I’ll Wait For You

“I assure you I’m not associated with any mafia either,” Kostya added, “Just some annoying relatives.”

“Oh, do you get on well with your family or not then?” Catrina asked, sending them all down the rabbit hole. Kostya was as honest as he had explained to Elinor, and she watched everyone at the table with a warm glow inside, relaxing as she sipped her elderflower.

She still didn’t know where the future led, how soon and easy it would be to come up with the lyrics again. She had longer before sick leave ended, but the slow recuperation of events, and the negativity that scratched at her from being rushed to the hospital, from finding out the things that were truly wrong with her body, became less.

The graveyard in her mind, with the bones and the blood and the cries that unsettled her, and made her feel the throb of hollowness in her stomach area, haunted her dreams less. She didn’t know if she would be fully free of the issue for a while, but with such wonderful people sat at her side, who reached out their arms when she stumbled and fell, the glass became half-full, rather than half-empty.

Life doesn’t end, just because you receive some bad news. Or because others don’t want you. It’s not all about pain, or running, or doubting. There’s nice things, too, and it’s bad to forget about those.

Richard Strong ventured over to their table, and gave a curt nod to Elinor and Kostya. “Hello. I’m glad to see you’re well,” Richard said. He placed a small, wrapped parcel on the table in front of Elinor. “It might not seem like much, but I truly am grateful for the time you’ve spent here with us.” He gave another nod to Kostya, then backed off, leaving the others to stare at the gift.

“Let’s see…” Elinor peeled it open, revealing to her entertainment a laser pointer, a small bag of catnip, and a delicately crafted fountain pen with several ink cartridges. “Wow! This is actually awesome.” She held up the brown and black fountain pen with the silver-tipped nib, pleased, because she’d never owned one before. She caught her former boss’s eye for a moment, and they exchanged smiles.

“How did he know you have a cat?” Tina said, amazed. “I thought you stopped speaking to him after you left.”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“I told him,” Kostya said. “He was looking for something to get you. He didn’t know about you being taken to hospital, of course.”

This mystified Elinor. “Why were you talking to him? I mean, I like this, but I can’t see why you… would?”

Kostya merely smiled.

The red curtains of the stage began to roll aside – revealing the five band members of Stolen Heart behind it, already positioned with their instruments. Gasps and cries of shock and joy came from the tiny audience – Stolen Heart were taking the charts by storm, and didn’t seem like they would be the sort of band to be found in a tiny venue.

“They’re here!” Andrew said stupidly. “I need autographs!”

Kostya suppressed a bout of laughter, even as Elinor figured out why Kostya had been talking to her manager. “Seriously.”

“They wanted to pay tribute to you in the place where you were discovered,” Kostya said, with a shrug. “And Richard Strong was very accommodating on the matter.”

“Was he, now?” Elinor beamed from ear to ear, immensely flattered by the treatment she received from Kostya, her friends, her former manager and now the band members of Stolen Heart. She still didn’t feel as though she deserved it, but she wasn’t about to turn it aside, not when everyone around her acted so happy, so proud of where she was and what she did.

“Hey,” Arina said into the microphone, voice ringing through the establishment, “We’re here tonight to pay tribute to a very special lady, one who is sitting in the audience with us now.”

The petite blonde winked at Elinor and pointed, causing everyone to swivel their heads, stare, then cheer. It made Elinor flush bright red, but keep grinning behind her palm.

“Without her, we would have never had the album, and she’s been a great inspiration and motivation for our music. As a token of our appreciation, we’re singing the song she sang in Velocity Café, that brought her to us.”

Arina launched into a rendition of Still Dreams, her soothing, ethereal voice permeating the room, followed by soft and sad piano playing, a melody reminiscent of a song by Birdy, Not About Angels. Listening to the tiny blonde sing made Elinor’s eyes all watery again, and ask for a tissue to blow her nose in.

They played seven more songs after that, taking up a good hour of the evening, with short pauses between songs.

Elinor’s parents sat there, basking in the music, as proud as kings, constantly taking the time to compliment Elinor, to hug her, and in Catrina’s case, to cry for an embarrassing amount of time.

“Don’t fu*k this up,” Tina said to Elinor, before the band had launched into their final song of the evening. “You have a man who loves you, a band who loves you, a bunch of friends and family who love you – and a ball of fluff who loves you. I think. That could be debatable. This,” Tina said fiercely, pressing her palm against where the healing stitch marks of the operation were, “does not define you as someone cursed. It is nothing to be ashamed of. It does not make you unlovable, or unable to find happiness. You don’t need to keep being plagued by those nightmares.”

Elinor nodded, gulping back uneasy emotions. “I know.”

After the band finished playing, they all joined Elinor’s group, dragging chairs and tables to make more room, introduce themselves, and sign a round of autographs from the watching audience and even from Richard Strong himself.

In fact, the only person who didn’t seek an autograph was Karen, and Elinor felt certain she didn’t out of some misguided sense of pride and dignity, as if coming over to where Elinor was would be like admitting defeat.

It’s not about winning and losing. It’s about making sure that you don’t allow your thoughts to drag you to the dark places, when dark things happen.

Later on that night, Kostya joined Elinor in bed, having finished brushing his teeth. Both had showered together, in one of the few times they’d not made it s*xual, and more about washing each other’s backs, and treating one another with reverence.

In the comfortable sateen sheets, Elinor faced Kostya, who wore nothing but his boxers, and lured him in with his scent, that besotted her, that made her feel that she would be happy just to lie next to him forever.

“I think I made a good impression on everyone,” Kostya said smugly. They both heard a scratching outside, knowing it was the kitten, and Elinor briefly got up to see what the kitten wanted.

Valentine wanted attention. That was all. She also wanted to peer in and see what her humans were doing, and Elinor compensated by giving her some extra food, and keeping the bedroom door ajar, before worming back into bed, and Kostya’s warmth.

“Sorry. Yes. My mother adored you. She was so angry at me for not being detailed about what you looked like.”