say ignoring his question.

He looks at me wide eyed open. I can see the disappointment on his expression.

“Okay, better to tell me why you sang your own composition in this competition.” He pushes his argument.

“You told me to do it. You think I want to sing those songs?” I said gesticulating my hands.

“Tell me your conditions, it’s okay. Be who you are I will let you.” he insists.

“I will only accept your condition if you let me to be a songwriter but not a singer.

Writer, that’s the only thing I want to do in my life but singing is not. Besides, I have a terrible stage fright but right now I’m overcoming it. Imagining myself to sing for the rest of my entire life just to please people to like me, trying to keep my good reputation intact, ignoring the bad comments about me, hiding myself in front of the camera, trying to pretend I still have a normal 17-year-old life is not the kind of life and career that I want to do for myself. To simplify everything I’ve said: I don’t want to sing in my entire life. I don’t want to say these trail of thoughts in this ugly, fat, British, old man in front of me.

He smiles at me and exhale. He nods for a second and asked for my number and email.

“Before I’ll give you my number and email, I will ask my mom first about this.” I smiles back to him.

I know my mom would be, of course, she’ll be exaggeratedly excited about this, but I don’t care. I wish she’ll support me of turning down the offer. I still can be a filmmaker, right? But, honestly I never heard a singer directing a film.

“Okay. If you want me to wait for your answer, then, I will be willingly want to talk to your mother about it and wait until tomorrow.” he says.

With that, he exhale and offer his hand for an agreement, that I frankly don’t want to discuss tomorrow with my mother. I walk to the room with my sleepy friends, then I remember that he promised for a quick conversation but it lasted for more than half an hour. I tried to sleep but my mind is so noisy that I can’t sleep. I gave up when I check the time to be exactly 3:30 in the morning. I go outside to breathe some fresh air that I would be sorely miss. I see the people preparing the stage for the show. This island’s electricity are still on in preparation of the stage for tomorrow’s mini concert, Mr. Kite talked to the residents’ mayor of the municipality from across the island for tomorrow’s event and gave free tickets to the residents, remember where we got the boat to come across from this island? Yeah they’ll be a lot of people here tomorrow. The campers has five tickets for family and friends to see the mini concert, which I don’t know how they’ll be able to contact our families and friends without any signal in this island. I texted my mom since she’s the only person I have left and obviously forgotten there’s no signal in this island. I plan to tell my mother about the offer of Mr. Kite tomorrow after the concert.

I wonder if your parents are already in the country, I talked to your mom months back and she mentions that your father and mother will be visiting the country to sell your parent’s house and business but I never asked when. Your mom said that they never want to return in this country, not ever again. I feel like they just want to bury all the memories they have here, as if it’s a good move to do.

I’m watching the people moving back and forth carrying things to move around when I felt someone pat my back. I turn around and see Harry staring down at me. He’s so tall and pale and his hair is so messy. I step back, he’s too close to me.

“Why aren’t you sleeping yet?” he asks.

I’ve never know someone has an electric green eyes. Even though how dark his eyes are it has an electricity in it or maybe it only happens every time his looking at me. I grew this whole awkward situation with Harry in just a matter of six days, I’m getting used to it and I am so happy that this thing between us is going to be over in less than 24 hours and I will never seeing this face again for the rest of my life.

“You really like staying late, huh?” He joke and looks up at the stars. I look back at the people preparing the stage.

“Look who’s talking.” I say and smirks. “I just can’t sleep, so I decided to go outside for a walk.

I look at him. His looking where I was looking. “I noticed…” he starts.

I know what his going to say. I hold my breath. I try to look calm while looking at him I am so tired letting my feelings be controlled by this man, even though I barely know him. He gazes at me so intensely I can’t stand it, why does his eyes speak honestly, and what I really hate the most is that his eyes speak from his heart, which I really, honestly, completely hate the most. I wish he won’t finish his sentence.

“I notice you keep on trying to ignore me.” he finally says.

I blow the air I’ve been keeping, slowly. “I just don’t feel like talking to you.” I retort.

The words just flows out my mouth before I can even consult it to my brain. Is that the right words to say? But I know deep down that I really don’t want to talk to him after what happened in the tree house. I look back at the workers as the wind blows to my face I can hear his footsteps closer to me. I remind myself it’s dangerous to see in his eyes right now. It’s less than twenty two hours before the camp is over. I have to be a little bit smarter this time. He put his hands on my shoulder and lean his forehead on the back of my head. I can feel him releasing an air slowly and I can feel my knees shaking.

“I want you, Elise.” He says in greeted teeth.

I close my eyes and tried so hard not to listen to the words his saying but after that sentence, nothing else follow. We remain standing like that then a few more minute he let go of my shoulder to emancipate me from his arms. Then he take a first step away from, I count his steps away from me, he stops in the count of hour, he’s debating whether to stay or leave but then continue to walk away. I feel like we’re in a holy ground a blessed ground that we’re standing but both of us are afraid to fall on that grace. I know that even though he doesn’t say it I can feel that he’s afraid, just like me. I let him walk away even though I know to myself that he’s waiting for me to speak so I speak.

“I’m not here for someone to love me.” I say.

He stops walking I don’t know if he spins around to look at me but I don’t want to see his face so I remain standing with my back to him.

“Besides, it’s too early for that feeling. As if you’re sure with that.” I continue.

“I don’t know how it happened too. I’ve just met you six days ago and my feelings just-” He blows an air. “I’m not sure if this is love, Elise I just want to kiss you.” He says it again like he’s saying ‘I love you’.

I just don’t like our conversation like this, I told to myself. And I don’t like him here.

“Not because you’ve never kissed someone before but because I like you and that what’s my brain is saying.” He says.

I turn to look at him, he’s looking directly at me. We’re feet apart now I thought he just took ten steps a while ago before I said something. This time I wish they turned off the light so the tears on Harry’s eyes is not visible to my eyes. He’s crying because of me, isn’t he?

“I’m not good at expressing my feelings in conversation like this but I don’t feel the same. Harry, I don’t know how you expect me to react in the situation like this, can we just skip this bullshit.” I say.

He’s nodding his head. He is walking closer to me now. I’m freaking now because I don’t want him so close. It’s making me feel nervous especially in the situation like this.

“Tell me your real feelings.” he plea.

“I don’t like you.” And that’s the truth.

He stops for a second closing mouth as he absorbs my words. I think he got hurt by what I’ve said but with the look of his eyes I can tell that he’s absorbing every bit of it. I give another thought about his question for a second time: he can weaken my knees but it doesn’t mean that I like him the way he likes me, right? It’s not special or something worse. I feel sorry for being this blunt to him tonight but I don’t want something to hold back to him especially if he’s suffering from analyzing his feelings to me and misunderstanding my actions towards him, thinking that I feel the same cloud nine like he do. He strides another step closer to me and bends down to put his hand on my cheek. I know what he’s going to do but I don’t know why I just close my eyes when I feel his lips on my lips. The fireworks begun inside of me and all of the stars and the moon even all the gods I can name is looking at us now. I don’t know why the butterflies are hidden in my stomach but they all fly away. He successfully weakens my knees; I can’t be clumsier when I fell in Harry’s arms, when I two seconds ago can stand straight. He carries me, just like what he did the first time we met in the woods, laughing so hard like drank person. He stares at me then I realizes something wrong, I suddenly jump and pushes him away he’s confuse now at my actions, I look at him avoiding his eyes and slap him hard enough he got unbalance. I left him standing in confusion.

The room is spinning, I don’t know if it still the effect of his kiss or just because sleep is calling me. It’s already 4:40 A.M. I lay down on my bed and touch my lips. I don’t know if it’s an opportunity to kiss Harry but I decides to find it disrespectful but I let him do that. The thing is I found it romantic even though one of the people I really hate kissed me. It just makes me hate him more than I could ever. I’ve decided to hate him more.

I wonder what you would feel when I literally telling you these beside me.

Goodnight, Brit.


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