"Remember when you were young, you shone like the sun." - Pink Floyd

PROLOGUE

It was another worthless night for her trying to get some sleep. She was losing a battle against her deteriorated soul. All she wanted was her peace back that had disappeared long ago. However Sylvia knew it would take so much of her own strength, and everyone else’s, for their lives to get back on track. Could they ever be the same again? She honestly didn’t know and she was afraid she was losing what was left of her faith. From that moment on, she simply assumed that not knowing what was coming next would hurt less.

The chaotic London traffic outside didn’t even come close to bothering her at that time. Those people running to somewhat step in time with their lives would never understand the chaos she was living in the bubble she was trapped in. That wasn’t her place, a place that was becoming more and more bleak by the second. It wasn’t his place either, even if he was the one who paid for the enormous space and for the furniture in an attempt to give the house a cozy feeling. Yet it was everything but cosy, warm and comfortable; the feeling that emanated from its core was far from being welcoming. It was actually close to being frozen.

The plain grey walls were a reflection of what he had become. The huge, empty, dusty shelves indicted the awards that used to be there, but they were gone in a sudden. There were tons of them from all of the unimaginable places. Such awards that proved not only how much they had accomplished, but also how hard they worked for their premature prodigy. Now, they were all missing.

"One Direction, ladies and gentlemen," they said, "you will watch these five boys conquer the world".

By that time they had realized how expensive the price they were paying for such a surreal triumph, making her constantly wonder if she had made the best decision on following their steps. Their voices were muted by the unexpected doom these boys never learned to deal with, but something so harsh and awful that had taken over the best of them. 

Sylvia felt herself being dragged into a reality that wasn’t her own, but she couldn’t help it. Even if she would like to, she couldn’t. The stages, spotlights, the mobs, and the success were all easily blown away, like the smoke from the cigarette between her fingers. Not even the smoke released from her lips could last long enough - it was already engulfed by the grey British morning. In that moment, only the unpleasant solitude was left for her. 

“It just helps me escape.”

Oh boy, he had been trying to escape from himself, but everything seemed to be stuck in a melancholic cage in which there were no more spotlights and no more appreciation. Nothing would let him go that easily, and she knew how much it was infecting her, but maybe there was no strength that remained inside to set her free. She didn’t belong there, but there was still a struggle accepting that.

He never asked her to stay. She didn’t know why she was there, she clearly hadn’t had a reason to be and actually she should be the last one to be there with him. Yet she couldn’t drag herself to leave any time soon. It was just one of the things she stopped asking herself why as it continued to be remained unanswered. What was actually haunting her in every sleepless night was the emptiness between them both that never failed to grow bigger, deeper and sadder. She couldn’t bear the feeling of being so alone in such misery due to his spiritual absence.

Sylvia would have run away once she felt the very first pain, hurt, regret, or deception, but she couldn’t. The words Sean and his hopeful spirit had once stated, in their attempt to collapse all of the thick walls she had built around herself after everything she had been through, were still buzzing in her mind.

“There’s a great reason for us to be living. It’s about giving a little bit of ourselves to other people.”

Maybe it was just supposed to be. Maybe it was her fate, letting him rely on her until he could again walk with his own two feet. But she was so tired, so broken. It was an internal fight, back and forth, and she was never ready for this. Once she thought she was, but then again some forces beyond her control proved just how wrong she was. Whenever things seemed to be getting better, their castles crashed down all over again and the bricks were starting to become much heavier than she could ever handle. She was simply hanging on in a quiet desperation whilst their time together was getting shorter. It was slowly killing him, slowly killing her.

Her pride? Forget about her pride, who needed it anyway? Not even the fresh brewed coffee she missed the most and the cold and rainy breeze of London were enough to bring some warmth back into her heart. She didn’t ask for much, but a mere tip of hope and maybe, just maybe, a genuine embrace from him, just like the ones they unexpectedly shared backstage or whenever they felt like it. There was still a need to be with him, to feel him, to fix all of the things they had never had time to do before the worst happened. But she wanted that to bring him back to life, to her life; and to bring her back to her own life as well.

The British breeze, she quickly learned to love, had cooled her coffee, just like the last couple weeks had done to her. She knew somehow she needed to shut herself away, otherwise she would be effected by something too unbearable for her own sanity – little did she know how effected she had already been. Her show needed to go on, but she didn’t even know how to make the next step without him.

The previous night had shown her she needed to keep herself strong. There were still four other boys that would never think twice before giving him their own life, but they were equally hurt, equally vanishing in a short matter of time. They weren’t the ones sharing each and every day with him to know how did it feel. She was insistently trying to give him some life, even if it meant losing a bit of her own every time he needed her hand to hold. After all, the true reason why she still insisted on being there was to carry not only herself, but him and to light what little hope was still left in him.

She was afraid of the fact he was slowly deteriorating, fading away in front of her eyes and losing his uniqueness, the shine he emanated whenever he was on the stage, the things that made him special. If it wasn’t for the fact he had showed her so greatly all the things he was made of, she would never be there, worried for what the future was holding for him. He had become her boy and she couldn’t help caring for him because at one time, he made her feel alive, even though that moment lasted too little. Even if that meant hearing his unstable snoring being her daily dose of happiness whilst she watched him sleeping soundly in that huge bed.

Although drowned in so much sorrow, she couldn’t help the little smile that curled her lips every time she watched him in that deep sleep. That was the very moment his face softened from the strains and the sullen visage he had got over time, giving him back the purest and childish semblance. She loved not only all of his features, but everything he meant for her.

They learnt so well how to switch glances from the stages and sing along the same songs, and she missed that; she missed him. He had become such a huge part of her day and the new life she was still getting to know. It wasn’t an abrupt encounter, he didn’t really open all of her doors and step into her life pretending to be the one and only for her, but it happened to be someone that was always there for her, no matter what.

Two cigarettes in a row were gone and a louder snore from him caught her back to reality, soon making her leave her spot. Slowly she got inside the bedroom and closed the curtains, leaving only a tiny strip of daylight washing the room. She approached the bed in baby steps and lowered her body over him, placing a soft kiss on his warm temple and covering his bare torso with the sheets.

She made her way into the hollow lounge room, glancing around and finding what was left from last night and before. Her favorite spot of the house was still there, that time used as a stand for bottles, glasses and all sprinkled with ashes. Placing herself over the red seat, she dusted the cigarette ash off of the piano’s ivory and slowly started pressing the keys, touching them in the same way a feather would touch her skin.

The chords that had been her daily escape from that world combined perfectly with the words, echoing through the open space as her fragile voice hummed the perfect lines. The lines that weren’t only the best description for their lives in that moment, but the lines there also meant to give them a little faith and hope. It was just a girl trying to give sound to all the things she couldn’t say.

Her voice suddenly crashed as an unbearable lump locked her throat, forbidding her once flawless gift to dance along with the air surrounding her, breaking its sound, to be her only relief for that moment. Her eyes settled down to the keys and her heart-pounded heavy, as she struggled to hold back her tears that seemed to be a lost battle. Everything was just too much for her and not even time was doing its work to heal what hurts the most.

She couldn’t do anything for herself. For that moment, she was only trying to save him from himself.

“Now there's a look in your eyes, like black holes in the sky.”