Conviction(52)

“Conner Reed and Marley Layton both on stage together. My heart can’t take it,” the girl standing next to me, says to no one in particular.

“Oh my God, Neen, look at him.” For some reason, I feel a pang of jealousy in my chest at the thought of these women watching him, wanting him. Thinking that they know him.

“Don’t look at me like you wanna punch me. I meant Marley Layton, not f*cking Reed. Although… I’ve gotta say, Neen, watching the pair of them on stage has given me a bit of a clit-on.”

I stare at her blankly for a few seconds. It’s not so much the inappropriateness of my friend’s words, it’s that I have so many emotions swimming through me, along with a fair amount of alcohol that I can’t seem to form words.

“He’s still got it. He’s still f*cking hot. I’d totally do him, even if he is fifty.” I smile and shake my head at Sophie as she moves to the music. “Reed looks good too though, you’ve gotta admit it, Neen.”

I look back down on the stage. He does look good. He looks like he’s doing what he was born to do and an immense feeling of pride washes through me.

No wonder he was feeling nervous about performing. Marley Layton was his absolute hero when we were younger, and Carnage, the band Marley was in, was our favourite. We’d been to see them together a couple of times and now, here he was, living his dream up on stage with his idol.

My heart’s racing as the song comes to an end. The crowd quiets as Marley addresses them, thanking everyone for coming and all that had been involved in making the event happen. He then thanks, Conner and Gunner Vance, Shift’s drummer for performing with him and then he moves to Conner’s spot, while Conner moves to the front of the stage.

“People,” he shouts into the mic. The crowd goes wild.

“This is a little song that I think you all might know. This is a song I wrote about someone very special to me.” My stomach breakdances around my belly and my heart feels like a hand has punched through my chest and is squeezing it tight. I can’t stand here and listen to this. If he’s going to dedicate a song to his girlfriend, I have to leave, I need to leave. But I don’t. I stand gripping the ledge that travels along the edge of the balcony and wait for his words to flay me.

“This is for you, Nina, and no matter what, you’ll always be my Amoeba.”

“Fuck. Me.” Sophie says from beside me.

The crowd erupts again as the band rocks out to, ‘Where I Are.’

“Holy f*cking shit,” are the words that come out of my mouth, while my brain digests the lyrics of the song being sung by the man that has owned my heart for so long.



It's moments like these when I stare at the stars, when I look at the moon and wonder where you are.

Do you like the same things, and do you ever think of me?

Do you ever think of me, and wonder what could've been?

Do you ever look at the stars and think of me?

Do you ever think of me, and wonder where I are?

Where I are.

You hated tomato sauce on your chips and marmite on your toast.

You didn't like your feet tucked in bed, but loved extra gravy on your roast.

I knew you inside out, but would I know you now. Would I know you know?

Would you pass me in the street like none of it mattered?

Would you just walk by, like what we had wasn't real?

Please tell me it mattered, I need to know that it mattered.

I can sometimes go for days but then a smell, a sound, or the words of a song.

It brings it all back, reminds me that it all went wrong.

You hated marmite on your toast.

Loved gravy on your roast.

Do you have moments like these when you stare up at the stars?

Do you ever think of me, and wonder where I are?

Do you ever think of me, and wonder where I are?

I wanna know you again,

I wanna stare into your eyes.

I wanna watch you while you sleep.

I wanna kiss away your pain.

But until that day,

I’ll look up at the stars, and wonder where you are?

And hope that you’re looking at them too.

And wondering, where I are?

Please tell me.

Please, please tell me.

That you wonder,

Where I are?





Sophie has her arm around my shoulder and I hold onto her hand with both of mine. I’ve heard this song hundreds of times, but I’ve never really listened to the words. To be honest, I usually turn the radio down when a Shift song gets played, and Marcus just turns it off completely if they even get mentioned.

The song ends and I feel almost bereft. I want it to go on. I want to hear Conner say that he wrote it for me again. I want to feel the words and his voice wrap around me, make my world good again.

“Why didn’t he show, Soph? Why’d he leave me like that? If the words in that song are true, why did he never come for me?”

“I don’t know, babe, I really don’t know.”

She wipes a tear from under my eye with a napkin. “But ya know what? The only way to find out is to ask him, and we want that pretty face of yours looking perfect when you do.”

“What? No. No way. I’m a mess Soph and anyway, there’s no way I’ll be able to get near him after that performance.” He’ll be surrounded by groupies and supermodels. Why would he want to talk to me, the girl he left behind?