What Would Humans Do? (A Short Story)

Do you remember the first time you died? To be honest, it’s a stupid question, because it’s designed for someone else to answer, but instead I’m the only one who can. I do remember the first time I discovered I was immortal. How can I forget. It’s when the world ended. It’s when everyone else died. It’s when my family and friends, my girlfriend and her family, all died.

According to scientists, the world was scheduled to end about 5 billion years in the future, when the sun becomes a red giant and consumes our world. Until then, we all assumed everything would be OK up until then. We all assumed human kind had developed our technology and left this world. We were all expecting to watch this world be destroyed by the aging sun from afar and then afterwards, carry on as normal as humans do best.

The sun is still shining, but the world has ended. Life, nature, the universe, was following a schedule no one could have predicted.

When I woke up in the morning, I was happy and nervous. My very first thought was getting a long shower whilst I ponder today’s events.

I was happy because the night before my girlfriend of five years was able to get a couple of days off work to come down and see me in person instead of having to talk to each other via Skype. I was happy because she was coming down to support during a concert.

I was nervous because my girlfriend of five years was coming down to see me in person and watch me perform a concert, and it was my very first ever concert in an actual arena – the Wembley Arena to be precise. 12,500 people all staring at me and the band. I had only ever performed in small areas, theatres and concert halls, night clubs and the occasional festival. As our popularity grew, we finally reached our dreams of performing in an actual arena. Even though it was looking good as it was completely sold out – every single seat was occupied by some stranger who liked our music – there was still a chance it wouldn’t go as well as planned, but if it does go exactly as we hoped, we had officially broken into arenas. We would be able to tour around the world, performing in the greatest arenas in the world.

The night before, I struggle to sleep. I was so nervous. My girlfriend, Stacy, texted me and requested a chat over Skype. I knew instantly she sensed I was nervous. It’s not as if this was my first time being nervous, especially being a musician and singer. Practically the night before any performance I’m nervous, but they’re the kind of nerves I had gotten used to after seven years of performing all year round. I’m able to control those nerves and never let them take control. This time, a new wave stronger than I had ever felt before hit me – this was an actual arena.

“Hey, I know you can’t sleep,” Stacy’s text read, “and I know it’s late, but you need to talk to someone.”

I lazily put my laptop on sleep instead of shutting off completely, so when I boot it back up and input my password, all the programs that I was working with at the time are already open, including Skype.

Propping a pillow up on my headboard, grabbing my laptop and lifting the lid, it boots up instantly. It’s not the healthiest thing to do to any laptop, but it does save a lot of time when you’re in a rush, and it actually hasn’t been properly turned off in two years and it’s still going strong, so that’s just a way of telling me I can keep putting it on sleep.

As soon as my name flashed up on Stacy’s end to show I was online, she called me. The Skype’s ringtone didn’t have chance to echo around my room; I answered the call and Stacy’s glowing face appeared on my screen. It might be 11PM, but she still looks fresh and beautiful as ever, whilst I know I look tired, with bags under my eyes and hair that has been abused against my pillow as I’ve tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable.

Stacy smiled, “Evening.” She was also sitting in bed, with a pillow stuck between her head and wall. The laptop was resting on her lap.

“Are they new pyjamas?” I asked. They were red with a white flowery pattern all over.

“They are,” she answered, “I found them today whilst walking to the train station from work. I saw them in the window and immediately saw myself in them. Normally I don’t really put much effort into pyjamas, because it’s not as if I’m going anywhere in them, and I’ll be asleep when I am wearing them, but I found these calling out to me, so I bought them. You like?” she asked.

“I do,” I grinned. I was wearing my pair that I’ve hard for years now. Plain old grey, but they were incredibly comfortable, and can be worn all year round – not too hot in the summer, not too cold during the winter. Not much more can be asked of them, to be honest.

“I also found a new outfit as well,’ Stacy continued. ‘I thought about not telling you, but what’s the harm of telling you I’ve got a new outfit when I’m not actually going to show it to you until tomorrow?” she asked rhetorically. “Besides, now I’ve given you warning, you should notice it,” she joked.

“Who says I wouldn’t notice it anyway?” I asked, knowing she was joking and carrying it on a bit longer. That’s how our chemistry works.

“Do you want the list in alphabetical or numerical order?” she said.

“Alphabetical, please?” I requested. This caught her off guard.

“Ah, you see, I wasn’t expecting to get this far,” she admitted.

“Are you saying you didn’t comprise a list.”

“Tie,” Stacy suggested. That’s our go-to response whenever we’ve bested each other.

“Tie,” I agreed.

Stacy quickly moved onto the next subject, the concert tomorrow.

“Have you gotten all your instruments – your guitars and keyboard packed?” she asked.

“And polished,” I confirmed, “And tuned.”

“Have you gotten the DVD of the visuals.”

“I do,” mentally ticking off a box in my mind.

“Does everyone know when to meet up tomorrow at Wembley?”

“Six in the morning, yes,” I nodded.

“And I’ll be meeting you at around eleven, just before you start rehearsals, I believe.”

“When we enter the arena, we’re briefed on the emergency exists and other health and safety stuff,” I began, “and then we’re introduced to the stage itself. We’ve had many meetings beforehand about the placement of everybody. We’ve got an entire orchestra and choir attending instead of the symphonic elements being on CDs. It’ll be all hands on deck tomorrow morning, making sure literally everything is perfect. At eleven, I’ll meet you outside the arena, take you backstage and then we can start the rehearsals. We’re only performing a couple of songs to make sure the sound and all our instruments are in perfect working condition, which they should be anyway. After that, we’re taken back stage and given our clothes. And that’ll be that until the doors open at half five in the evening and the concert beginning at seven.”

“When the doors are open,” Stacy continued where I left off, “I believe I’ll then be escorted to my seat, in the front row.”

“You will,” I nodded.

A sudden wave of nerves washed over my body, silencing me.

“You have nothing to worry about, you know,” Stacy said encouragingly. “You’ve performed hundreds of times before, and yes, whilst this will be the biggest crowd you’ve ever performed before…”

 “Not exactly helping,” I said.

“My point is,” Stacy continued, “treat it like all those other performances. It’ll be a completely different experience, because you’ll have an entire orchestra and choir on stage, but you know they’ll play perfectly, and you know you’ll play perfectly because you have done hundreds of times before, so, whilst you have the right to be nervous at it being a monumental new experience, you can relax in knowing it’ll all be OK, like all the times before.”

Stacy has always had that effect on me. Her words of wisdom are unmatched. Whatever the occasion, however I’m feeling, she always knows exactly what to say to help me calm down and carry on forward. She’s been supporting me since the day we first met. I’ve been supporting her as well. She wants to be a lawyer, and her university work is currently causing her a lot of stress, as well as the job she needs to have to pay for the cost of living.

I’ve supported her when it was my time to do so. I’ve never known this happens, but she had to do a mock court case, which was a test on what she knew and didn’t. The university went big and actually booked a real court room to do the test in. The case was completely fake, of course.

She had to ask all the right questions, retaliate professionally against her opponent, and at the end, after the examiner has called quits on the test, given a score on how well she did.

The moment she announced that she could get people to attend, either her friends or family, I made it my mission to do so. I said I was going even before she could ask, which did throw her off a little bit, to which I did apologise for. I sat in the stands whilst she performed her mock court case, and she did phenomenally. She passed with flying colours.

After being together for five years, we naturally support each other no matter what. Due to the nature of my job, and the nature of hers, we’re unable to see each other as often as we like. It’s not necessarily a long distance relationship, because neither of us are permanently on the other side of the world, just me briefly when touring. We only experience long times between seeing each other in person – all we can do is speak to each other whenever we can over Skype. Whenever we do see each other in person, however, we always make it a special occasion, such as her test, my first ever concert in an arena, and then afterwards we go to a very expensive restaurant and have a meal that’s probably not worth the money spent, but we don’t care.

She’s coming down for three days, because that’s how many nights we’ve booked the Wembley Arena for. Normally any band’s first time in that arena is for one night only as an experiment. However, our agent has somehow managed to get three nights. All three nights sold out in record time, in just 24 hours. That’s never happened to us before, and is an added element as to why I’m so nervous. If the first night doesn’t go well, who would think the subsequent two nights would go any better?

Stacy’s words did help me massively. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief knowing that I can treat it as just another concert.

“I love you,” I said. The first time I said that, we were having a picnic together on a grass embankment. I surprised her with the picnic, and she enjoyed it. I knew it was the right time to say those three words, and when I did, she was taken aback by it slightly, but returned the words with genuine meaning, before kissing me on the lips. Side note, that wasn’t the first time we kissed, that happened spontaneously one night – we both went in together, which certainly helped both of us because we just didn’t know if it was the right time but went for it anyway.

“I love you, too,” Stacy smiled. “Now, you get some sleep before you get over tired and unable to perform at you best tomorrow, or we talk all through the night.”

“We don’t want that happening again, do we,” I joked. We’ve done that too many times, completely unintentionally.

“If it helps,” she said, “I can…” and she ended the call… That works.

***

The next day, at quarter to eleven, I waited outside the arena for Stacy to arrive. The band had moved in and were setting up their equipment, alongside the orchestra. The choir were here, but they wouldn’t start rehearsing with us for another house or so as they’re still being fitted with their robes.

Dead on eleven O’clock, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I was facing away from the beaming sun, and she was coming from behind me. When that finger lightly tapped me on the shoulder, I jumped and spun round on the balls of my heels so quickly, she took a step back in surprise.

“Woah there,” she said, holding up to hands in defence.

When I realised that it was Stacy, I calmed down with a sigh of relief. “Don’t do that.” I said, holding my chest. “You’ll wear me out before my concert if you keep doing that.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she said, sarcastically. I shot her a look of, “I probably shouldn’t have said that”, smiled, and held out my arms.

“Apology accepted,” she said, hugging me back.

“It is good to see you,” I said, semi-muffled through her hair.

“It has been a while since we’ve done this,” she confirmed. “Every time I say we should do this more often, but never does that happen. In fact, the opposite does and we seem to spend more time apart than together,” she analysed.

“Then let’s make this worth our time together,” I suggested.

We unhooked our arms, “I cannot wait to see your first ever concert in an actual arena,” Stacy said, her eyes bulging with excitement. “I especially cannot wait for the experience of having an actual entire orchestra on stage.”

“An actual entire orchestra,” I quoted back with a confused expression.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, waving a hand in front of me to dismiss what she said. “Come on, get back inside so you can rehearse.”

“Yes, ma-am,” I said.

The best response to give was just a silent gesture, pointing with authority towards the door, with meant two things: Never say that again, but I love you for daring to say it. However, I certainly felt the burn from her authoritarian eyes and I silently walked back to the door, grabbed the handle and opened it to let her enter first.

Stacy nodded her appreciation and waited for me to step inside for she doesn’t know where she’s going to get to the stage. To be honest, I’m a little unsure myself. I stood by the front door, so I had to remember how to get backstage. However, instead of embarrassing myself, I instead took her through to the arena’s seating area where we walked from the very back to the stage, where a set of steps were on either side. It was both an easy solution and a way to show Stacy just how gigantic Wembley Arena really was.

“There are a lot of seats here,” she said, head up high, looking aghast.

“Thanks for the confidence boost,” I said.

“Sorry,” Stacy realised what she had said. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m holding together better than I thought I would last night. I mean, our rehearsals should go down smoothly, and once we’re confident everything is perfect, the night should go without a problem.”

“Well, looks like they’re waiting,” Stacy said, looking at the rest of the band, who had just noticed us walking to the stage. They greeted Stacy all at the same time, practically bouncing on their feet to say hello and greet with a hug, which she accepted gratefully.

Alan on guitars, Marshall on bass guitars, Christopher on drums, James on keyboards, and Nola as the lead vocals and occasionally play various instruments, along with me who is also the lead vocals and also occasionally play various instruments.

After the initial greeting, she noticed all the people in the orchestra and waved a little nervously. To be fair, there were a lot of people. I’ve never seen this many people on a stage at any one time, and the number would grow considerably when the choir joins us. This didn’t help my nerves, but with Stacy beside me, waiting eagerly to hear an exclusive performance as we rehearse, that helped the butterflies in my stomach settle a little.

“Where is the best place to stand?” Stacy asked.

“Just by our technical adviser over there,” I pointed.

“Will do,” she said, making her way off stage. The speakers were to her left, and they need to be tested to make sure everyone in the entire hall can hear us properly. Those speakers reminded me and gave me an idea at the same time.

“Actually, Stacy,” I called, she spun round.

“Yeah?” she asked, curiously.”

“Would you mind doing us a favour? You see, we need someone to check if everyone can hear us properly. Would you mind taking two flags, one red and one green, and sit at the back of the arena whilst we play one song, and then afterwards, hold up the red flag if you couldn’t hear us properly, hold up the red flag, and if you think everything is fine, hold up the green flag. It’s not a legitimate technique used by everyone, but mainly by us, but since this is our first time ever in a concert we want to make sure it’s as perfect as we can possibly make it, you know?” I knew I sounded equally paranoid I was asking a silly favour and too much of Stacy.

“I can do that for you,” she said casually, smiling.

“Awesome, thank you. The flags are over by our technical adviser.”

“Consider it done,” she said.

“What would I do without you?” I asked rhetorically, but she answered anyway.

“Play a concert without the back row not hearing you properly, apparently.”

I was caught off guard, but what she said made perfect sense. “Good point,” I returned, to which she just smiled with victory and made her way over to the edge of the stage, grabbed her flags and headed back out into the sea of seats.

Standing on the stage, seeing Stacy walk further and further away toward the back row, made me realise just how big this place was. By the time she got there, she was practically a dot in the distance.

The microphone was standing in front of me. I held up my thumbs to signify to the technical adviser to turn it on and I said through it.

“Can you hear me?” I called to Stacy.

She held up a green flag. Things were off to a good start.

“Ready?” I asked everyone through the microphone.

Everyone in the band and the orchestra nodded their heads. I counted us in.

“One, two, three…” and we began to play our first song of the rehearsals.

***

As the last note of my guitar faded away, and Stacy’s green flag went up in the air, I was happy. She stood up and made her way back to the stage, where we were preparing for our next song.

“That sounded amazing,” she said, climbing the stairs.

“I wasn’t expecting it to sound like that on our first try,” Nola admitted, smiling with excitement.

With how awesome we sounded, my confidence has grown tenfold.

“And all of you were fantastic,” I shouted to everyone in the orchestra, who took my words with gratitude and nodded appreciatively.

Having an actual orchestra behind you whilst you’re playing and singing instead of as a CD in a player sitting back stage, has a new level of atmospheric feel. From the moment the first notes of the violins were played, I knew, when the audience is sitting in those seats, along with the visuals on the screen above the stage, they’re in for one heck of an experience. We pride ourselves on making our concerts the best they can be, with that promise to leave you having gone on an adventure. We’ve put so much effort into making everything perfect tonight, the adventure we’re going to send them on tonight will be nearing that once-in-a-lifetime experience, for sure.

I’m already feeling the adrenaline kicking in.

“OK, I would like you to play one more song,” our sound adviser said, “and then we’re bringing in the choir and do two more songs, after that we should be all up and running for when the doors open.”

Everyone on stage nodded simultaneously and prepared their instruments for another song.

“Should I stand by him, now?” Stacy asked.

“Yes, please” I said, “and thank you for your help. I know it’s not usually what happens, but…” I don’t really have to explain what I already have, so I ended that sentence with a, “you know.”

“I’m always happy to help and I fully understand. This is your first ever concert in an arena, so I think that gives you enough justification to be a little paranoid over everything. However, your playing was phenomenal. I literally cannot wait for the full thing this evening.”

“Neither can I,” I confirmed, “and thank you,”

“You’re welcome,” she said, making her way over to the edge of the stage. The sound adviser grabbed a chair from somewhere and slid it over to Stacy, where she accepted gratefully.

“Ready?” the sound adviser asked.

Once again, everyone on stage nodded together.

“OK, when you’re ready, you can begin.”

I counted us in again and the arena’s roof was once hit with the amazing sound of our epic symphonic metal.

***

After our second song, the choir was ready to join us. They walked onto their stands at the back of the orchestra, wearing their incredibly majestic robes. Blue and gold. We were allowed to have a few minutes break whilst the choir warmed up their voices.

The band was standing backstage, not really talking as we were mesmerised by the choir’s voices. I would say they were already warmed up. Their voices were silky smooth, powerful, and they ranged from deep to high effortlessly, almost putting all of us in a trance-like state. This particular choir was used to playing with bands. They’ve been a professional choir for about fourteen years as of September this year, and have toured all around the country multiple times, accompanying multiple genres of music. We are their first metal band they’ve toured with, so we knew they were good, but dare I say, we weren’t expecting them to be this good.

***

After rehearsals, the band, the orchestra, and the choir all went backstage to get ready for the performance this evening, and rest. If I hadn’t learnt anything important from touring for years, I most definitely have learnt at least one thing, and that’s relaxing before a big performance increases the chances of it being awesome, because everyone is in a good state of mind.

We all are incredibly nervous – that’s human nature – but relaxing after knowing how well the rehearsals went, I’m smiling with pride. In only three hours’ time, we all would be performing in Wembley Arena, commonly associated with being one of the most famous arenas in Britain, and a place that all acts strive towards. Already massive bands are still dreaming of performing in such a venue, and here we are – that’s mind blowing to say the least, it really is.

It’s actually amazing how far we’ve come as a band. We started this seven years ago, and we poured our hearts and souls into making sure we played the best every single night, subsequently making the experience for each and every audience member memorable. It has taken so much hard work, but here we are, playing in an arena. It feels so satisfying.

Our origin story was like every other band, but our fame started differently from pretty much every single band ever. We met in college, where most bands do. We were all in the same class, studying science, when we discovered our love for music. In my spare time I taught myself to play as many instruments as I could as a child, and Nola had practiced with guitars, drums, and keyboards. Nola and I began the conversations, and James, Alan, and Christopher overheard us talking and was intrigued, and our friendship group grew in a matter of days.

During college and science assignments, we were meeting up and playing together in Nola’s garage, and we started our playing covers of songs, just to get things flowing, but Nola and I were frequently collaborating with writing songs. We were both lovers of symphonic metal, purely because of the amount of layers involved. The vocals, the music, and the orchestral elements along with the choir can make for one incredible experience. That was our choice of genre, but we were only a band of five, so we had to leave out the orchestra and choir and settle with the keyboards for the time being.

We wrote many songs together and played them until we all knew them off by heart. We recorded a CD of the songs we wrote, but we never intended on selling it. One day, Nola’s dad thought we were good enough to book ourselves a gig at the sports centre at our college, which we immediately were nervous even thinking about the idea. However, as time went on, we actually started discussion the idea. At the moment, we’re only doing this for ourselves, but what if we did perform a mini concert in the sports centre. Would that mean we’re taking this extremely seriously, and therefore we had to consider where that would take us. If we nail that performance, would we be wanted someplace else? That was what kept us from making a definitive decision. We were hesitant to say yes and no at the same time.

However, after one particular meeting, James stated we were hesitant of saying yes because we were afraid of success, which made a heck of a lot of sense. Did we believe we were good enough? Of course. Do we have faith we will perform well on the day? We all agreed to say, “that remains to be seen.”

Eventually we said yes and approached the college if it were possible, and they helped us in every which way they can. We booked the date, promoted it, and immediately, essentially became famous within college. Our faces were on the posters, so of course we were talked to many times.

The date of our performance rolled round quicker than we felt we could prepare for. The audience started rolling in, comprised of our parents, our friends, and strangers. It’s one thing playing in front of strangers, but it’s something completely different playing in front of your friends and family. It’s difficult to fully explain, but I felt a whole new set of nerves that night.

However, we composed ourselves, and performed our hearts out. We sung, we danced, we played for an entire hour and a half, and everyone fully enjoyed it. They were clapping along, and some were even dancing in the isles. We threw in a couple of covers in our playlist, which many were singing along to, which felt awesome.

There was one improvised moment that I shall never forget for as long as I live, and that’s when instincts took over and during the chorus of a famous song we were covering, I took the microphone off the stand and held it to the audience, and they kept singing in unison. That was incredible.

That was our first ever concert.

That could not have gone any better.

Word got around somehow – although we do suspect Nola’s dad – that we had a CD out, and after that performance, people wanted to support us further and so we had to make more copies. We sold them at £5.00 each.

We believed it was our CD that got our first bookings. Whilst our amazing concert did help a lot with building trust on how good we are, CDs can be passed around, and curiosity can start developing.

We did what every band we’ve ever known never done. We recorded a CD before touring. Normally it’s the other way round, isn’t it?

It all exploded from there. We were getting booking after booking after booking. It got to the point where we had to turn down a couple of places due to having to attend college or focus on our assignments or revising for our tests. We played as much as we could when we could.

At one point, we did discuss dropping out of college, but that topic was quickly muted by James who wanted to finish what he started. He chose science because that’s what he wanted to do with his life, but this band became something we can rely on and everyone’s new direction in life, but that didn’t take any value away from the fact we all chose science. That was our first decision and if we didn’t have this band would be our careers, so we owe it to ourselves to finish college and earn our degrees in science.

After college, we booked more dates than ever before, which we quickly realised was effectively a tour, so we promoted it as being just that, a tour.

And our popularity grew tenfold over the next few months, so much so that we were given a contract to sign a deal with a publisher to make a brand new CD, which, after analysing the legal jargon, accepted.

And that’s how we ended up here, playing at the Wembley Arena. Once we signed that contract, the company was able to promote us better than we ever could and word spread faster than ever before, and soon we were touring the country for an entire half a year, non-stop, playing in theatres, some famous and some standard.

I met Stacy during our fourth year touring. She came backstage in the hope of catching me for my autograph, which I happily gave. The moment I saw her I felt a connection. She had that cute smile, bubbly personality, and – even though I don’t normally notice about anyone I meet – really white teeth.

I might have felt a connection, but all that happened on that night was autograph giving and lively conversing. It was James that noticed such a relationship between us. I found Stacy waiting by the backstage door again the next night, and once again I felt something between us.

It was on that night I decided to go for it. It was completely spontaneous, but it felt right. I asked her out, and whilst she looked a little taken aback, gave me her number, and told me to meet her at the restaurant tomorrow evening after our afternoon concert.

I’ve never asked out anyone before. I’ve never had a girlfriend before. I wasn’t even looking for a girlfriend, but there was Stacy, standing backstage.

Since we met mid-tour, that’s how our relationship was able to adapt to my constant touring and her training to be a lawyer – or in other words, many days or sometimes even weeks apart, but we constantly kept in touch with each other over Skype and social media. We declared my love for her on the night we played in the Royal Albert Hall for the first time.

From our humble beginning to now, it has been one heck of a journey, and I have loved every single minute of it.

“Darren, don’t forget to have something to eat and drink before going on stage,” Stacy said, snapping me out of my train of thought. She was holding a Tesco’s bag. It appears she raided the sandwich section and purchased her many meal deals.

“Oh, right, yeah, of course,” I said, taking the bag from her and fishing through until I found what I like. Stacy took hers out and handed the bag to the rest of the band who took there’s out.

I didn’t feel like eating due to the nerves that had creeped their way back in now I wasn’t distracting myself with my past, but I knew that if I didn’t have anything to eat, I would certainly regret it on stage.

I checked the time and saw I had two hours before we go on stage, which means the audience are already at the arena, gathering outside, waiting to enter.

Oh, boy.

***

Those two hours went by way too fast for my liking. Not that I didn’t want those two hours to pass or anything like that; it just felt as if it really had only been an hour.

“Is everyone ready?” our manager called.

“We are,” James spoke for all of us.

“Good. You’re on stage in about six minutes, after the orchestra has finished the introduction, then you, Darren, are going to play the guitar in darkness. The stage’s lights will come on when the rest of the band starts playing.”

We already knew this, but as a manager, it’s his job to make sure we are prepared.

“Good luck,” Stacy said, leaning forward and planting kiss on my cheek.

“Thanks,” I said.

“If you wouldn’t mind making your way to your seat,” our manager said.

“See you on the other side, then,” Stacy said, making her way out of the room. I took a deep breath.

I could hear the audience chatting away in the seats. All 12,500 people. Woah. That’s a lot of people.

Then they suddenly went quiet as the lights in the arena went down. Half a minute later, the orchestra started playing.

I took another deep breath as my heart was beating furiously with nerves.

“This is it,” Nola said, “No turning back now.”

“Are you sure?” I joked.

“You know we’re all going to nail this performance, don’t you?”

“I have faith. Always have done, always will,” I said.

“Then let’s give them a night they’re all going to remember,” Alan said. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his heels with excitement. That was just his way of expelling any nerves he had in his system.

“You’re up,” our manager said. Here we go.

The orchestra finished playing the introduction and the lights on stage went dark. The entire arena as pitch black. We were led on stage by a worker and given our instruments. After making sure the guitar was sitting comfortable in my arms and hands, I breathed in more deeply than ever before and as I expelled, started to ping the strings in a series of coherent notes.

***

Best feeling ever: Satisfaction. So much hard work coming together. In 2 hours, playing non-stop, the audience were so immersed. Those who were seated on the floor stood up almost immediately and danced like there was no tomorrow. They bounced up and down, cheering and clapping their hand in the air. Those who chose the seats above couldn’t dance at all as there was only enough space to walk slowly along the rows, clapped and cheered louder than anyone else.

When the last notes of the final song died down and silence fell over the whole arena, the entire arena performed a standing ovation. The band, the orchestra, and the choir bowed with thanks.

We played our hearts out. No note went unloved.

All throughout the concert, at the back of my mind, there was this worry I would get something wrong. Either I would play a note badly, sing in the wrong key, forget the words, trip over my own feet. There were so many ways that concert could’ve gone wrong, but it didn’t. I discovered how weird it seems being pleased a concert is over because the immense happiness that comes from knowing it went completely as you hoped; there isn’t a feeling like it. During times we were playing in small venues, nothing came close to the elation of playing correctly the entire time, but that day beats everything before. I just played an entire 2-hour concert in Wembley Arena and I didn’t mess up once. That’s satisfaction never before experienced, and a feeling that would never be replicated again, only imitated.

I had many more concerts booked over the course of the tour, all in arenas – and whilst that feeling of satisfaction would come at the end of each night, nothing would ever beat my first time.

And then, standing on the stage, looking into the future, I discovered an even greater evolved state of satisfaction, when the entire tour is over and nothing went wrong. I may be looking forward to that, and I may even try and imagine how it would feel, I knew nothing would ever come close to what it would actually be like.

It was time to leave the stage for the final time tonight. Once the band disappeared backstage, that was it, the house lights would be turned on signifying to the audience they need to get moving.

Waving to the arena once more, I started walking off. Once backstage, I lowered my hand and immediately felt my entire body deflate. Now I had stopped, all the tiredness hit me at once.

I wanted to fall asleep where I stood, but there was so much that needed to be done, such as packing up everything and heading to the hotel we had booked. I estimated that process would take at least a couple of hours before we were even allowed to leave the arena, and it’s half-eleven at night. It’s a good job we don’t have a concert tomorrow evening, because I don’t think I would’ve had the energy.

I felt a tap on the shoulder and when I turned round, saw Stacy smiling broadly.

“That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever watched,” she said, hugging me.

“Thank you,” I said, sleepily.

“You’re going to need help packing things up,” she said. “Where would you like me to start.”

“Oh,” I said, coming out of my dreary state. “Once everyone has left, you can help me pack away the guitars and microphone stands,” I explained.

“Consider it done,” she said.

“Th… Thanks,” I said threw a yawn. Upon breathing out, my eyes decided to drop closed for a couple of seconds, obviously my body’s way of threating me to go to bed before it drops.

I never felt exhaustion like this before. I threw every fibre of my being into that performance, I must have used up every drop of energy I had even in my reserves. Looking around, I saw that everyone – the band, the members of the orchestra, and the choir all had that tired look about them, although not so extreme as they were more used to these kind of performances than us in the band, but they were tired nonetheless.

“Right,” my manager said, clapping his hands together in as much enthusiasm as he could muster, “the audience has left; the sooner we get this stuff packed, the sooner we can hit the hey.” That wasn’t meant to be a rude statement, but instead a realistic one. The stuff had to be packed away, and we all want to sleep, and we do the latter without having done the first.

Mustering as much energy as I had left, which I feel is only a few drops at this point, I pulled myself along and began the packing-up process.

***

The next morning the band woke up fresh-faced. The adrenaline had left our systems, but we were still buzzing from last night.

I laid on my back, staring up at the ceiling, allowing my memories to flow through me. Standing on that stage, looking out at the ocean of people, all waiting eagerly to hear me play and sing, and when I do, they dance and sing along with me. It truly was a night I would remember for the rest of my life, and I’m pretty sure the rest of the band can say the same.

Stacy was beside me, still asleep on her side. I find it ironic that I was the most tired last night, yet I’m the first to wake.

Not wanting to disturb her awake, I carefully climbed out of bed and stepped into the bathroom where I showered and brushed my teeth. As I was getting myself dressed, I thought it would be a good idea if I surprised Stacy with room service – breakfast in bed. She would love that.

Checking that she was still asleep, I reached for the phone that sat on the table on my side of the bed, and dialled for reception. Keeping my voice as quiet as I could, when the woman on the other side greeted me with a bouncy hello, I ordered breakfast.

“However,” I began, “could you wait for when I call again, because I want it to be a surprise when she wakes, not a surprise that wakes her, you know,” I explained.

“Certainly, Sir,” the woman said. I could hear her smile through the phone. “Will that be all for you, Sir?” she asked.

“That’ll be all, yes, thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your breakfast and if you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call again,”

“Thanks, speak to you soon.”

“Bye.”

And I put the phone down. Looking at Stacy, I breathed a sigh of relief that I was able to get away with that conversation without waking her up.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to keep a straight face.

“Oh,” was all I said. “How long have you been awake?”

“When you were in the shower, I just couldn’t be bothered to open my eyes, and then you picked up the phone and it wasn’t hard for me to put one and one together and so I just listened to the conversation.”

“Oh. Well, surprise I guess.”

Stacy chuckled and turned over onto her back and lifted herself up so her head was resting on the wall behind.

“I guess this is the best time to relinquish myself of another secret as well,” I began, sparking Stacy’s curiosity.

“Oh,” she said, “and what secret may this be.”

“When you’re ready, we’re taking a trip through London and visiting the shop, Harrods, where you are then free to roam around and have the best shopping spree of your life.”

“You never mentioned this,” Stacy said.

“Well, I wouldn’t, would I? It’s a surprise.”

“No, I mean, you didn’t mention you had another surprise.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “sometimes the best way to keep a secret is to not allude you’ve got one,” I said.

“Wise words,” she smiled, and then she turned the topic back around again. “Well, are you going to phone reception to say I’m awake or not? I’m hungry here.”

“Right, yes, of course,” I snapped to attention and grabbed the phone.

***

It’s not often I take trips across London, but when I do, it’s usually on a Sunday, and that’s normally on the worst day of the week. Logically speaking, the busiest day should be on the Saturday, because who wants to do something hectic the very day before going back to work; they rather do it all on Saturday and then have the last day of the weekend comparatively doing nothing. However, logic isn’t usually right. Sunday is the busiest day of the week.

The underground started off relatively OK. The further you go from the centre of London, the less dense the population is. The closest you get to the centre the more people are on the trains. When we stepped on the train in the morning, we were greeted with plenty of seats to choose from. As the journey went on, more and more people stepped on, and soon we there were more people standing than sitting, squeezing passed each other in an attempt to get on or off. We wisely sat by the doors, so we wouldn’t have too far to go when we get to our station, which, when I looked at the map above, was next.

Stacy was excited for her shopping spree. Touring around the country has granted me the gift of a comfortable lifestyle, and it’s not often I get to enjoy that with the one I love. I hadn’t seen Stacy is such a long time. We had to separate for a while whilst she was completed her assignments and I went up to Scotland to perform a couple of nights in Aberdeen. That time apart unfortunately coincided with our five-year anniversary. We celebrated it by having a long chat, and we prepared for it by giving each other gifts beforehand, but it was a shame we weren’t actually together, in the same room.

I wanted to commemorate our five-year relationship by doing something extremely special, and incorporating the very reason why we couldn’t be together. I thought of it the very day it was announced we were to perform in Wembley Arena and Stacy confirmed she would attend. I set aside a decent amount of money so she could purchase whatever she wants without hesitancy.

Of course, she will hesitate. Stacy is a bit paranoid when it comes to money, and understandably so; as life continues, naturally our expenses increase. We approached the banks in an attempt to join accounts. Have one big account where all our money sits, so my money is hers, but they wouldn’t cooperate. They explained that because we weren’t living together, we aren’t qualified to share accounts. I always believed it was possible to do that no matter the circumstances, but apparently not. They did say a lot more, but it was so full of legal jargon most of it went flying over our heads and as far as I’m concerned, if Stacy, a lawyer struggles to understand it, then something must be made up somewhere. No matter, though, because I do help her out as much as I can, by transferring money across when she needs it, but she very rarely asks for it, whether it be for something she wants or out of necessity. I’ve tried just transferring it across despite her rejections, but she got really angry with me – although she did say thanks afterwards.

Today, I want her to enjoy spending money. Which is why I have thought of a backup plan. I explained to her that I’ve booked a personal shopper to walk around with us and take what she wants to buy to behind the till and when she’s done looking, it’ll all be ready for her to make one big purchase.

I know Stacy will worry about how much something will be and hesitate. She’ll pick it up, look at it, show interest, and then see the price tag and put it back with the impression she now hates it – which is only a cover up to how she really feels about it. When I was booking the personal shopper, I asked if they could make a note for them to make a note of everything Stacy looks at, show interest in but hesitate to buy. Then, when we’re out of eyeshot, the personal shopper will take what she wants to the till anyway. Stacy will buy what she wants, and I’ll buy what she is hesitant with, and when we’re having dinner in one of the café’s in Harrods, I can surprise her with all the gifts.

I’m actually quite nervous about the idea. More nervous that performing last night. I don’t want Stacy to catch us in the act. I’m expecting her to be a mixture of angry for keeping secrets from her, surprise for what I did, and hopefully happy that I did what I hope she’ll consider a romantic gesture.

The train slowed down at our station and the doors opened. We fought our way out and headed for the exit.

“I’ll never get used to the underground,” Stacy said.

It was such a relief to finally be making our way to the surface. Even though it wasn’t complete fresh air, as it was possible to feel the thick fumes in our naval passages, but it was still much better than the cramped, hot atmosphere of the underground, tenfold.

“Right, which way is Harrods,” Stacy said.

“This way,” I pointed to my right. I memorised the map off by heart before coming here so we didn’t waste time getting lost and awkwardly asking people. Plus, I can show I had planned literally everything so she didn’t have to worry at all.

The busy paths of London made it difficult to walk side by side. Most of the time we spent in single file, with me in front as I knew where we were going, so I had to turn around now and again just to make sure Stacy hadn’t been swept away by the ferocious current of people going in the opposite direction.

When we approached Harrods and stepped inside, it was completely different. Most shops we passed along the way were standard, but this was posh. This was clean. Compared to the hectic environment outside, this was calm and collected. There may be many people walking around, but no one seemed stressed. Harrods interior welcomed everyone, allowing them to shop with peace and content.

“Wow,” Stacy exclaimed. We’ve been here only once before, but that was on separate occasions with our families, actually a little bit before we met.

“I know, right,” I confirmed. It doesn’t matter how many times we enter it is still breath taking.

“Where do I even start?” Stacy asked.

“Wherever you want,” I answered.

“Not helping,” she smiled.

“Well, why not start in the technology section.”

“Good idea,” her enthusiasm increased considerably. I’ve been in search for a new keyboard for ages, just have found the right one. Hopefully I can here.”

“But first,” I said.

“What?”

“I would like to introduce you to your personal shopper,” and I took her over to a counter, gave my name the man behind asked to wait a minute whilst one came along.

“You booked a personal shopper?” she asked, more out of surprise than curiosity.

“Well, we may not be able to hold everything you want, so why not them be taken to the till beforehand.”

“How much do you think I’m going to buy.”

And this is the part where I reveal just how much she has to play with. I pulled out a piece of paper in my pocket, unfolded it and handed it over to her.

“WHAT‽” she shouted, making a couple of people look over. “Are you playing with me?”

“Now why would I do something so cruel?” I genuinely asked.

 “You can’t expect me to spend this much?”

“Then don’t,” I said simply, “But it’s there if you want to.”

There wasn’t anything else she could say to that. Stacy just looked aghast at the piece of paper, then back at me, trying to figure out if I’m joking. I think she’s waiting for me to crack a smile and say it’s all fake, but it is indeed all real.

“Mr. White,” our personal shopper appeared out of nowhere. “My name is Tim and I will be your personal shopper for today.”

***

Stacy acted exactly as I predicted. Before we even reached the technology section, she spotted a nice handbag. It caught her eye and she stopped in her tracks. I almost walked into her, and the personal shopper into me, but she didn’t notice. She was captivated by the how the bright blue bag sparkled in the light.

However, before she picked it up and had an actual look at it, she saw the price tag: £250. Yeah, that is certainly a lot of money, but it isn’t today. Stacy saw the price tag and even though she knew there was enough money to cover the cost, she still backed away.

I discreetly winked at the personal shopper who subtly nodded in response. When Stacy moved on, I saw the personal shopper pick it up and head to the counter, where he had a word with the person there.

It was my job to stall Stacy so Tim could catch up with us. I hope my actions don’t give too much away.

“Hey, Stacy,” I called. She stopped and turned around.

“Two-hundred and fifty pounds is too much money,” she countered my point before I could even say anything.

Tim had caught us up. Even if he hadn’t, I wasn’t sure if I could keep the stalling going for much longer – I forgot to come up with a good set of lines. I may have thought of a lot, but I haven’t thought of everything. All I can do is keep moving with Stacy and hope she doesn’t figure it out.

The rest of the shopping spree went incredibly well. Much better than I thought.

She brought a few things, and hesitated on more, and all of the latter went behind the counter.

It was now my mission to separate from Stacy for a few minutes whilst I go and purchase all that she hesitated on and regroup back at a designated location, preferably at the café upstairs.

“Hey, Stacy,” I caught her attention. “There are a couple of things that I saw on our way round, and from what I saw earlier, the café is quite busy. I was wondering, do you want to order and find a seat and I’ll meet you a few minutes.”

She was thinking about something. There was something flickering through her expression that made me wonder if she had figured it out.

“Sure,” she said, “see you later,”

“Yeah,” I said, a little taken aback by her abruptness, “see you later.”

She turned round and headed away, leaving me to carry out my mission.

Oops, I forgot to give Stacy my order. She didn’t even ask what I wanted to eat. That does strongly imply she knows what I’m up to, but I can’t really be sure, and of course it would be rude of to ask her later. Well, if she does know, she hasn’t exactly stopped me, but if she doesn’t know, she’s certainly acting differently.

***

At the café, when I appeared having successfully purchased all that she wanted which would be brought up to us a little later, once we’re both settled at our tables. She was sitting at an empty table, but the moment I sat down, two plates showed up as if it was planned that way.

“Prawn cocktail sandwiches,” I said. They were my favourite. Stacy obviously knew that from being in a relationship with me for five years, so it was easy for her when I didn’t give my order before.

I may be a bit paranoid, mainly because I want it to be perfect.

Any minute after we’ve had our food, our personal shopper will show up with all the stuff Stacy was hesitant about getting.

And that’s exactly what happened. After we cleared our plates and the waitress took them away, our personal shopper showed up out with everything Stacy was hesitant on.

“What’s this?” she asked Tim.

 “These are for you,” he said casually, “and I believe Darren has all the answers.”

She looked at me, and smiled. She had figured it all out. When, I wasn’t sure, maybe right from the beginning, but whenever it was, she certainly didn’t show anything specific, just enough to get me thinking, but it would be impossible to have figured it out and remain stone faced about it.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

***

That evening, when we were in our hotel room, Stacy was trying on a bunch of clothes. She would disappear into the bathroom for a few minutes and come out with the question, “how do I look,” to which I respond with the answer, “beautiful,”

I was sitting on the bed, flicking through the TV channels trying to find something interesting to watch, but only ever finding stuff no one had ever heard of before and wasn’t at all intriguing – the usual stuff found in Hotels.

Once she had her favourite piece of clothing on, a plain purple dress, she asked.

“How do I look?”

I turned to face her. “Beautiful,” I said.

“You always say that. Why do you always say that?”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Well, say something different.”

“OK. Stacy, you’re gorgeous, stunning, amazing, lovely, and above all, attractive and sexy.”

“Objection!” she said.

“On what grounds,” I said, shocked.

“You’ve never said I was sexy before.”

“Well, it would be wrong to not say it when you’re wearing that dress,” I elaborated.

Stacy’s plan had worked. This had no become a full on simulation of the court room.

“I have to reveal that I did figure it out when Tim took the item away. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t hard to deduce from there.”

“I knew it,” I said.

“I also knew that it would be rude to announce I’ve worked it out, because I knew how much it meant to you, so I played along.”

“That’s why you didn’t ask me for my order,” I said.

“Admittedly, I didn’t tweak that you didn’t say what you wanted until I got to the café, but prawn cocktail is your favourite and they did that in sandwiches, so it was easy to order. I then asked if they could serve it when you arrived, to keep it fresh, and they agreed, and then I waited. I tried to be as surprised as possible, but I do apologise if I didn’t sound like it.”

“No, you had me convinced,” I confirmed.

“Then I would consider today a successful one,” she smiled.

“I would say so, too.”

“Did you honestly think you could fool me, though?” she asked a little sternly. I’m not suggesting this is a make or break question, but I had to get my words straight before I spoke, and Stacy picked up on my hesitation.

“By hesitating, may I suggest you’re trying to word your answer to make it sound as if you didn’t think me as a fool.” I had to replay that sentence in my head a couple of times before I made sense of that.

“I attempted to keep it as a surprise, by orchestrating all the necessities in the correct order, and I was nervous you would figure it out and spoil the main event at the café. However, I had my suspicions you had figured it out almost immediately, because I had no control over Tim’s actions, just had faith he would keep his movements less obvious. Unfortunately, he didn’t do that, and I will take the blame for not preplanning a safe way to make sure the items were stored safely at the tills. I’m appreciative of not saying anything to keep the secret, from my perspective, vintage, and I know your reactions to the items when given to you at the café were genuine due to now actually owning them all. If you hadn’t revealed you figured it out, I would have asked if you had anyway. I knew it would be difficult to keep a secret from you, but you can’t prosecute me for trying to surprise you in what I consider an extremely romantic gesture.’ I ended my speech with a smile, and a flutter of the eyebrows.

Stacy analysed my words, and appeared to be satisfied with them.

“No further questions.”

***

Do you remember the first time you died? To be honest, it’s a stupid question, because it’s designed for someone else to answer, but instead I’m the only one who can. I do remember the first time I discovered I was immortal. How can I forget. It’s when the world ended. It’s when everyone else died. It’s when my family and friends, my girlfriend and her family, all died.

We both went to bed happy. Today was a successful day. I went to sleep with a smile on my face, knowing we’ve got one more day together before Stacy goes back home. I didn’t have anything planned, so we could just hang out around the area.

But when I woke up the next morning, Stacy didn’t. At first I thought it was just as it was before, when I woke up first and she would a few minutes later.

Except, she was cold.

To Be Continued...