Chapter 28

5.4K 159 216
                                    

I sent my dad off to join the rest of them, telling him that I simply needed to take care of something radio related, which I guess I should be presenting my actual show right now, but I have something I need to do. I sprinted down the corridor and rushed passed people, shouting apologies in their direction.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your show right now?” Someone, whose face I didn’t catch, and a voice I couldn’t place hollered at me, readjusting the stack of papers in their hands.

“Why do you think I’m running!?” I yelled back, turning the corner.

I looked down at my feet while I ran, a patch of gauze was still covering my tattoo. I burst into the bathroom and gently removed the tape keeping the patch on my ankle and threw it away in the bin. My tattoo has a different meaning to me now. At first it was in defiance of my Dad, telling him basically that where he was, was no longer home, but here was, and the outline of Idaho is just reminding me of where I came from.

I traced the simple black lines with my index finger, smiling as I did so, I bet if someone walked in on my right now I would probably look like some sort of leg pervert.

Now, I want it to symbolize both of them equally, as equals. Yes, living here in London is far better than living in Idaho ever was. Now that I look back, there are a lot of things I miss about Idaho. One is the train tracks that new neighbors would always complain about during dinner that my mom invited them too, I would always smile and say “You get used to it,” because it’s true, some nights you might wake up to the sound of the train whistle but after a couple of months it stops. I always enjoyed getting stopped by a train when I was driving somewhere, I liked looking at the graffiti, some of it was ugly and done quickly, others were done with great detail and effort, those ones I always found strangely beautiful.

The pink and blue clouds that littered the sky after it rained in June, all the sunrises and sun sets, the whole sky itself, the stars were always visible and shining brightly. The dairy farm, the cornfields, the fourwheelers that rode down the street in our neighborhood in the evening after dinner time, my neighbor’s flower garden, the little kids across the street I used to babysit, the girl down the street who used to babysit me, they were all things I missed.

There were lots of great things here too though, not really anything like Idaho though. Here I have the midnight tube rides after getting dinner or particularly long radio meetings, the view I have out my bedroom window of the sun setting. Breakfast with Dan and Phil almost every morning, watching anime with Dan and Phil, having Phil push me in the cart at the grocery store when I make him go with me, basically just Dan and Phil themselves. There are a lot of things I love about where I am now, and I’m sure there are a lot of things I’m going to like about wherever I end up next but right now, I’m exactly where I need to be and I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I rushed into the studio out of breath from running around in the hallways, I run up to the microphone and slid the headphones pushing Dan and Phil out of the way playfully. The producers on the other side of the room shook their heads disapprovingly, just like every other show and pointed towards the soundboard as I realized the song was over. I stood on my tip toes to reach the microphone because for some reason, whenever I came it was always adjusted for giants like Dan and Phil.

“You’re listening to Baylee Prinam on BBC Radio One and that was Fireworks with Arrows.” I took a deep breath in still trying to catch my breath, “For the next two hours the BBC has given me control just like every Monday, to bring you all the Alternative music you request, whether it’s texted in or tweeted or even facebooked, you have the power, just like Ameryn on Facebook did when she wanted to listen to Asking Alexandria The Last Episode, this one is for Ameryn.” I turned off the mic and set down my headphones, I began to adjust the mic for my height but soon gave up and glared at it, waiting for someone else to fix it, Phil wandered over noticing my struggles.

I Promise, I'm Not a Stalker.Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora