Chapter Eleven

During the show, I almost felt like I was floating within a big, surreal bubble. There on the stage, was Rhys Ryan. In all of his magnificent glory. The super talented, the super amazing, the super sexy guy who had recently shared something so painfully private with me and the sweet man who had so tenderly kissed me hours before.

He was there, performing in front of me, and somewhere within my awe, I wondered whether I was actually of sane mind. Within the frenzied stadium, were thousands and thousands of sobbing girls and panting women, who would have given anything to have been me. Knowing that we had shared such intimate moments made me feel quietly superior. All to myself, as I captured epic photographs of him up on that huge stage, I felt aglow with pride. That pride had nestled within me because someone like him had briefly wanted me. That wanting of me may have only been for a fleeting moment, more than likely a weak moment on his part, but it was still a proud worthy moment, nonetheless. That settled pride was also rightly there because although my lips, my body and my heart, tried to tell me to just go for it...I didn't.

Believe me, that was hard.

I wanted to go for it, but knew that I shouldn't.

I couldn't give in to Rhys Ryan and I couldn't give in to myself.

But seeing him up on that stage. Watching him sing in the beautiful way that he does, it felt like he was crawling right into my soul.

Now, I am left wondering whether I should go to the after show party. The interview is complete. I have more than enough photographs. I have Cameron's number, should I need anything. There really isn't any reason for me to attend, other than my need to see Rhys Ryan just one last time. His worldwide tour has sadly come to an end and so has my 'Access All Areas' to him. I think I should also end whatever is beginning to grow inside of me. Those growing feelings are feelings that I shouldn't have. With everyone around me being totally hyped after the stunning show finale, feelings for Rhys ripple silently within me.

Maybe I should have just ran along with my feelings?

Maybe I should have just allowed myself to kiss Rhys Ryan back without worrying about the consequences?

Maybe I should have listened to him more and less to myself?

All of those maybes now taunt me as the finality of everything starts to invisibly weigh me down.

The last show has ended.

Rhys Ryan will return to America soon.

My surreal bubble has sadly popped.

Why didn't I just have some secret fun with him?

Kissed him without care.

Laughed without care.

Cuddled without care.

Surely, some little naughty and short-lived fun would have been far better than long-lived regret? Now, I face having to say an awkward goodbye. I have contemplated just slipping out quietly without saying anything to anyone, but that would come across as rude and unprofessional. After being allowed to follow Rhys Ryan and his entourage, the very least I can do is thank them all for it.

It's common courtesy, isn't it?

My plan is to push my way through all the buzzing and invigorated dancers, singers, musicians, technicians, venue organisers, crew members, engineers—a vast amount of hyped up people—to say my thank you's and my final goodbye's.

The first familiar face I see, is Jules. "Hey, are the rest of the guys over there?" I point to the far right side of the dimly lit backstage area.

With his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes, he quickly pushes it back with his comb-like fingers. "Um, not sure...I think we're all kinda scattered!" Shrugging, he smiles a little as he tries squeezing past someone.

"Okay." Is my disappointed reply to Jules. Looking out at the busy backstage area, I realise my quick thank you's and goodbye's may take a little longer than I had hoped for. "In that case, I just wanted to say thanks for this weekend. I'm heading home soon, so just trying to find everybody before I do." I tell Jules, smiling up at him.

He winks at me, quick but sweet. "No probs, Clara...lovely to meet you." With a casual wave, he is soon swallowed up by the crowd.

With a deep sigh, I'm now looking at where to head to next. In the end, I just keep weaving in and out of strangers until I see another familiar face. It's not too long until I bump into Will, who is carrying two bottles of beer in his slightly raised hands as he tries to manoeuvre through the throng of people without spilling a drop. "Why is there not a celebratory drink in your hand, Brit girly?" His playful frown and pout makes me laugh. "Seriously, where's your drink?" He asks again, less frown and pout this time.

Chuckling, I look up at him. "I'm not drinking because I'll be going soon."

"Woah! You're going?" His moss green eyes widen on me as his face slackens with surprise. "What do you mean you're going?"

All of a sudden, his tallness seems to overshadow me. All 5ft 4 inches of myself stands straighter in order to feel less small against the brawn but sweet guy that demands to know why I am leaving. "I'm pooped!" I keep my reply light and jovial, Will doesn't need to hear the very complicated truth.

"Then I'll get you an energy drink." He casually says with an over exaggerated wink. "Have you seen Rhys?"

Going along with his casual theme, I softly shake my head. "Not yet. I've been looking for him because I want to say thanks for everything."

All of the playfulness starts to leave his face. "He was looking forward to you joining the after show party, Clara."

Shifting my feet, I guiltily nod. "I know, but I really am tired." My pathetic excuse feels more like a barefaced lie to Will, which makes me feel guiltier still.

Sensing that something is wrong, Will quietens his voice so that only I can hear him. "Has something happened?"

Reacting strongly, I shake my head from side to side. "No, just exhausted, that's all."

He shoots me a suspicious glance. "Clara?" His voice deepens with concern.

Smiling, I brush off his concerns. "Seriously, everything is fine. I just need a decent night's sleep. Go and enjoy yourself." I pat him on his chest, really wanting to hug him.

Being the sweet and intuitive Will that he is, and with the beers being held safely between his long fingers, he gives me a funny kind of elbow hug. "Rhys isn't going to be happy, you know that, right?"

Shrugging half-heartedly, I grin. "He'll get over it, I'm sure."

Pulling back from our comedic elbow and beer hug, Will is once again very serious. "Make sure you go and find him...he was talking to a bunch of the musicians just over there." He points somewhere to the far left before turning his attention back to me. "Go!" He means it, but says it with a smirk.

Teasingly, I salute him. "Yes Sir!" But before leaving Will and his beer to fight their way back through the backstage gathering, I stand on tippy toes to place a grateful kiss on his cheek. "Thanks for everything, Will."

Looking truly touched, he warmly smiles down at me. "Go!" His eyes flick up in the direction that he pointed me towards just a moment ago.

Smiling, I turn and obediently go where he gestured that I should. Half of me is excited to see Rhys, the other half is dreading it. Carefully and slowly, I snake my way through lots of people. No matter what face I look at, I never seem to find the one face that I am looking for. I am even beginning to think that I'll never find him. Backstage is still alive with effervescent energy. Chatter is loud, laughter is louder. There are unfamiliar faces everywhere. As I ease my way around a ginormous speaker, I finally bump into the very face that both excites me and fills me with dread. "Clara, I've been looking for you." Rhys looks a mixture of worry and relief. "Did you want to change for the party in my dressing room?"

Reluctantly, my eyes lower to the floor. "I am really tired, Rhys. I had zero sleep last night. Today and tonight has been full on. We have finished the interview, finished the photos...I'm just ready for my bed now."

Tilting and lowering his head, his soulful eyes start penetrating mine. "Is this because of what happened earlier?"

Shaking my head, I force out an awfully fake smile. "Of course not! I'm just—"

"Knackered." Rhys intercepts my reply, without any humour or teasing whatsoever this time.

Softly sighing with a sorry smile, I nod. "Yes, I am."

Rhys steps a little bit closer. "I really want you to come, Clara?" He isn't begging. He isn't upset. He is calm and all too serious.

Wincing, I'm really in two minds about this damn party now. I want to go but I don't want to go. Both have very valid reasons why I should choose them. "I'm not sure." I hesitate to say one way or another.

Knowing that I'm on the cusp of agreeing to go, Rhys dives right in with even more of his charm. "Even if it's just for a little while?" His eyes widen with cute and boyish expectation. Then he does this playful doe-eyed thing. "If me and my lips promise to behave ourselves, will you come?" He's really laying on the boyish charm now; thick and sickly sweet.

Unable to say no to the rather adorable him, I roll my eyes with a pursed grin. "Oh, alright then." I finally agree.

Thoroughly pleased, he flashes me the broadest of smiles. "Cool!" He is almost bouncing now, enthusiastically clasping his hands together. Glancing down at my clothes, he then asks. "Are you wanting to take me up on that offer of changing now?"

Eagerly nodding, I grin again. "That would be great." Lifting my arm slightly higher, my large bag falls more comfortably into the crook of it. "I won't be too long." I say, now feeling keen to freshen up.

"I'll walk you down." Rhys sweetly says.

Together, we meander through a plethora of happy and excited people. Most of them verbally or physically congratulate Rhys on an epic show, which it absolutely was. He walks with ease and confidence, checking that I'm not too far behind him. Once we reach his dressing room, he opens the door and just peeps inside. "It should be empty." He says, only allowing me in once he knows that no one else is inside. "I'll see you in a bit, then?" His kind eyes and natural smile are luckily for my benefit only.

Standing just inside of the doorway, I feel grateful to him for giving up his private dressing room for me. "Thank you, Rhys." His name is said with softness, much more personal softness.

In an equally soft way, he says. "My pleasure, Clara." Closing the door behind him, he and his charming smile are soon gone from the quiet room.