Page 55 of Rewrite the Stars
‘They were called Déjà Vu but I’m not sure anyone here is old enough to remember them? We were shit-hot if I do say myself.’
The audience erupts. Of course, they remember Déjà Vu. Local radio loved them. The Irish media courted them. They were almost a household name all over the country.
I feel Jack’s eyes on me, and then Sophie’s, and then Harry’s. I casually look up, trying to look as surprised as they are.
‘I think he was their drummer?’ I stutter, doing my best to sound like I don’t care.
‘That’s so cool!’ says Sophie.
They seem to have bought it. Thank goodness. But the worst, or the best, I’m not sure which, is yet to come.
‘I loved living in Dublin,’ he says. ‘I stayed in a place by the sea where the beach was on my doorstep and the living was easy. But I have to say, I left here broken-hearted when it all went wrong for the band. I had to swallow my pride and head for pastures new,’ he says. ‘I had to start again.’
The audience sounds drop to a whisper as they listen to what he has to say next.
‘But my broken heart wasn’t only over the band, of course,’ he says, strumming his guitar again. ‘There was, as in most stories of heartache and loss, a beautiful lady who I also left behind.’
The crowd goes silent, making the sound of my heart thumping feel even louder.
‘She’s married now, I believe,’ he announces. ‘And I’m engaged to be married now as well, so life goes on.’
I have no idea where this is going. I think I’m going to be sick. What is he doing? What is he going to say? He’s talking about me. Oh Tom.
The audience erupts and cheers now and my head starts to spin.
‘But shit, it hurt!’ he says, strumming a little louder. ‘This is a song I wrote about that time of my life. In fact, I put it down one night in London a few months after we said goodbye. I was still missing having her beside me, I was pining for her. The song is simply titled “You”and I think it says it all. You guys can sing along if you know the words.’
He plucks the strings of his guitar, introducing a haunting, heartfelt melody that hits me straight in the gut from the very first moment I hear it. The arena goes dark and fans light torches on their phone, making me feel like I’m looking down onto thousands of tiny fireflies that move to the light, gentle rhythm and the sounds of his husky voice.
And at that Tom Farley and about ten thousand people burst into song, while I sit there dumbfounded, drinking in the words, and trying not to look as stunned as I am from deep inside.
Kept up, by the night rain
And the wind
Blowing through the cracks in the window frame
There’s little else to do
I’d be sleeping if I could, instead
Of thinking about you
I double back, down the back roads
of my mind
Retracing every step, every wrong turn and every crossed line
Memories running through
Wide awake in a dark room
Thinking about you
The verses trickle into a chorus that stings my heart and tells me how much I was on his mind for such a long time. I’m floating … I’m drowning in his voice.
In my heart I’ve made a pact
