I.  Rubbish.

Abi despised mathematics. Ashley lived by it, and it drove Abi insane. Calculating probability…chances, rather than taking risks. That wasn’t Abi’s style.

To be honest, Abi despised her roommate more than math itself.

The apartment that Abi and Ashley shared was small. It was the best they could afford in University.  A two bedroom, connected by a common room that contained two sofas, a tele, a DVD player, and a small coffee table which guests would write upon.

“Had a great summer with you, hobag. –Casey K.”

Further back was a bathroom and half-kitchen: a sink, stove, microwave, and tiny refrigerator. It was home.

Her neighbor, Casey, was always popping in. Half the scribbling on the table were his drawings. Talented bloke. Today he stood in the doorway to her room, propping himself up with the frame, black disheveled hair, eyes closed, face cradled in his palm.

“Abi. What is it this time? Calculus?” She nodded solemnly to his inquisition. He sighed half-hearted, “Cor, Abi. You should take a break.  Uni’s gonna eat that pretty little brain.”

Abi laughed, pulling back her red hair into a ponytail, “Case, I only have one more problem. It’s taken me hours to do this much, I better finish it before I procrastinate it to never. Besides, it’s not even 5:30. We’ll get caught if we go tagging this early.” She glanced at the lithe figure in the door and continued to scratch her pencil on the notebook, defining the limit in question.

“Well, if you don’t mind, I have to piss.”

Exit Casey.  Pencil scrawled Abigail Brightham. Standing, she wrapped her hooded sweatshirt around her shoulders, closed her books and looked outside the window. Perfect, warm. Soon, Abi and Casey were barreling down the stairwell, skateboards knocking together, palms dusting down the handrails. Laughter.

“So, Casey. What’s new?” Abi chomped on an apple as they walked down the streets of Ridgewell. Casey shrugged his response, mouth full of processed sugar, a bag of Lorna Dunes under his arm. “You always had a way with words, Case.”

“I’m a genius,” he chuckled, bits of cookie and spit flinging from his mouth to the pavement. And quite the charmer too.

Hanging around the playground was normal for the two. Being in University didn’t mean they were too old for swings. The children played on, ignoring the two, who were currently placing bets. Abi pumped her legs harder to swing higher, “If I jump farther than you, we tag the bank building. If you jump farther, the starter school.”

Casey swung up, and launched from his seat, flying over the heads of two toddlers in the sand, and landing at the edge of the lot, “Deal.” Abi furiously started swinging, before closing her eyes. The feeling of being midair was surreal. A rush of adrenaline ran through her as she felt weightless. Her eyelids slowly flickered open to see a little kid running away as she landed on the sidewalk beyond the edge of the lot. Her legs felt like rubber as her shoes impacted the ground, her wobbling to get her standpoint. She opened her eyes fully and finally noticed where she was situated, throwing her arms up in victory.

“Take that, Case!” She smirked, fist in the air, “To the bank!”

“We’ve still got an hour or two until it’s time,” Casey smirked, getting his backpack and grabbing out a Twinkie to shove in his mouth. Abi sighed and walked over to the bench, hopping over its back to sit. She watched the kids running around, probably going to break a bone or something. What kids should do.

“Here,” Casey handed over a sketch to Abi, “This is what we’re going to be doing. But somehow we gotta buy the cans without suspicion.”

“Cope?” Abi choked, “You’re big idea is ‘Cope’. Bah! You’re losing your touch.” She tossed the picture back, “What happened to all the old stuff. They seemed to have a message that mattered. This is the 90s, stupid. Get with the times.”

Nightfall came fast. The sound of wheels echoed in the alleyways to the carpark. Screeching to a halt, they threw the hooks to the flat roof. There was another roof higher up on the building, which meant there was wall space to cover when they got up there. They tossed up their bags, and began to climb the wall. Once up, Casey began to dismantle the security cameras. But he noticed that had already been done before they arrived…

“Case, somebody beat us to it.” Abi pointed to the wall they so admired, covered in a red and black ‘Modern Life is Rubbish.’ “See, Case. I told you. That’s got merit. I’d like to meet the guy that did th- woah.”

II.  Starshaped

The tag was signed. Dan Abnormal. The light flickered in Abi’s eyes, smiling profoundly, “Case! I knew I recognized that style!” She pointed Casey’s eyes to the white, and Casey began to shake.

They were in the presence of the tag of the gods.

Dan Abnormal was a fantastic artist. He was known all over the underground graffiti route. Hell, in England, he may have been the most popular artist in the streets. But no one knew exactly what he looked like, who he was, and what he did to pay for all this paint. Abi looked up to his work. And now…

“Hello down there!”

She was most likely looking up at him. The figure jumped off of the higher roof beside Abi, in the light now so she could see what he looked like. Short choppy red hair, piercing in the left ear, tribal necklace, white tee, soft looking lips, slender frame…. She was astounded. She looked at his eyes, a beautiful brown. “You’re Dan Abnormal, aren’t you?”

Casey was silent, standing by the dismantled camera, watching Abi choke on her words to the figure before her. He just smiled, a wide grin, full of personality, “You found me out, eh? Well, don’t tell anyone, but my name’s really not Dan.” He looked back and forth and laughed, wholeheartedly, before dancing around in a circle.

“You’re a looney, that’s what’s for,” Casey sighed, sitting down on the roof. He smiled, and watched Dan stop spinning, and glance his way. The boy was full of energy- that was one thing that could be said. Dan immediately jumped up and down until he fell and sat cross-legged across from Casey.

 “You’re Case Klosed. I know your work.” He then lay down on his back, “It used to be pretty good. I drew some influence from your stuff. But you probably knew that.” He traced the stars with his fingers and watched Abi walk over to stand above him, looking down at him. She couldn’t help but seem starstruck. This was her idol, after all.

“You like our stuff?”

“And you’re his partner, Graham, aren’t you? Hah. I have a friend named Graham. What a wacky coincidence,” He chuckled, “You’re prettier than he is.” He began to sing a song to himself. Something about some mundane routine he had. He took a paper from his pocket and held it up for Abi to take, before getting up and jumping from the roof. He turned to look back and motioned an air kiss towards the two before doing so; he tumbled as he hit the ground, and then ran.

“What a strange guy,” Casey sighed, getting up from the ground.

Abi just held the paper in her hands, “’Cardboard Club. 3/9/92. 23:00.’ That’s tomorrow isn’t it? Next to the Turtle pub. We should go!” Casey said something about an early morning class and someone being psycho, but Abi ignored it.

“You coming, grump?” she sighed, grabbing her things and walking to the edge of the roof. Should she jump? She thought about it for a while. Dan did it and survived. But he seemed just as his name mentioned- abnormal. Maybe inhuman. Instead she slid down the ropes with Casey close behind before skating back to her apartment.

 

“You were out late,” Ashley sighed, “What building was it this time?”

Abi threw her stuff into her room before grabbing a coke from the fridge, “None.” She then threw herself onto her bed, throwing her shoe to slam her bedroom door.

Ashley winced at the slam, “Bullocks.”

 

III. Leisure

The club was seedy. Greasy haired people lined the floor, greedy, shoving, beers in everyone’s hands, most smoking.  Abi coughed and made way through the crowd until she saw someone she could talk to without fearing her life- and this girl happened to be in the very front of the crowd, “Excuse me, but who exactly is playing here tonight?” She waved her hand in front of her nose to ward away whatever smoke she could, and glanced around at the stage.

“Some band called Blur. They’ve never played in Ridgewell, I know this to be a fact,” she sighed, looking around, “but I hear they’re pretty new. I hope it’s a good show.”

“Me too,” Abi sighed, frantically looking around for any sign of Dan.

The girl looked at Abi like she had three heads, “Looking for someone?”

Abi looked back at her companion, wishing that Casey had come along, “Yeah. If you see a guy with red hair that’s wearing a tribal necklace and red Dr. Martens, please let me know.”

The band was already out at this point, the crowd freaking out and pushing forward. Abi looked to her left. A boy in a striped shirt and thick black rimmed glasses on guitar. To the right, a boy with greasy mop-like hair, smoking and tuning a bass. A tiny redhead at the drums. The singer was nowhere to be found at the moment. She kept looking around shortly after, hoping to see a familiar face.

“Miss…. Miss…. MISS!” The girl pushed Abi’s shoulder, “Is that the man you were looking for. Abi looked up to see red Dr. Martens staring her in the face. She looked further up, and Dan Abnormal stood with a microphone in his hand.

“Hey motherfuckers. How are you doing tonight?”

Bass line.

He started walking across the stage, a finger to his lips, bobbing his head. And then he started twitching. Then jumping. Then flailing so close to the edge of the stage, he could have fallen on top of Abi at any moment. The band continued playing as if nothing was happening to the man, dancing about the stage. All of a sudden he stopped.

And he sang.

And it sounded like a chorus of punker angels was taking over Abi’s ears. The guitar from the man beside him ripped through her ears. Before long, Dan was doing a headstand on the amp, the man behind him smoking while playing fascinated Abi. One false move and the stage would go up. But no. The drummer sat behind them, trying not to laugh as he played. Dan toppled over and hit the guitarist, knocking off the guitarist’s glasses. He looked better without them.

The next song, Dan had a megaphone, screaming the lyrics through them to the crowd. The crowd shouted back, slamming Abi forward until her chest pushed against the guardrail. She looked up at the tagger, singing a song about Sundays, dancing to the beat like an idiot. Such energy- he was the perfect frontman. She watched him bounce against the amps, climbing scaffolding- never missing a note. She hadn’t been to a show this fun in years.

She learned their names quickly. The man with the glasses was Graham. The man with the fag was Alex. The drummer, Dave. The singer was not Dan Abnormal, but Damon. He had told her his name wasn’t Dan on the roof, and now she knew for certain that he wasn’t lying. But she couldn’t help but think if this was his real name, or just another pen name. Before she knew it, the show was over, the crowd had dispersed, and she was alone. The band had finished packing up, and it was around 5 in the morning. Abi rubbed at her eyes and began to walk out of the club, when she found a paper hanging on the door.

“Key club. Stambourne. 7/9/92. 20:00.”

She ripped it from the door and headed home.

IV. Beetlebum

Classes took over Abi’s life after that night. She barely got to see anyone. But on the morning of the 9th, Casey crashed in.

“Morning Casey,” Ashley sighed, opening the door for him.

“Yo Ash,” he sighed, his head encased in a beanie cap, “Abi up? It’s like….10.”

Ashley sat back down to her knitting, “Not yet.  She doesn’t have classes today, for the first time in forever. Besides, I think she’s going out tonight.”

“Going out?”Ashley sighed, picking through the mail to hand over a little slip. Casey read over it and put it back down on the table.  He walked across the room to Abi’s door and knocked. “She’s following a dream, Ashley. Abiiiiii! Get up!”

“What do you mean, Case?” Ashley sighed, starting a new row in her sweater.

He sat down and poured a cup of tea from the pot on the table. He blew on it a bit and sipped, “She’s following these slips to these shows thinking that we’ll get to meet Dan Abnormal again.”

“Wait. You met Dan Abnormal?”

Abi opened her door and sighed, “What’s going on, Case?” She was smiling rather widely, seeming well rested. She blinked a bit and rubbed her eyes before grabbing her own tea. Casey had no guts to say that she was being silly and needed to stop. So they sat in silence.

 

Nightfall. Driving to Stambourne wasn’t that bad. Sure, she had to leave earlier and drive…alone. Yet again, Casey wouldn’t come. This time because he actually had to work. For a salary. And somehow- Abi didn’t understand it. The town was cute and small, and the club wasn’t hard to find. There weren’t many people there.  It was falling apart at the seams. Spiderwebs dangled in the eaves of the place, the wood looking rotted and decomposed. There wasn’t a stage, just a section of floor that was a different color to indicate where the band was to set up. No guard rails. A musty rug covered the floor. Probably from India.

It was perfect.

Abi sat on the rug, the three other people just hanging around. A young lady dressed in red and blue was in sight, walking towards Abi in a dreamy state, her legs crossing in front of each other as she walked, before plopping down in front of her and pulling out a little pad and pen, “Can I get you anything from the bar, miss? We just got in some cases of ale…”

“Give me whatever you recommend,” Abi smiled, looking the girl over. She was a pretty thing; blonde braided hair, emerald eyes… rather giggly as well. The girl nodded, scribbling something down, before jumping up from her spot and moving off to get the drink.

There they came again. Graham was without his spectacles, wearing some oversized tee that he probably bought too large by accident, Alex taking a drag on his fag, wife beater wrinkled over his hips, Dave looking quite blank in an Avengers shirt. Dan/Damon followed close behind, green striped shirt and four bracelets donning his right arm. Abi smiled. So the paper was right…..

“Oh man, Graham. Check out this crowd,” he laughed into the microphone, “You guys must be pretty damn dedicated.”

The girl in red and blue bounded over to Abi, who got off the ground clumsily to greet her. “Here’s your beer! Enjoy!” With a flick of her braid, she was gone, and Abi walked forward to the band area, taking a sip of her beer.

Smiling.

Time to start the show.

V. Jubilee

“I don’t need anyone. But a little love will make things….. beterrrrrrr.” Last guitar strum. “Thank you.”

Dan/Damon proceeded to sit down on the floor, picking up Graham’s beer and downing the remnants. He looked up, his eyes glinting in the light. Abi had seen this before. In a dream of sorts. She was in a large grassy field, walking along with her backpack full of spray cans. The sun was shining behind a sea of clouds, making it perfect out. Not to bright, not to dark. A bird was flying overhead, when she stumbled over something. She looked down to see someone looking up at her. His eyes were full of captured sunbeams, glowing as bright as his tiny smile. She had fallen in love with the man in her dream. Abi wanted to sit beside him on that checkered blanket and count the treetops in sight.

To laugh and dream with him as if time would stand still.

And here he was, sitting on the dirty floor of a run down club with a beer in his hand, looking up at the man with the fag. Dan Abnormal. Damon. Who was he?

She stood there staring for a while, when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Hello there! Enjoy the show?”

It was that boy that wore the glasses at the last show. Graham. He was smiling, his eyes looking at Abi, rather than through her. She smiled earnestly and shook his outstretched hand, “’Ello Graham. Grand show. Name’s Abi.”

He chuckled, “Nice to meet you, Abi. I was told to give you this.” He looked side to side and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over, finishing with a swig of some beer. Another date and location. London this time. Abi decided there and then that Casey had to come to this one. No ifs, ands or buts.

“So Graham,” She folded up the paper to put in her pocket, “Who gave you this?” She smiled deviously. If he wanted to talk to her, she at least could try to figure it all out. He shook his head from side to side, and Abi’s face fell. “Well then…. I really enjoyed your show. Think I can meet the band?”

“Oh, sure!” Graham laughed, “I’m the guitarist, of course…” He took Abi’s hand and lead her around Dan/Damon to the drum set, where Dave was packing up. “Hey Dave! That’s our drummer, by the way, Abi.”

Dave turned around with a smile, “Hullo Gra’.” He looked to Abi like quite a nice fellow. Someone she could play checkers with. He smiled politely and looked to Abi, “Hullo.”

“Dave, this is Abi,” Graham smiled, moving his hands from one to the other as if parting a sea of confusion. Both Abi and Dave bowed slightly to acknowledge that they had met, and then Graham playfully shoved Abi over to Alex, “Alex! I want you to meet one of our fans. Her name is Abi.”

“We actually have a fan? Not just a casual listener?” Alex laughed. It was an adorable laugh which caused slight motion in his head, which then tossed his hair about. He stuck out his hand abruptly and grabbed Abi’s to shake it, “Nice to meet you, Abi.”

“Likewise, Alex.” Abi was fascinated by the man with the fag dangling from his mouth as he spoke. She wanted to ask him a million questions about how he was so damn talented on bass and how he learned to multitask like that without killing his bandmembers.

But Graham moved Abi along once again. But past Dan/Damon.

“Hold up, Graham. You forgot one.”

“Oh did I? Crap. I’m sorry. I thought you already knew Damon by the way you were looking at him,” he laughed a bit under his breath and smiled slyly. He looked over at the singer, still sitting on the floor, drinking, observing the movements of the other three concertgoers and the barhops. “Dames. Earth to Dames.”

Dan/Damon looked up at the two of them and smiled, genuinely, “Hello Gra’.”

 

“Someone to meet you. Name’s Abi,” Graham replied, pushing on the girl’s shoulders to sit down in front of the man in question. Abi did as instructed and crossed her legs, sitting face-to-face with the man in the fields. The man on the checkerboard blanket.

“Hello Abi,” he smiled, still watching Graham to make sure to keep quiet until he was gone. Once Graham was out of sight, he turned his eyes back to Abi and laughed, “Or should I say Graham?”

“Damon. Or should I say, Dan?”

VI. Bang.

 “Ah, you got me,” he smirked, his hair falling over his eyes as he sipped his beer. Abi memorized everything. His cornflower blue eyes. His dirty blonde hair that looked red in certain lights. The exact pigment of pink in his lips. The shape of his face. It was all saved along with that smile in the sunlight of her dreams.

“So your name is Damon, then?” Abi smiled, drinking the remainder of her bottle down, the urge growing inside of her to play with his necklace. She always had a tendency to have weird urges that seemed silly with further thought. But she couldn’t think. His smile was blocking her mind.

He nodded, putting down his drink and folding his hands in his lap. He tilted his head, “And Abi is such a better name than you for Graham. Graham isn’t a good name for a girl.”

Abi could feel her face growing warmer.

 

“Dames, we better blow this place,” Alex called, holding up his case in the air to emphasize his point.  Damon waved him off and chuckled. He then stood up and grabbed Abi’s hand to assist her off of the dirty ground.

“Go get some sleep, Abi. You’re loony for coming out here this late.”

She smiled, “You just don’t want me stealing your tagging places tonight.”

He winked and was gone. Abi unfolded her hand, revealing a folded paper. It was a Polaroid folded in four. A Polaroid of a tag on the side of a beautiful little record shop. Scribbled on the bottom was “Dan Abnormal. 17/9/92. 23:59 PM” Abi blinked, “92? That hasn’t even happened ye-“ It clicked. She pulled out the paper about the London gig that Graham had given her. 17/9/92.

 

Home at 3 AM wasn’t that bad. She snuck back into the apartment, locking the door behind her. Abi scanned the room to see Ashley asleep on the sofa, her knitting grasped in her hands. Usually Abi would pass her by, seeing as she hated the little mouse. But tonight…. she was happy. She walked over to her flatmate and removed the needles, pulling a blanket overtop of her. Smiling, Abi turned around and headed to her room, opening the door and flicking on the lights.

“Out late again, Abi? I thought we were supposed to go tagging the Grayside Suites building tonight.”

Casey was perched like an eagle on Abi’s bed, playing a video game on his handheld. Abi wasn’t surprised he was there. Ashley probably let him in and didn’t pay attention to see if he left before passing out on the couch. She just leaned against the wall, “What’s it to ‘ya? Besides, I told you I couldn’t anyway.”

He sighed and turned off the game, sitting it beside him on the bed, “Abi. You have to stop going to these shows. You’re forgetting about your schoolwork. We have finals next week for this semester. Are you prepared? No!” He got up and walked over to her, taking her shoulders into his hands as if he could shake the smarts back into his best mate, “I can understand tagging. You can control how late that takes you. But concerts? You have no idea…. And these are so sporadically spread through England! Ridgewell to Stambourne may not have been that bad, but what’s next? Cambridge?”

“London, actually,” Abi whispered.

“Abi! Are you serious?” He shrieked, shaking her violently, as Abi smiled.

“But it’s not for 8 days,” Abi giggled, “Our finals will be over. We could drive out there the night before…”

Casey was about to lose it, “We?!? Since when was this a we effort?”

Abi clammed, “I want you to go with me. We can get there the night before and stay with my sister in her flat. Then we can spend the day in London together. We can plan where to tag after the concert, and leave the next day.”

Casey let go of her and sat back in Abi’s chair, “A holiday….” He inhaled the crisp night air and lightly smiled, “Sounds alright, I guess. I’m sorry I flipped on you, Ab.”

“’S alright, Case,” Abi smiled, “Goodnight.” She watched him leave, and relocked the door, before falling on her bed and quickly drifting to sleep. Her dreams brought her back to that field. To that bloke on the blanket staring up at the sun, looking straight through her. She took a chance.

VII. Holding On For Tomorrow

 *Knock knock*

Ashley was quite surprised when she woke up the following morning wrapped in a blanket. She remembered falling asleep without one. Now, she had a feeling that it was Casey, so she had called, and he only told her that it was there before he left. He didn’t do it. So she was bewildered, and rubbed her bleary eyes before starting up breakfast, making Abi’s favorite- Eggy in a basket. They hadn’t had that in a year.

“Abi, you up? I’m making breakfast.” She sighed, wrapped still in the blanket, standing before her roommate’s door. This couldn’t have been Abi’s doing, but by God, Ashley hoped it was.  No response came from her knocking, so she decided to get the eggs on plates and pour out the orange juice and milk for herself and her flatmate.

She had just sat down, when Abi came stumbling out of her room, rubbing her eyes.

“Morning Ash-hole,” Abi yawned, stretching her arms over her head, “What hour’s it?”

Ashley sighed, watching Abi sit, “8. I have class in two hours, and you in three. Have a nice sleep?” She still smiled though, because Abi was being at least a little friendly this morning compared to the past.

“Fine,” Abi munched on her breakfast, “I see you made eggy! Thank you, Ash! How did you sleep?” She had a delight in her face that shone like a candle. Her smile was threatening to split her face in two.

That made Ashley smile, “It was alright for sleeping on the couch. But I found a blanket on me this morning. Do you know who put it there?”

Abi smirked and finished her French toast, “Eh, no idea.” The smile obviously gave her away, because Ashley chuckled and muttered her thanks. Abi waved it off and cleaned up her dishes, “Nice breakfast, Ash.”

“No problem, Abi. May I ask why you’re in such a pleasant mood?”

“No.” Abi then laughed and headed for the showers.

 

It continued like that for a week. Abi and Ashley would have a nice breakfast together, they took their finals, and Abi spent the evenings tagging with Casey, who was counting the days to their London holiday. But Abi found herself picking up a new hobby thanks to her music theory courses- guitar. She would find herself working at it in her free time when neither her flatmate or friend was around. Each time the music led her to escape to new places, not just the grassy field.

But every time….Graham, Damon, Alex, Dave, Casey- one of them was there. And it was an enjoyable escape.

 

“You guys are serious about this?” Ashley asked, as night fell on the 7th day. Abi had been packing her suitcase at the time, and Casey was about to get out of his Psychology class after taking his final.

Abi smiled in return, loading up her car. Casey would be driving out tonight so she could sleep and be able to get up to make him breakfast in the morning. Besides, he got to sleep later than she did. “We’re gonna be gone for two full days, if you think about it, Ash. Plenty of time to yourself and your knitting.”

Ashley played with the needles in her hands, “You two better keep safe. London’s a dangerous town, you know.”

 

Within 5 minutes, they were gone.

VIII. Turn It Up

Casey didn’t realize it was real. It took a few seconds to analyze the fact that they were at a concert, that Dan Abnormal was really this singing Damon character. He felt bad for doubting Abi, but she had led him astray before. Why he stuck by her side, he had no idea.

What they were doing here after the show, he had no idea either.

 

Graham had walked up to Abi after the show, recognizing her, and called her and Casey over to have a drink with the band. Since she was planning on tagging later with Casey, the two of them settled for tea as the band sat down with their beers.

“So, um….” Casey struggled, stirring sugar into his tea, “Nice show guys?”

Alex snuffed out his fag in the ashtray and lacklusterly waved his wrist about, “It would have been better if Dave didn’t fuck up on ‘Fool’.”  Dave snapped his eyes at Alex, who looked back with a huge grin. Graham dug his face into his hand and snickered at them.

“Tickle your arse with a feather, Graham.” Alex mumbled. Obviously someone had a rough night. Most likely was turned down by some hot piece of ass.

The hairs on Graham’s neck stood up on end and he looked up, “Excuse, Alex?”

Alex didn’t wait to make a comeback, practically cutting Graham off, “I said, ‘Particularly nasty weather, Graham’” Damon laughed so hard he spit take. Abi and Casey held it in as they drank their tea at the bar.

Damon noticed the tension growing and tried to lighten the mood, “The bathrooms here are freaking palaces. I wasted about 5 fucking minutes trying to find the damn urinal.”

“You’re telling me,” Dave joined in, “It’s a fucking maze just to take a shit in this palce.”

“No wonder the Beatles played here,” Damon laughed, lighting up a fag of his own.

Abi laughed, “The Beatles are inhuman. They probably could find their way, piss, and return to play before Damon would even be able to remember the words to ‘Bang’.”

“Not funny, Abi,” Damon laughed, his blue eyes now sparkling with joy.

 

23:30.

“Excuse us, we want to enjoy the remaining half hour of the day about town,” Casey smiled, “Nice meeting you all.”

“Likewise,” Dave smiled, to which Graham elbowed him. Dave really did get all the abuse in the band. Alex sleepily waved, and Damon nodded, before getting up from his seat himself.  Abi knew why, but she decided to keep quiet.

“G’night guys. See you again soon,” she waved around another flyer to another show. It was becoming a habit for her. So Casey and Abi exited the bar and breathed in the city air at night.

“Which way to go, Graham?” Casey smiled.

“You tell me Case.”

 

IX. Sunday Sunday

They somehow found their way around town, tagging alongside other London artists. There was a tiff between Casey and one particular gang of brutes that left him with a dislocated shoulder and a black eye. Of course, he then took the time to blame Abi for all of this- having drug him along to London.

“Now, I may not be the one to blame, Case, but you seriously need to sit down for a second so I can look at you,” Abi said, pulling Casey down to sit against a building as she fished a pocket flashlight from her pockets. She smacked it against her hand, it flickering on and off, before gaining full glow, and Abi turned it to shine upon her fallen comrade.

“Tell me when it hurts.”

She grabbed a hold of Casey’s arm, just above the elbow, and tried rotating it in a circular motion. Casey just whimpered. “That hurts. That hurts. Abi stop!”

She finally dropped his arm, “You need to see a doctor and get a sling.”

“Can I at least go back to your sisters? I think she’d take me. You keep tagging. I want this city to be ours by the end of the night,” Case smirked. Devil he was, putting his aspirations above his own care. Abi looked him down, to which he smirked, and with his good arm, flicked the light to show the street sign.

Abi read it to him, and sighed, “We’re already there. This is her building. You know where to go?”

He nodded, “Don’t let me down.” He then struggled to get off the ground and walked away, turning the corner.

“Asshole.”

 

Abi slumped back against the wall. She inhaled the sharp air and pulled her knees to her chest, closing her eyes and holding her face in her hands. What the hell was Casey expecting of her- without him she couldn’t cover as much ground. She should have been with him anyways.

But then he’d just get all upset over something silly. That’s her Casey.

She looked at her watch. 23:58. She sighed. She couldn’t cross town to meet up with Damon now. She could use Dan Abnormal’s magic touch to help her cover ground, but it was too late now.  She looked around, wall to wall, and her breath caught in the bottom of her lungs.

Upon the wall stood a gigantic tree. It was painted by some tagger, sure, but so realistic, it seemed magical. She turned to kneel before the roots of the painting, which looked like they were coming out of the building and digging into the sidewalk. The leaves were changing colors before her eyes. The red brick background slowly faded to a pale blue sky. Clouds drifted over her head.

The cold night air replaced with warm summer air.

She was sitting upon a blanket. Cement turned to grass.

She cried. It was beautiful

She heard it all. The birds chirping. This was nothing like she could imagine.

Then a hand on her shoulder.

It all disappeared, returning to the dark London streets.

 

The dreaming tree has died.

 

“Abigail.” She knew that voice. Flowery yet sharp. Full of energy yet compassionate. Damon knelt beside her, as she hid the tears of joy that fell. “What’s wrong?”

“Damon?” She almost choked again, gasping at his appearance, “What are you doing here?”

“This is my dreaming tree,” he smiled, running his fingers over the paint, “I close my eyes and thoughts just disappear to nothing.” He smiled dearly, and Abi reveled in it, doting upon the look as if it were the most beautiful in all the world, “Sometimes I forget what I see isn’t real.”

“I know.” She watched his hands fall down to his lap.

He looked over, returning a hand to her shoulder, “What did you see, Abi?”

“It was a warm summer day. The sky was blue, the grass was green, just like the tree. It had pink flowers in the branches, and some had fallen to the ground. Birds were singing in the air, and I was sitting here on a blanket, a flower having fallen on my head,” she described, shutting her eyes and exhaling, “It was beautiful Damon.

“I see,” he smiled, his eyes focused on the tree, “Open your eyes, it’s right there.” Abi’s lashes parted and her pupils shrank. The vision was back, but this time, Damon was sitting beside her on the blanket. Damon turned to her and smiled, “Like this, right?”

“Exactly.”

 

She remembered the day before last. The vision in the dream. The chance she took.

“Damon, I’ve been having these strange dreams lately…”

He stopped her, turning back to the tree, “Don’t tell me. Let the tree show me.”

X. Villa Rosie

It was like the tree was growing before their eyes. Abi was actually a little nervous to follow through with it, but the tree kept growing and growing. And then she realized Damon was caught on one of the branches.

“Damon!” She yelped pathetically, half of it caught in her throat, grabbing a hold of his hand. He didn’t look worried though, as he went up….farther….

Abi’s grip slipped and she was sent tumbling back on the ground. She rubbed her head and looked up. Damon was singing. So high up in the tree, the sun behind him, casting a glow around his body. This was her dream. “This wasn’t a good idea, Dan!” she yelled, stirring in her seat. As if she couldn’t control her limbs anymore- her body was stirred to the tree, climbing the branches.

 

But with each branch she climbed- the tree grew a new one. It kept getting bigger. She kept growing smaller. And the melody of Damon’s voice stung her ears. But she kept climbing. Her heart was bursting joy with each dissonant chord, despite the hard journey.

As each branch passed her by, a different name was scrawled into the wood. The names of venues. The first three were familiar… the rest, not so much. But they kept increasing with each melodic phrase in the cadence.

 

She got frustrated

 

She slammed her fists against the tree.

 

“Ouch.” Blood on her knuckles. The tree became smaller, Damon returning from his branch to sit beside her on the sidewalk.

Damon looked mournfully at Abi’s hands, and proceeded to take off his jacket to mop up the little scrapes, “Abi. I told you it wasn’t real.” She was silent, looking down at her worn out converses. Damon laid his hand on her shoe to grasp her attention. “Go back to where you are staying. See if Casey is alright. Hug your sister. You’ll be okay.”

“How do you know about Casey?”

He just smiled and leaned over to peck Abi’s forehead, “Take care of him, Abi.”

 

And he stood and walked away.

 

Abi looked up at the tree, running one hand against it, still wrapped in Damon’s jacket. She drug the hand along the bricks as she turned the corner to her sister’s flat.

 

Her sister was waiting for her, sitting in the drawing room with Casey, who was wearing a sling and a wide grin. He was obviously doped up on painkillers, but he could tell the emotion in his best friend’s face.

“Oi. Abi, are you alright?”

“Hey Casey,” she smiled, walking over to his seat on the couch, “How’s your shoulder doing?”

XI.  Sing

 After a long talk with Casey about his trip to the hospital, Abi just wanted to go home. She kissed his forehead, like Damon had done for her, to show she really did care about what he had to say, and hugged her sister, and went to bed.

After all had left the room, Casey ran his fingers over his forehead, sighing, “If you love someone, let them go.”

 

The car ride back to Ridgewell was silent. So was the day at the flat. Ashley was worried when both Casey and Abi shut themselves up in their respective rooms.

 

The next morning, Abi was in a train station. The ride to Crawley would last until about 4, she thought, most likely 5. But she was alone at the station, waiting on a bench for the train to arrive. She decided to spend a few hours painting a little tree on the wall- just like Damon’s dreaming tree. It was all she could think of.

And then someone decided to sit with her an hour later. Beside her sat a young girl, who was watching Abi stare longingly at the paper with the club’s name.

“Hello there,” she chirped, “You’re going to Crawley too?”

Abi looked over and nodded, “You’re going all by yourself? You must be a big girl, then!”

The girl nodded.

“You’re not afraid at all?”

The girl looked around and leaned close to Abi’s ear, as if there were people around in the empty station, and whispered, “A little. I’m going to my aunt’s.”

Abi put her paper aside and turned to face the cute little girl, “I’m Abi.” She held out her hand and the little girl shook it, introducing herself as Brianne. “Well, Brianne. Would you like me to tell you a story to pass the time?” She nodded again.

 

“Alrighty, but you have to close your eyes.”

 

Abi took the girl’s hand and held it up against the painted tree, “Imagine that you’re touching a giant tree with pink flowers in the branches. Can you feel the bark?”

Brianne looked adorable with her eyes squinched tight, and it made Abi feel happy, “I can feel it, Abi!”

“Okay, once upon a time, long before these crowded streets, there was a tree. Legend said that it could show you your dreams. There was a princess named Allison, who was adored by all the men in town. She would sit under the tree for hours at a time and imagine all sorts of wonders,” Abi spun the tale, wonder in each breath, “Open your eyes, Brianne. We’re here.”

Brianne did so, and saw the beautiful kingdom spread before her, and Abi was dressed as a princess. She was princess Allison. Brianne was amazed by this. This was just a train station before. Was this Abi woman magical?

Abi knew what was going on. It was the magic of Damon’s dreaming tree coming to life. All over again.

 

“Why are you crying, Princess Allison?”

 

Abi looked down at Brianne, who curtseyed. She faked a sniffle, and sighed, “It was so easy up till here. But I’m afraid I have fallen in love with someone who I cannot have as my own.” Brianne patted her hand, and Abi smiled, “His name is Darius, and he is a prince in a palace far away- in a province called Crawley.”

Brianne smiled, “Is he handsome?”

“Oh, for the world is large!” Abi dreamed, getting far too into character to not understand this wasn’t just a story, “He has the most beautiful eyes and the voice of a thousand angels! His hair is silky to the touch, and his laugh… oh his laugh.”

“He sounds dreamy,” Brianne swooned, “I wish I would have a fairytale prince.”

“One day, my dear,” Abi smiled.

“Why is it a bad thing?”

 

Abi hung her head low, “I’m afraid that he is too important for a lowly Princess from the Ridgewell lineage. I might have to marry someone from the court. Perhaps my friend Charles, if I must.”

“No no! Don’t marry Charles! You two are friends right?” Abi nodded, and Brianne shook off her flustered look, “Then you couldn’t be friends anymore. You have to see Darius!”

The train rolled into the station, but the girls saw a horse. “Come,” Abi smiled, “Mount with me, Brianne. We shall ride to Crawley together.”