All morning Alex felt guilty, sending pitiful glances at Annabelle from across the bus. She was sitting on the floor, her legs crossed tightly, playing Left4Dead. She was getting really into it, and occasionally yelling out, to Jack’s delight.
“FUCKING ZOMB-JACK, RIAN, HELP ME OFF THIS LEDGE. FUCK GUYS HURRY UP!”
Jack was too busy trying to recover from hysterics, and Rian was the one who saved her from falling.
“Why do they even have ledges?” Annabelle grumbled as she ran the wrong way down the balcony.
“So they can catch out noobs.” Zack replied, rifling zombies in another room.

“Hey!” Annabelle yelled in protest. “At least I own at Guitar Hero... Where are you guys?!”

The morning continued as such and Alex updated his blog with an ambiguous post about his feelings which he hoped, for a fleeting moment, Annabelle would read. He needed to talk to her alone, as he felt his apology the night before did not satisfy his guilt. He watched the girl hack zombies in half, and noticed that the sustained thoughts he was experiencing since last night were not mutual. Regardless, he wanted to apologise again. Annabelle had paused the game, without him realising, and was sitting next to him drinking some water. He watched her bony wrist, and his eyes followed her thin arm until her shoulder, where they darted up to her face. She smiled at him, leaning over his arm to look at his laptop.
“What are you doing?” She asked, reading the post still up on his blog. He though about minimising it before she had finished, but the feeling of her breasts on his arm made him lose all trains of thought. He coughed, swallowed, cleared his throat.
“I-”
“I didn’t know you had a blog.” She smiled, moving away to lean back on the seat. “Beautiful writing.”
“Yeah, I do.” He replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck and trying not to look at her collarbones. “Thanks.”
She watched him for a moment, taking in the colour in his cheeks, before laughing slyly. He gave her a questioning look, but she only shrugged in reply, finishing the dregs in her glass.

As she got up from the seat, her visioned blackened, and a horrible feeling of vertigo took over. She swallowed. She grabbed onto the chair. She felt herself sway in her shoes as she tightened her eyes closed. The feeling passed. Alex touched her hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Huh?” She grinned, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just got vertigo, y’know?”
He nodded. He didn’t know. 
“Maybe you better sit down for a while.”
She smiled, nodded. Alex closed his computer and walked her to the couch. Zack and Jack had already moved on to a game of CoD. Rian had retreated to his bunk, they could hear a phone call taking place, probably to his girlfriend Kara. Annabelle watched city scenery go past; a main street lined with blossoms, apartment blocks and generic shops.
“Wow!” Annabelle said, pointing out a range of distant snow-capped mountains. Alex watched her excitement.

“Yeah.”
People on the street watched the bus go by, teenagers pointing it out to their friends. What lay behind the dark windows was a mystery to them.

***

Alex had not managed to get Annabelle alone all afternoon, and now, before the show, he felt anxious and restless. He wanted to talk with her. Annabelle didn’t stand backstage, a small fear of walking awkwardly along the expanse of raised platform still dwelled within her. She hated herself sometimes, for being so silly. Alex had been acting strange all day, she sat in the bus, wondering what was up. Eventually she retrieved an unopened book from her bag, one she was supposed to read over Summer for school the following year. The first sentence hurt her brain. She checked her watch. It was six o’clock. The sun was still up, so she decided to go for a wander. She grabbed her bag with the essential things; wallet, phone, book.

After a short while, she came across an indoor market. It was situated on a sort of quay, and was bustling. She entered cautiously, she had a love for markets, fascinated by stalls selling home-made jewelry and batteries, or stalls of fudge and liquor. She decided it must be a night market, as the time of day was not hindering the amount of people inside. She wandered along, at her own pace, as people with chickens, hemp bags sprouting leeks, saplings, and arms displaying watches passed her, calling and shrieking. A pregnant mother with a pram dropped a bag of apples in front of her, apologizing and thanking her profusely as Annabelle bent to pick them up. A man with dreadlocks handed the woman the last apple and smiled at Annabelle, who returned the acknowledgement. She found herself at a stall selling candles, scented and unscented. She bought herself a short stumpy sandalwood one, for her room back home, and continued to wander.

Alex sipped beer as Jack paused to entertain the crowd. He exchanged a quick word with Rian, before running back to the mic to start Circles. He glanced backstage, Annabelle was still not there. He thought she would come and watch like she usually did, but she had not arrived, and it was getting late in the show. It must be all his fault. He watched the circle pit thrash, girls getting dragged out by guards, crowd surfers kicking. The relentless screaming was, for once, hurting his head.

Annabelle stepped out of the still bustling market at nine o’clock. She realised she had exited via a different door to that she had come in, and she looked around, trying to find anything familiar. Add-ons, pavilions and patios caused the market to be in a strange shape, as Annabelle found out by trying to walk around the perimeter. She was becoming more and more confused. She wondered what time the band would finish the show, and whether it was safe to call one of them now. She tried Rian, the most likely to pick up. It clicked straight to voicemail and she sighed, looking around for someone to ask. The street was quiet. She called Jack, whose phone rung out, Zack, who went straight to voicemail. She contemplated calling Matt, but decided that he would be far too busy, and she didn’t want to add another worry onto his list. She called Alex. He picked up after a few rings.
“Hello?”
Annabelle could hear the crowd screaming behind him.
“Are you on stage?!” Annabelle had to refrain from yelling into the phone, wary of the silent street she was in. He laughed.
“Yeah, I am!” He then held the phone away, yelling out to the crowd, “Everyone say ‘hi’ to our friend Annabelle!”
Annabelle jerked the screaming phone away from her ear, laughing.
“You’re a crazy cat. I should leave, you’ve got a show to finish.” She smiled to herself, that he picked up in the middle of a show, she could make out Jack in the background, entertaining the crowd.
“No, what’s wrong?”
“Aw, nothing.” Annabelle smiled, she couldn’t drag him away from the show. She decided she would call later, and in the meantime sit in a cafe and wait, or try and find her way back.
“Why did you call?”

“Just wondering when you finished...?” She half-lied.
“15 minutes?” He replied, and they exchanged good-byes.

Alex leapt toward the mic once more, wondering about the motives of the girl. Jack sent him a questioning look, but he could only shrug in return. The show must go on. Alex slammed on his guitar, trying to push the building worries out of his mind. She sounded like she was outside, where could she be? What if she gets hurt? He suddenly remembered her guts the night where he drank too much. He smiled, of course she could take care of herself.

Annabelle wandered the streets, trying to find a main road. By nine forty-five, she was in a suburban area, no sign of the market, or the venue. She wished she had a smart phone, one where she could click a button to get to a map or a GPS. She wandered into a park with a small playground, she sat on a swing and texted Alex; ‘finished?’ Swaying back and forth, kicking tanbark with the toe of her shoe. She was starting to feel quite cold, but she wasn’t threatened by the increasing darkness, or the foreign place. She jumped at the feeling of her phone buzzing in her pocket, and she fished it out.

“Hello?”
“Hey! Where are you?” It was Alex.
“I dunno.” She looked around and offered a street name. Alex repeated it to someone who was with him, she imagined Rian looking it up on his phone.
“I’m in a park, if that helps. How was the show?”
Alex again repeated the information, she noted a very slight distressed tone in his voice.
“It was good! I was a bit worried about you after you called.”
“Sorry!”
“Hey, don’t apologise! Okay, we know where you are, I’m going to come and get you, don’t move.”
Annabelle nodded, laughed at herself, and confirmed that she would not move.

She pocketed the phone and began to swing furiously. Kicking her legs up, trying to fling herself into the sky. She was surprised to find the swing had not been converted into one of those safety swings which she hated so much. Plastic playgrounds, banned round-a-bouts, children never got a chance to play anymore. Bruises and cuts and broken limbs were a part of life, she had learned that.

***

She was still swinging when she saw the figure form from the darkness. She squinted, trying to make the person out, a moment of fear rushed through her. She thought about tactics of kicking out while on the swing. The figure was walking briskly, and as the person came into view she noticed a sagging beanie, a hoodie, a particular swagger; it was Alex.