My story with her

Dreams

The shift ended around nine. I went back home, took a cold shower, then lay down on the couch and lazily flipped through the channels. I left the TV on a local news station, turning the volume up so I could hear it clearly throughout the house. Then I headed straight to the bathroom and started showering again. Every inch of me longed for the water, as if I hadn’t showered that morning. I quickly satisfied that craving and stepped out, heading toward the kitchen, where my mother had prepared some sandwiches for me.

With the first bite of the sandwich, the presenter decided to choke me with good news. I heard him say that the great artist Sydney Watson would be coming to Brighton on Wednesday— the day after tomorrow. I rushed into the living room where the TV was, holding my plate of sandwiches, slightly choking from swallowing a bite I hadn’t chewed properly.

The presenter continued: the show would be at four o’clock at the Brighton Grand Theatre. I was incredibly excited to hear that. I truly love her songs. In fact, the only part of my life where I feel like a real human being—someone who loves, hates, gets excited, and wishes—is when I’m listening to Mrs. Watson’s music.

I turned off the TV and headed to my room, humming one of my favorite songs:

There is no glory without fight

There is no thunder without light

On my way, I feel lost

Am I a demon, am I cursed?

I’ve got no patience, there is no fate

I thought this was better

But it’s getting worse

Am I a demon, am I cursed?

I lay down on my bed and pulled £100 out of my pocket to book a ticket for the concert in the morning. Then I drifted off to sleep, still humming the rest of the song—present with every word in it.

Morning came, and the first thing I did was call William:

“William, hey—how are you? I need a small favor—”

Before I could finish, he cut me off.

“Yeah, I know. Tell George I’m sick and that I need two days off. I’ll cover for you for two days.”

“Yes… anything new?”

“I don’t think so. Enjoy the concert, my friend!”

“William, you’re the best—sometimes,” I said with a smile, then hung up.

It was obvious he knew what I was going to say. Truth is, I only ever call him when I’m going to skip work—and I only skip work when there’s a concert for Sydney Watson.

Anyway, I took a quick shower, had a light breakfast, and headed out toward the theatre ticket office. The Brighton theatre wasn’t exactly close to home, but it wasn’t far either. I got on my bike and set off, still humming the same song from yesterday.

After a long ride, I reached the ticket booth. It was incredibly crowded—which was only natural. This was Sydney Watson we were talking about.

I stood there watching people push and shout, preparing myself to dive into the chaos. And to be honest, I hate crowds and noise—who doesn’t? But for Sydney… it was all worth it.

Just before I stepped into the crowd, a girl came to stand beside me. She looked like she had just arrived. She sighed in frustration and said,

“Great… looks like some people slept here last night. How am I supposed to get here any earlier than this? This is insane.”

I smiled. “But it’s worth it, isn’t it?”

She smiled back. “Yeah… it is.”

“Hi, I’m Elsa.”

“And I’m Alexander. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Alex.”

We exchanged the usual formalities and talked a little about tomorrow’s concert. Then Elsa asked me to help her get a ticket. After a heroic effort and a painfully long queue, I finally made it to the front and bought the tickets.

When I walked out, Elsa was waiting. I handed her ticket over, she thanked me, and we each went our separate ways.

It’s not like me to help someone I don’t know. Honestly, it’s not even like me to talk to someone I don’t know—let alone help them. But today was different. Today… was different.

And speaking of conversations… it was time for my usual talk with my beloved cigarettes.

My beautiful cigarettes must have missed me just as much. I pulled one out, lit it, and began to sing to it:

There is no glory without fight

There is no thunder without light

On my way, I feel lost

Am I a demon, am I cursed?

I’ve got no patience, there is no fate

I thought this was better

But it’s getting worse

Am I a demon, am I cursed?