Disbelief
This dream felt like water. Sluggish, warm water kept my mind in a bubble. Only a few inches of liquid covered the tip of my nose, and fish in all imaginable colors floated around me. They sidled so silent; not even a single glug was hearable. The whole universe reposed.
Eavesdropped.
Until the only tone wide and far showed up. Straight into my lovely waterbed. Lover of a bit dramatic would probably compare the act to an explosion. Undersea and headfirst.
The tone became shrill and caused the first few waves.
When I was six years old I broke my leg
I burst through the water surface, gasping.
There might have been a drain under my sleeping body because all the water disappeared as soon as I rose up. The piercing tone that robbed me of my slumber was turning itself into a melody.
Next to me in the tram sat two full-blooded pensioners, including woolen camisoles and hiking poles. Everyone was able to hear their preferred radio station through the iPhone on the old Lady's lap.
I was running from my brother and his friends
Even if the music interrupted my peace, I should almost be grateful for it. Somehow, my subconsciousness managed to rouse me exactly while this one was playing, and not one of the dozens of other pop songs. On the eve of the right tram stop.
Maybe I wouldn't have been able to visit the cat library without it.
"Dear passengers," mumbled Siri's sister out of the loudspeakers in the vehicle.
I'm on my way, whispered the seductive singing voice out of the iPad.
"We're going to reach the station, New Man in a minute. Please have a little patience until the doors open automatically."
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill
"Look at this, Hugo! Nowadays, these youngsters are even too drunk to stay awake in the morning," one of the pensioners completed the announcement.
Why couldn't I just meet one of those notorious ex-hippies? Instead of discussing strawberry fields and Woodstock, the two examples in the tram only pointed at me and shook their head to the beat of the music.
Fortunately for them, I was still too dizzy to explain that my tiredness wasn't even caused by alcohol. In fact, not even my lack of sleep was my fault. How should I've known how early X liked to wake me up as a "surprise"?
"The Florida Man pointed a laser at a helicopter and got arrested. We have to celebrate this," he had laughed through the telephone receiver. "Cimemaaaa time! We're going to meet in the library."
Yes, I was totally aware of the amount of jabberwocky that lived on his tongue, but if I had to pick my most cursed characteristic, I would choose, without a doubt, my inability to reject people.
Especially if it's X, who was always keeping me awake with his silly voice messages at 2 am. If I wouldn't like them I could have turned my phone to mute a long time ago. Clock radios were a better option anyway... If most of the stations just wouldn't be dominated by a certain musician.
I stood up and walked past the old couple as unremarkable as possible. The hope of winning their grace died as their eyebrows sunk even deeper on their face. At least they didn't have to stand me any longer. I simply passed the time until the next full braking by holding onto one of the bars.
New Man was an odd name for a stop but also the station I had been waiting for.
Fortunately, everyone in the tram had been too kind to purloin my backpack during my short nap. Or maybe the pensioners had to fight a troop of twenty thieves at once and that's the actual reason why they were mad at me.
As soon as the doors opened themselves with a drawn-out whizz, the temperature sank into the minus range. Perhaps Frau Holle needed to compensate for the lack of snow at Christmas in the near future.
I blew over my fingertips and considered for the span of a second to stay in the tram and grieve for my forgotten gloves. My whole hand began to transform into an ice cube. But the visible steam in front of my mouth turned me into an excited kindergarten child.
In addition, it would be cruel to leave X without someone whose ear he could talk off, so it was for the better that I finally stepped out of the tram.
And it's dark in a cold December, but I've ya to keep me warm
The way to the cat library was only a stone's throw. New Man Street 17 laughed at me from a distance that was likely less than a couple of feet. Before I could step under the lantern in front of the entrance, I hesitated for a split second and threw once again a gaze to the house number.
I had memorized it correctly. Seventeen.
17.
My brain seemed - especially today - to connect something with that number. If only I had memorized what.
Y opened right after I pushed the bell button. The woman rose every day at 6 am to spoil all the straying cats with everything they required. Even as a young girl, she had been blessed with an open heart for the uncountable strays. I remember how she was always late for school because she had inspected the cats that crossed her path. The teachers used to shook their heads when Y ran into class, covered in hundreds of long cat hairs and the smell of dead fish.
With the "cat library," she had taken her helpfulness to a whole different level. While humans were looking for new books, cats could find a warm place, and sometimes, Y was lucky enough to spot a visitor who was willing to adopt one of her fluffy flatmates.
"You're awake?"
Before I had a chance to answer, Y already pulled the door shut. With some acrobatic skills, I managed to squeeze myself through the closing gap with a move that made me feel James Bond's jealousy.
Despite all of her selfnesses, living with Y was some sort of a stunt itself. Nobody was surprised to find out her best friends were cats. Those little guys are fitting really well into tiny gaps.
Kissed her on the neck and then I took her by the hand, baby I just wanna dance
The first thing that streamed from the library towards me was well-known music. Even before I recognized the smell of wet cat food. Both weren't very good at offering me a positive first impression.
"Oh, you finally got yourself a radio?" was the best thing that came to my mind. Y seemed like she didn't have a lot of money to spend after the last few months. You didn't have to be created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle to see the crumbling plaster on the walls or the bowl on the floor that caught the melting icicle, dripping through a hole in the ceiling. And she didn't even want to think of the many cracks on the balcony upstairs.
Y simply shrugged and guided me deeper into the heart of her library. I could soon see that she had built a minimalist counter next to the wobbly shelves with some kitchen equipment on top. The coffee machine started, while she was getting two mugs for us.
Its buzz didn't really drown out the music. I couldn't spot the radio but its sound felt somehow incredibly loud.
"Would you mind to boil a bit of water for me, please?" I asked Y. "I've brought some tea bags with me."
"When did you start becoming British?" was Y's only comment. Despite that, she was well-behaved enough to fill my mug with hot water.
I found some delicious-looking ginger tea yesterday in the shopping center and carried them with me all the time since then. Not very British.
As I put one of them in the full mug for the first time, the water changed its color slowly to a light orange-red.
"I'll try them as well," Y declared. She took one of the tea bags without asking and let it dive into a full thermos flask before she sipped her coffee.
I couldn't care less when she didn't ask for permission. I had given it to her anyway and the cats didn't care about such formalities either.
In addition, Y was born and bred a good person. Solitary but with a heart out of golden kittens.
The only thing that still bothered me was this music. I did a few gestures and signals for Y because I still couldn't see the radio and turn it off by myself, but either Y didn't understand or decided to ignore them. Maybe a mix of both.
I'm not a manipulation queen, so I really would have explained my wish to her if I hadn't been stopped. In the same second I wanted to open my mouth, Y did something extremely untypical for her.
I didn't realize how many years since the last incident happened until she suddenly divorced her lips after a long-lasting marriage. So it felt surprisingly odd as she started a conversation about her life.
All by herself.
"I found a solution for this ramshackle hut. Austin, we can renovate this place."
She cut right to the case and changed my name but even that was high above my expectations. It was at least something. In all the years we had spent together, I couldn't remember one single conversation-starter about herself.
Or such a smile that she kept on her face right now.
"A sponsor called yesterday, and you won't believe how awesome he is! I can't wait to introduce him to you. And you know what? He's visiting me in a few minutes for the first time!"
The universe was kidding me! Six whole freaking sentences in a row.
When I took a closer look, I could even see a slight glow of excitement in her eyes.
As if she had adopted a new kitten.
"Really?" I asked. After all of these emotions, a very late April Fools prank didn't sound like the worst explanation I could think of.
"That's amazing! I'm so glad things turned out like this!"
I wanted to give her a brief hug but backed off in time.
She didn't like it much, and I respected her comfort zone.
The glorious moment dissolved as fast as it had appeared and left nothing but a tight-lipped Y, who abruptly jumped to the next subject.
"X is, by the way, waiting in the guestroom. He's preparing a surprise for your upcoming birthday or something."
"Ah, that's why he wants to meet me here all the time recently?" I had to choke my laughter. "Are you supposed to give me this information?"
"Probably not," she mumbled. "Just don't burst into the room, okay?"
"Of course, don't worry!" I smiled at her, placed my mug on the counter, and immediately climbed the stairs until I reached the second floor.
I really didn't want to spoil his surprise, so I waited in front of the guestroom and knocked gently on the door.
I probably shouldn't have eavesdropped behind the wood. My head definitely hated me after the door swung open.
"Hiiiiiiiiii!! It's so good to see you," X shouted in my face. He was this sort of human being in which sentences you can hear every single punctuation mark. "Wait a moment.. Did you listen?"
I thought I spot panic between two blinks.
"I wouldn't even think of such a thing if my life depended on it," I lied and coughed away my guilt with a sheepish laugh. Fortunately, my little cinnamon puppy swallowed it.
"I really missed you", he muttered in my hair, while he was giving me the squeeze of my life. "Did you already think about a film?"
"What about 17 reasons to get drunk?" I answered without hesitation.
"Umm, why not something that's a bit more. I don't know.. romantic?"
If my senses didn't fool me all at once, I would say that I wasn't the only one who tried to hide something behind a nervous laugh.
"Heaven forbid," I muttered back. "The last time two people were holding hands in a commercial, you turned my T-shirt into an indoor dolphin tank with your tears. I'll never ever watch a damn Rosamunde Pilcher flick with you."
"But every other film was made in Germany, and they didn't even translate them to English," lamented X with his puppy eyes. A powerful weapon but I had years of training behind me.
"Honestly, whenever I take a look at your graduation certificate, I'm sure some extra language lessons won't harm you," I replied mercilessly.
As I've mentioned before, it's hard for me to reject a wish from X.
This rule worked also the other way round.
17 reasons to get drunk, we're coming.
A few minutes later, we already elbowed our way through a marketplace right between the library and the cinema.
The whole trip was a bit more laborious than usual. Since X tripped during a football match, he had to use crutches for a transitional period.
As I was six years old, I broke my leg
In addition, the market was today more than well-visited, and people bumped into us all the time.
"Do you want some bread, children? Some bread?"
An outstanding obtrusive seller bumped into us with a giant basket full of pretzels and other snacks. The dark circles behind her glasses didn't prevent an over-motivated expression.
"Bread. Bread is good for you. Healthy bread."
I put my arm around X's shoulder and slowly pushed him forwards.
"No, thanks. We already had."
Maybe there was some disappointment in the bread woman's eyes but I wasn't completely sure, because I practically pushed X into the cinema with a speed that made me feel Flash's jealousy.
Ten minutes, three popcorn bags, and some hot dogs with extra ketchup later, we sat on our seats. The light of the large screen in front of us illuminated the smiles on our faces.
Fortunately, we were a few minutes too late, so the room went dark after just a few commercials, and the first trailer flickered across the wall.
I leaned back in my chair and grabbed a fistful of popcorn.
The black on the screen turned the hall into sudden silence.
As if a teacher would enter his classroom, every whisper died immediately.
Or more like the silence that you can experience if you're waking up in the middle of the night without a proper reason.
And without a single music note, a couple of letters rushed through the room.
"He is back."
Cut.
Two blue eyes stared through the screen right into my heart.
I knew them. They looked so familiar. Why was everything so dramatic today?
"Autumn 2O17 was only a foretaste."
I didn't remember much from this time... Autumn 2O17.
But I seemed to connect a special someone with it. Someone with aqueous blue eyes and the pale skin that flashed right now through the darkness.
Pale skin and - my hope that my hunch was only a ridiculous theory turned to dust - flame-red hair.
Red, stringy hair that belonged to a familiar smile.
Organs inside me, from which existence I hadn't even know until now, pulled together, as soon as I saw it. His lips seemed to have gotten carved into the face.
Neither really welcoming nor charming.
Just a simple, twisted pair of lips.
"E.S. is back."
There it was. My worst fears all in one spot. Right now. At this moment.
The old couple in the tram, the radio in the library, the sticky lyrics all around me.
This man seemed to haunt me even in the cinema. From which devil do you have to be possessed to make a film about a man who had an incredible hype in 2017 with pale skin, red hair, blue eyes, an extraordinary smile, and the initials E.S.?
I should've known better, should have turned immediately as I heard his song in the morning in the tram. He would have probably haunted me even earlier if I hadn't sold my radio because of an obvious reason.
Way too cheap.
Looking back, this hasn't been my only naîve action.
I became one of these desperate children in the campfire tales. I had believed one could give away a curse. Sell it. Burn it. Even drown it.
If it's about a demonic doll or an omnipresent composer didn't matter.
Within one blink of an eye, I was on my feet. A few dozens of looks gouged themselves into my back as I blocked their view on one edge of the screen.
Maybe it wasn't too late.
Now I could catch up on what I had missed in the tram and turn around. Barricade me at home and hope the curse didn't affect someone else.
X's hand grasped past my sleeve as he tried to stop me. I had already reached the end of our tier and climbed the steps to the exit.
This little green light was my only ray of hope in the world.
The whole room was so muggy, so small. It would have been easy to find me between the few seats.
To assassinate me.
Popcorn stuck itself to my tongue, making the entrance trachea smaller. If I had stumbled right now, I had choked on it.
I didn't want this mush in my stomach. Nothing in conjunction with this horrible trailer should stay. Everything had to go.
During my run, I rubbed almost possessed over my arms and my shoulders, hoping to get rid of the fibers on the red armchairs. They itched, bit trough my pullover into my skin.
It felt like a wonder as the door swung open just like that. Warm, bright daylight blinded me but it was the best feeling since years.
Slowly, my cramped entrails relaxed again.
The tension in my stomach got snapped away by the Thanos of bodily functions.
And I had to choke.
I kicked the restroom door open as fast as possible and fell on my knees. No time to search for a clean toilet. The popcorn rests on my tongue found their way into the washbasin. I shook. Hoped, I could choke out the disgusting feeling inside me. Break free.
Between two stinging breaths and dancing spots in my visual field, I let out pitiable wheezes. My chest raised and fell and bumped again and again into the cold porcelain of the basin.
But even if I stared for an eternity crouched into the black drain, I wasn't able to throw up.
The harrowing feeling stayed in my body, together with wet, sticky coke.
After a time span that felt like ages, my hands disengaged themselves slowly from the edge of the sink and I sank to the floor. Everything was so clean and normal. The trailer felt so far away.
As my nerves finally calmed down, a tired smile appeared almost automatically on my face.
Now I leaned against the wall and realized for the first time how fast my heart had actually been beating.
Of course, the trailer had nothing to do with the well-known singer.
In the year 2017, a giant hype existed around the reboot of a film called "IT".
But we were watching a German film. With German commercials and trailers. And the German title of "IT" happened to be "ES".
The star of the movie was a monster with a creepy smile, red hair, blue eyes, and pale skin. Of course, the similarity between this film and the singer existed only in my head. An overreaction.
It was a simple overreaction.
I should really go home and catch up on the sleep that the pensioners in the tram had stolen from me.
The silence was interrupted by a clash in the hallway.
I almost thought its trigger would walk past the toilets but despite my hopes, X paused at the last moment and knocked with his crutches on the door.
"Are you there?"
I should stop to chat with him at 2 am. The guy knew me too well.
Maybe not good enough in general but still good enough to find me after mental breakdowns in a cinema.
I threw a side glance at the door and saw that the gap had been widened a few inches.
"Do you need help?" X opened the door a bit more as he realized I was cowering fully dressed on the floor.
"Stalker," I whispered loud enough for him to hear it.
X decided to ignore me. "Can I come in?"
He just wanted the best for me. He was one of the most caring people on this planet and that was also the reason why I almost ripped my own heart apart as I shook my head.
"Rather not." No wonder that my performance didn't really convince him.
"Then come at least out of the bath, if you can. I'll bring you home."
"No need to. Enjoy the movie."
I would be annoyed in his place, but X stayed, still deciding if he wanted to respect my wish or try to help me. "Could you at least tell me why you ran away? I can help you, trust me!"
Before he could come any closer, I pulled myself up on the basin. The black spots in my visual field doubled and let me practically wobble against the door. I pressed it shut with my body and X had to step back.
"Don't. Come. In." I repeated so harsh that I had to add a "please" for the sake of our friendship. Suddenly, I was more certain than ever.
Just now, I had calmed myself down. If X with his black, angled glasses and the chequered button-down shirt would come too close, I wouldn't see my home healthy.
And also, I knew him too well. Had noticed how much ketchup he had dropped on his hotdog. Maybe I had been able to ignore this fact before, but now I stood at the edge of my next realization. It would hit me mercilessly until I would lay unconscious in a boxing ring.
"I step back now." X loud voice sounded through the closed door. "I'll even go back to the film if you want me to. But please; please promise to go home without any incident. No foolishnesses, do you understand me? We need you."
"Yes," I answered a bit relieved. "Thanks. I have to get my tea bags in the library, but after that, I'll go home, immediately."
"Do you think you can do it?" X tried once again.
"Everything is as fine as it can be," I yelled through the closed door. "Go back to your seat!"
"But you're actually the reason why I agreed to watch this film."
"Just pretend I'm there, okay?"
Pretend I am a normal human without breakdowns or the feeling of being haunted by a famous celebrity.
I finally pulled the door open and saw X already standing at the end of the hallway.
There were about three feet between us. Running was a safe option. He was too slow with his crutches.
I made a big step into the hallway, throwing a glance back at him.
"I'm sorry," I shouted, and the shaking in my body influenced my vocal cords.
"But I lied to you as we were standing in front of the guest room." My tongue felt heavy and useless. "I know about your birthday surprise."
Now he realized it too.
"I heard how you tried to play a song for me on your new guitar."
"Yes, that's true."
Idiot. He made two steps forward. I took two away from him.
"It's kind of you," I assured, while I was constantly moving backward. He was the most innocent, kindest, and loveliest idiot I had ever seen in my life.
"But the problem is not even the song."
I needed only another step to reach the door so I would be able to escape and disappear in the cold.
"You already know how to play the piano. These two instruments... it's... too much. You know who plays them as well, don't you?"
"Sure," he muttered. The sudden revelation changed his facial features. Probably, he didn't notice how he took two steps into my direction again.
"It's all about Ed Sheeran."
I chose a quick and painless exit, keeping the drama as small as possible, and pulled the door shut after I had slipped through it.
I would like to say that the snow was now the only thing around me.
But I had learned something during my stay at the cinema.
Ed Sheeran was always there.
Not because Ed Sheeran was everywhere.
More because everything was Ed Sheeran.
Everything was a variable.
The snow was a variable.
X was a variable.
Y was a variable.
A variable was just a letter that stood for Ed Sheeran.
The snow, X, and Y.
They all were Ed Sheeran.
This time, I noticed the light red touch in the -what I had thought of as blond- hair of the bread woman.
Or should I say in the hair of Ed Sheeran?
"Do you want some ketchup, child? Some ketchup?" Ed Sheeran asked me and I tried my best to sidestep her.
"No, thanks."
As fast as I could without slaughtering my feet, I ran forwards, bumping into the next Ed Sheeran. He held a whole basket full of red bottles.
"Some ketchup? Ketchup is good for you. Healthy ketchup."
"I heard if you consume enough ketchup you won't die too early," the other Ed Sheeran added, keeping a dangerous undertone in his voice. He pressed the basket against my back, but I could literally hear the devilish sparkle in his eyes.
"I.. already had," was my lousy try to talk myself free.
The circle became tighter and tighter. A swarm of vultures; bloodthirsty sharks, kettling their wounded prey.
My negotiation skills didn't serve me anymore.
Two Ed Sheerans fell to the ground as I summoned all my strength and burst out of the crowd with a scream.
Straight to the Ed Sheeran library.
To get my Ed Sheeran tea bags.
I ran how I had never run before. The cold Ed Sheerab air stung in my lung, but I could run at least.
Without staring again at the house number with the seventeen, I banged at the door with both of my fists. I had already discovered the meaning of the number.
It was the current date.
Seventeenth.
17th of February.
The Florida man pointed a laser at a helicopter and got arrested on a seventeenth February.
On Ed Sheeran's birthday.
A nightmare.
Ed Sheeran opened reliably as always, but this time, I was the one who slammed the door shut before she could say anything. The walls were of course still old and flawed like before. The bricks shined through the holes in the plaster and of course, they were also a variable.
Gonna pick up the pieces and build a Lego House
I ran immediately to the kitchen where the music still played. Of course, it was the same goddamn music like the one in the tram.
I'm on my way
Driving at ninety down those country lanes
Singing to "Tiny Dancer"
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it's real
Too real.
"Tell your stupid radio to shut up," I cried through the room. I still couldn't find it. The planet had turned against me. The whole universe seemed to adore Ed Sheeran. Seemed to be him.
I grabbed the Ed Sheeran ginger tea bags and threw them in my backpack. Maybe everything had gone well if Ed Sheeran hadn't done something very untypical again.
She didn't only start a conversation by herself. Now she made even physical contact.
Voluntary. Or perhaps it was another point on the universe's checklist to crush me out.
Ed stopped me by grabbing my wrist, keeping anxiety in her eyes.
And they scream
The worst things in life come free to us
"Where's the radio?" I sounded more desperate than ever.
Ed Sheeran shook her head. "I already thought in the morning you were kidding me."
"Why should I make jokes? I don't want to hear this music anymore!"
Ed Sheeran took a deep breath and held constant eye contact, trying to find out if I was making fun of her before she said the next sentence.
"I don't have a radio."
"But.."
Why became the music even louder? Why did I want to cover my ears if Ed wouldn't hold my hand?
One tone after another pattered on my eardrum, pressing it down, hoping to reach my brain.
"I still have to introduce you to my new sponsor," Ed picked up the subject from before. She strengthened the pressure around my wrist and started to pull me into the hallway of the library.
I didn't want to, I didn't want to. Every tiny hair on my skin rebelled against it.
But the whole day made me weak while Ed had spent her time in her comfort zone. I had been the naîve idiot I am, giving her my precious Ed Sheeran ginger tea bags. Now she was obviously strengthened and could drag me up the stairs. I wasn't a real resistance.
Just a fragile marionette and someone had cut my threads in two.
"He's such a great fan of cats, you won't believe it," Ed Sheeran said way too excited, knocking at the door at the end of the stairs.
"Mr. Sheeran, we're coming in!"
She dragged me on the last step and pulled at the doorknob.
The whole hallway got illuminated with light as the door swung open, revealing a sudden brightness.
Because the sponsor stood directly in front of the light source, his whole figure glowed up.
I'm in love with the shape of you
It almost looked like a gloriole surrounded his red hair. A crown of light, making his skin even paler than in the video clips.
The brightness was definitely not the only reason why I screw up my eyes.
I didn't believe this.
How should I describe this in words?
It's unrealistic. Impossible.
Why stood Ed Sheeran in front of me?
Not a variable.
Not one of the hallucinations or Fata Morganas, produced by my panicking and sleep-deprived brain. Every hair of his beard looked too similar for a doppelganger.
There was, without a doubt, Ed Sheeran in the middle of the room.
Ed Sheeran stood in the same house as me, and this was the exact moment when I realized the universe was just wrong.
Too real. This amount of realness couldn't be real.
What's the point?
I had always been a normal human like everyone else. This incredible star and I didn't have anything in common. I didn't win tickets for a meet and greet and definitely didn't bake muffins to coax him. Usually, there were thousands of miles between us.
Despite every fact I had ever heard in my life, he stood here.
I shook my head slowly, not even realizing how Ed Sheeran stopped holding my wrist and pushed me further towards Mr. Sheeran.
"Hi, nice to meet you."
So these were the first words that an international celebrity said to me.
As if it was a regular conversation. As if I hadn't discovered that the universe was obviously not real.
That everything revolved around Mr. Sheeran. That my whole life was a joke.
Mr. Sheeran seemed to notice the paleness on my face.
"Is everything okay? Do you need anything to drink?"
I shook my head again.
No, no. Obviously, I didn't need anything anymore.
The universe had lied to me all the time. Was it even true that I needed water to survive? Or was that also a hilarious joke?
I turned my head around, avoiding to see more Ed Sheeran and saw where all the brightness came from.
One of the walls was just a giant glass door with a balcony behind it. The light of the uprising morning sun was covered by a few grey clouds, which spread a light snow rain over the city, but it still blinded me. Every single ice splinter reflected the white rays, letting all the color fade.
"I don't feel so..." I had to choose another start to avoid an infinity war reference.
"I'm not okay."
Mr. Sheeran wanted to come closer.
Exactly like Ed Sheeran's variable a few minutes ago in the cinema. With the same glance. It had been an overreaction.
Was this now also one? Did I lose touch with reality, becoming unconscious in a few minutes?
The whole earth spun under my feet. Usually, a regular person couldn't feel this. But one of the most popular musicians of our time stood in front of me. Obviously, I wasn't a normal person anymore.
I felt the clouds moving as well over my head.
And the whole planet around the sun.
Around Mr. Sheeran.
The whole universe spun around.
Mr. Sheeran came closer, keeping a more anxious expression than before on his face.
I grabbed a paper stack on one of the tables and threw it across the room. Hundreds of sheets flew over our heads.
And if you're broken I'll mend ya
And keep you sheltered from the storm that's raging on
The paper whirled around, giving me enough time to reach the glass door.
Even as all of them eventually fell to the ground, and I already touched the doorknob, there were still lyrics flying through the room.
It was hard to focus on the approaching Mr. Sheeran and the text at the same time, but the longer I listened, the more I understood.
I had been warned since the beginning.
I'm on my way...
Wait for me to come home...
No threat could be more obvious. The universe was fulfilling its promise.
But the next lyrics seemed to show more of my point of view.
I don't love you, baby,
I don't need you, baby,
I don't want you no
You need me, I don't need you
I wanted to escape. Be free. I could live my life and Mr. Sheeran his.
Especially now, living didn't feel that easy. Instead of living, I had to fight for air.
But there was no air left.
The music filled my lung, leaving no space for oxygen. I was drowning like a fish without water. I needed air.
Fresh, clean air!
I had to go outside, come what may.
I see fire burning a tree
A sudden heat made sweat stream down my face. It was certainly cold enough outside. There was Ed Sheeran snow.
I pulled the glass door open and heard immediately a scream from Mr. Sheeran and Ed Sheeran at the same time.
"NO," Ed shouted. "Don't do this! You can't go outside!"
My glance floated between the two executioners. Was this a trap? Of course! But I couldn't read it in their blue eyes. Especially not if my own ones felt themselves with water.
Until our eyes meet and you'll never be alone
I never wanted to be alone so much in my life.
I had to escape or drown. The music entered my lung through violence. I gasped but there were just more and more tones. A cough made tears join the streaming sweat.
A wind gust from outside grabbed my hair -the only not red hair in the universe- and threw it over my eyes. It mixed with the brine on my skin and restricted my vision even more.
When you said you looked a mess, I whispered underneath my breath
But you heard it, darling, you look perfect tonight
"Don't move any further! Just stay calm, I'll help you," Mr. Sheeran said, reaching his arms out to me. "Everything will be fine." He expected me to stop and everything to go well.
But he didn't understand at all. Nobody seemed to even try.
I was suffocating. I needed oxygen, not music, or a stupid embrace.
Why couldn't anyone see that I only had to get some fresh air?
Mr. Sheeran almost touched my arm, but I backed off quickly and stood now on the balcony.
The cold air welcomed me and I finally felt the fresh wind on my skin again.
Just a second before I heard the cruel clicking noise and the ground producing multiple cracks.
Of course, it had been a terrible idea to step on the balcony. The house had been damaged for years. This part here was at risk to collapse; I should have known.
Mr. Sheeran was naive as well. Thought he could save me. He jumped into the frame of the glass door, reaching out to me.
"Please, take my hand!"
These were the last words a famous celebrity would ever say to me.
The floor broke off, I fell, my back towards the abyss, and a wind gust finally blew the hair out of my face.
The last thing that I would see was Mr. Sheeran, standing on the edge and reaching a hand out to me. The universe made him grab the air and I fell two floors deep straight onto the street.
As I was six years old I broke my leg
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