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The band had been separated for months, what in-between Georgia's back injury and celebrations spent with family. They all felt lost without one another, taking everything as a sign that they'd be reunited soon, from wedding bells to hearing each other's instruments in the streets. They'd found themselves unable to think of nothing but each other, nothing but the days since they'd seen the others, running out of fingers to count them.
Georgia had found herself forgetting the other's faces, Emily's pigeon blue eyes, Abigail's wide smile and Lizzie's pointy nose all seemingly erased from her memory. Enjoying the idea of her band making her feel this lonely, the fact she couldn't escape the pain of not having them around, not looking into each of their eyes every day and seeing nothing but adoration and devotion. Instead seeing the letters of their named every day, the familiar flow of each of their hands replicated by the flow of ink on "Get well soon" cards.
Emily once again woke up early. Her ragged, curly hair had frizzed up in the night as she'd turned in her sleep. Her sleep had been riddled with nightmares ever since the band had been split up. She'd seen repeats of memories, where she instead sat and spectated what was happening to her, aware she was powerless. Or she'd watch it happen to her partners. Their eyes welling with tears, their mouths covered so they couldn't scream. She watched it all with horror in her eyes, becoming more and more aware of how she'd save them. "The Avenging Angel" as they'd nicknamed her for the album. Sword in hand, righting a wrong. She found comfort in that, curling herself into a ball and trying to tune out everything, all she could hear and feel, as she tried to drift off, to much avail.
Abigail had barely stepped foot in her home for weeks. Sure, she'd been home for the nessecities, food, sleep, showering, but the rest, she'd spent roaming the streets of London with a pair of headphones brandished amongst her thick, dark hair. Desperate to just escape the thought of how she felt without them. How they might feel without her. The London rain they'd danced and performed in together felt chaotic and melancholy alone. Like it was missing something, or in Abigail's case, four things. The four puzzle pieces that completed the cityscape of her heart.
Aurora hadn't left her piano. Practicing the chords of their songs like a ritual. Practicing for the next time they saw each other. A repetitive loop of movements, like their tours. They'd perform, bow, "hang out" backstage, and continue to the next venue. She needed to continue the loop, but she felt inable to without them. Counting the ways she could replace the different moments of the timeline in her daily life. She'd knocked for Abigail a few times, but no luck. Everytime the house was empty. She wondered what'd become of them all. She knew Georgia was in hospital and the others had sprawled themselves across the city, yet she'd not heard from them. No texts, no calls. Nothing. Just silence. Silence among the chords she'd repeated for the fifth time that day.
Lizzie opened their phone to the group chat. Radio silence, as per usual. They lay in bed, sweating from the awkwardness but also the unbearable heat that had encapsulated London in the summer nights. The sun was setting in the west, where they knew Emily would be. They connected a pair of headphones to their phone and headed west, the London streets illuminated by the dimming June sunlight. They approached a light, grey-blue door. Inhaled slowly, before knocking to a familiar beat. They heard footsteps decending staurs quickly and ten seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing the short, blue-eyed brunette. She'd obtained bags under her eyes and smudged mascara but, depsite her appearance, Lizzie scooped her into their arms, stepping into the blue doored house holding their Angel close as she cried and cried. Longing for the others.
"I'm so happy your safe," She whispered softly into Lizzie's chest
"I know, I know," Lizzie repeated, stroking Emily's brown hair with their gentle hand, knowing it was all they could give her. Counting the ways to comfort as they held her.