102 Old Song New

Crash (a few minutes earlier)

Singing her the new song—the old song that she's never heard—singing it to her, being myself, opening up, it's drained me. And the crowd can see it. As they lose their minds so the roof trembles and my bone vibrate, I let my head sink into my hands. 

It's too much. She's inside me. A part of me. I'd spent so many months working up to this night, but not knowing if she's even heard me, not knowing where she is—the fact that she might have texted Tommy, but not me. It's eating me alive. 

I can't stay away from her anymore. I just can't. 

Fuck.

I was so determined to let her come back to me. To not push. But they chant her name and it calls me because she's the part of me that's been missing for too long.

I can't stay away anymore. I know that now. 

So with a shake of my head, I adjust the mic and look directly into the camera. 

"Kelly, if you're listening… I'm coming for you."