Chapter 46:

Oliver's Point of View

It's been four months since Beckinsile left me; I still remember it like it happened yesterday and it still hurts just as much.

It's august right now which means two things. 1) I'm about to start my senior year without Beckinsile and 2) it's almost my birthday.

I turn 18 in less than a week and I've overheard my parents talking about having a celebration but I'm not really in a celebration mood;I'm not really in a mood for anything as a matter of fact.

I feel like crawling up under my covers and forgetting that I even live in this world anymore. My mom's still been forcing me to go see Dr. Byrne but he doesn't really help at all.

He mostly asks me to describe my feelings and then he changes my anti-depressant meds again. I just go to humor my mom, not because I actually feel helped.

My mom looks stretched thin from all my moping around. I feel bad that I'm the one doing this to her but I can't help it. She makes me reassure her every morning that I'll still be here when she gets home; I do as she pleases but I don't think even she believes me anymore.

She knows I spend my days at home, looking at pictures of Beckinsile and listening to All Time Low. I know she's worried but I think she should just give it up. I'm beyond being saved and now it's just a waiting game, seeing how long I last before I snap.

I hear the phone ring but I don't rush to answer it. Once I make it to the line, I pick up and hear Ed's voice on the other end.

"Oliver, hey man, I had this crazy idea...I want to write a song about Beckinsile. I want it to be about your guys' love and how it has continued. I want it to be raw and emotional and I want you to help me out with it...I'd like it to be from your point of view." Ed sounds hesitant and the line goes silent as I ponder his offer.

I should probably get out of the house, as my parents and everyone else keeps telling me, and all I want to do is think about Beckinsile, an unhealthy activity according to my therapist, so what better way to do that than write a song for her?

"I'll do it; when should I be over there?"

"Great! I'll send my manager over to pick you up within the hour."

"Thanks, see you soon, Ed..." I mutter and hang up.

I race up the stairs and change into a pair of jeans and a dark t-shirt. I squash my sleep-ridden hair down with a beanie and slip on a few more bracelets to cover up my wrists. I don't need another person to add to my pity parade.

~~~~~

A limo pulls up in front of my house and out steps a well groomed man in a business suit. He introduces himself as Mr. Garner, Edward Sheeran's personal manager. I shake his hand and he leads me to the back of the limo. I slip inside and slide across the buttery leather seats.

"So, I hear you are going to work on a new song with Ed...Is that true?" Mr. Garner gives me a kind smile and urges me to respond.

"Yeah, I guess I am." Mr. Garner doesn't look very satisfied with my short response but he doesn't pressure me to continue the conversation.

We arrive at a modern looking building that sports the logo for Stark Weather Records. I step out with Mr. Garner and follow him into a glass elevator.

We ride up a few floors, snake through some hallways and finally arrive in a recording studio. The recording studio has all the usual equipment including a recording booth and a mixing board. However, the rest of the space is filled with bean bags and refreshments, perfect for spending all day writing a song. A familiar redhead engulfs me in a hug and tugs me towards a pair of bean bags. I sink down into one as Ed hands me a notepad, pencil and bottle of water.

"Ready to begin?" He asks with a small smile.

"I guess, so how does one begin a song?"

"We need to determine what we want it to be about and then we go from there..." Ed scribbles some things down on his notepad before directing his gaze towards me. "I want you to talk to me about your love with Beckinsile..." The whole room goes silent after he finishes that sentence.

"She was my everything. After she died, I felt like maybe if I could just hold her one more time I might be able to continue on but I don't think I'll ever be able to. This is never going to get easier."

"What did she mean to you, you know besides everything?" Ed asks seriously.

"Well for starters, she was the only reason I actually showed up to school...Without her I would've ditched every other day...She was my life, as obsessive at it may sound, she was...My world revolved around her and when she left, I didn't know what reason I had left to live..."

"What were the days after her death like for you?"

"I cried all day and I had no will to do anything but sit around in my room and stare out windows." I state as Ed's hand moves across the paper.

"Tell me some of your fondest memories of her..."

"I remember when we went to Brad's Halloween party; she looked so taken aback by the flashing lights all around the house. She was wearing this white dress and she looked so beautiful with all the colored lights bouncing off the surface of her dress that I knew I had to memorize every detail of how she looked so I could remember it for eternity."

"Any others?"

"I remember when she played street soccer with Eli, Cody, Xander and I. I remember she was skeptical throughout the first half of the game but she gave in eventually and by the end she looked like she was having the time of her life. It made me the happiest person when she embraced me after the game with a huge smile on her face; it's a feeling I wouldn't give up for anything."

"I want you to tell me how you feel, what you feel like doing whenever you think about her and anything else that would help the song..."

"Whenever I think about her, I stand shell-shocked in place and I can't move. I want to run to my room and spend eternity in there. I want to sit in the darkness and pretend that she's coming back even though I know in my heart that she isn't..." I take in a few breaths and try to calm down my tears.

"I think we have enough to start the song and I have an idea for the first verse..." Ed says as he sets his notepad now.

~~~~~

Ed adds the finishing touches to the song and then goes into the recording booth for a first run. I pick through my Chinese takeout as the melody we decided on comes blaring through the speakers.

I see Ed choke up on the first line and then he breaks down. I have never seen him this way. I've never seen him this emotional, period. He's always so reserved and quiet about his pain that I didn't think he had this many tears in him. I open the recording booth door and pull Ed into a hug.

"If this song is too emotional, maybe you should just wait until you feel comfortable singing it..." I try to comfort him but he just takes in a few deep breaths before letting go of me.

"The thing is I don't think I'll ever be able to sing this...I just can't do it without thinking about her and then I break down all over again..."

I take the lyric sheet from his hands and scan what we've spent all day writing.

Shut the door

Turn the light off

I wanna be with you

I wanna feel your love

I wanna lay beside you

I cannot hide this

Even though I try

I can't continue past the first verse but a few lines in particular catch my eye.

"There's a numb in my toes, standing close to the edge...There's a pile of my clothes at the end of your bed...As I feel myself fall, make a joke of it all..." I repeat those lines over and over again in my head until I have them committed to memory.

"I'll try it one more time but I may end up giving this to another artist, one that can do the song justice..." Ed says as he shoos me out of the recording booth so he can try to sing it again.

Needless to say, it went much like the first time and he decided that it may be for the best that he gives the song to another artist.

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