Page 5 of Euphoria

For several days, Alex lost herself in the music. Hours on the stool inspired by the summer storms that kept rolling in and passing through, but now, the sunshine had returned. She’d barely eaten, barely slept, but something was missing, and she was frustrated when she couldn’t quite put her finger on it and find the solution. Everything just sounded so dreary.

Sultry nights that made sleeping difficult had rolled into hot, humid mornings. The sea was calm, reflective but for where it gently lapped the shore in the distance. The tide was on its way in, and the beach was relatively quiet still; she made a decision.

Stripping down and into her bikini, Alex wandered through the patio doors, across the decking before stepping down onto the sand and pebbles that battled for dominance. She walked until her toes were kissed by cool water and began to sink into the wet sand that had won out on this strip.

These were the moments she loved living here the most, before the tourists made their way down and set up for the day with towels and windbreakers spoiling the view. Only a few eager sunbathers had set up already, and they barely paid her any attention, which was nice. It was one thing being asked for autographs and photos when she was working, but at home, she just wanted that privacy.

The water was cold as it hit her knees and splashed up her bare thighs. She’d yelped and jumped back, laughing at herself when she got deep enough for it to reach her stomach, but once she was settled again, she took the plunge and dropped down into it until all that was visible was her head. Hair piled high on top of her head, she floated like a giant sea sponge.

As her body got used to the temperature, she began to swim, enjoying the movement of the small waves as she rose and fell along with them. It reminded her of the way music moved, each wave rising to a gentle crescendo and then falling away with a diminuendo only to start again in a riff that kept you hooked until it was time to bring in the conclusion in the form of a coda.

She flipped over onto her back and watched the blue sky and the one fluffy white cloud that was passing through. Maybe she should just retire now and enjoy this every day, she mused, because she could quite easily do that. Music would always be important to her, but she didn’t really need the money. She could just quietly disappear from the public forum and live out the rest of her life on the beach if everything went to plan.

That would be a life someone might want to join her in, wouldn’t it?

Rolling over again, she swam back to shore, standing when her feet touched the sand once more. Francine was coming by, and they had some things to go over before she went on a short tour of English cathedrals. She was looking forward to that in a professional sense. The sound in those buildings would be magical, and an experience she knew would send her senses into a hyper state.

Picking up her towel, she stood on the deck and looked out. More sunseekers had arrived and were setting up for the day. She was just grateful that the roads around here were noparking, and her house was gated on the roadside. It was a nightmare getting in and out of the village at times, which was why she didn’t bother, preferring to stay indoors and enjoy her surroundings without the need to venture out and deal with the issues fame brought with it. It was the payoff, of course; fame provided all of the luxuries she enjoyed, and she would pay her dues when needed to.

Sometimes though, the urge to go out and enjoy the world in a different way would win out, and often, she’d pull on a disguise and just wander the streets and bars as invisibly as she could. It always surprised her that barely anyone recognised her if she didn’t look the part. Not expecting to meet a celebrity, their brain didn’t put it together. Often, she would get,you remind me of someoneoryou look like that woman who plays piano. She’d just smile and say,yeah, I get that a lot.

When she was dry enough, she wandered back inside and picked up her phone. She hadn’t deleted the texts from the stranger, and as she re-read them, she wondered how she was doing.

Was she that lonely that a mystery stranger's love life was so interesting? Probably, she chuckled to herself. Stepping into her bedroom, she peeled away the damp bikini and hung it off the towel heater in the bathroom. Naked, she felt the chill and quickly headed into the shower. Hot water pounding down on her was what she needed as she thought about her day so far.

If she were honest, she’d actually enjoyed the conversation with her unknown friend. The anonymity provided a shield where she could talk about herself without the need to always think about every single word in case it was repeated, or worse, sold to a magazine. She hadn’t had that kind of friend since she was a teenager.

Maybe she needed to broaden her horizons where friends were concerned. Go out and meet new people. After all, she was using an anonymous missed call as her newest confidante; that wasn’t normal, was it?

By the time Francine arrived, looking like her very own copy of Meryl Streep inTheDevil Wears Prada, Alex was at least clean and presentable. She sat on the stool to her piano, going over a piece she’d written recently but wasn’t satisfied with, while Francine moved around the room, unable to sit still.

“I’ve organised all of the hotel accommodation. Suites in all but one, although they have said that the moment anything becomes free you will be moved to it. And yes, I was polite about it, but I made it very clear that Sasha Montgomery only stays at the very best hotels.” Francine was rambling as she moved around the room, running her hand through her hair occasionally, before she’d stop and stare at Alex to make sure she was paying attention.

By organising, she meant she had dealt with the relevant people who would organise it all for her, but Alex didn’t correct her.

Alex wasn’t sure that she cared much about the very best hotels. She just wanted some space and for it to be clean. She also wondered if Francine would ever say her stage name without the added R she seemed to always put in it. Sarshar seemed so…she heard her dad’s voice in her head.‘It’s poncy, why can’t she speak like normal people.’

“Okay,” was all she said in response, not that Francine seemed to notice because she was soon off again.

“And Exeter are being a little prissy about how many speakers we can have. I told them, listen, you want Sasha, you need to get with the program.” New York born and bred,Francine had a way with words and making you feel like you’d been naughty and were one step away from being made to sit in the corner and face the wall. “You know what he said?”

“No.”

“He said, sure, whatever you need. You know why?”

“No.”

“Because he knows losing you is gonna hit his little world like a nuclear reactor exploding, that’s why.” Francine used her hands dramatically to enforce the point.

Alex wasn’t sure that was the case, but she wasn’t about to disagree and have Francine launch into a diatribe of why she should have more faith in herself. She needed a drink, something sparkling and alcoholic but she couldn’t, not right now, not while she was readying for the tour. She needed a clear head at all times, otherwise, Francine really would take over.

Her phone buzzed on the countertop, and she reached for it while Francine took a call. The screen was dark. She tapped it to life, and she groaned internally. Why did she always seem to text whenever Alex had been thinking about her love life? It was like she had some inbuilt sensor that picked up on lonely thoughts and homed in.

Laurel: Hey, how are you?

Alexandra typed as she watched Francine push open the patio doors and step out onto the deck.

Alex: What do you want, Laurel?

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