Page 31 of A Wistful Symphony

You look down again and give a swift nod.

That’s all I need. In the next second, I’m asking everyone to excuse me as I pull you away from the swarm of people.

The crowd is grand and closing in every second.

Since everyone has their heads fixed on the sky, my pleas for room fall on deaf ears.

There isn’t enough air. I can’t breathe.

An urge to push everyone away screams into my head, but I barely have the strength to ask people to move.

A panic attack looms—which would help neither of us—when a familiar face appears in my line of sight.

“Ollie,” I cry, utterly relieved. “Ollie!”

“Eric!” His smile fades instantly. “What’s happening?”

“We need to get out of here. Can you help?”

“Sure thing.”

Ollie turns into our bodyguard, shoving away everyone standing in front of us with screams and yanks. Many people shout curses at him, but I couldn’t care less.

Your trembling grows and your steps are unsure, sometimes stumbling on yourself. I cover your ears, hoping it will keep you going. I need to get us out of this place. To somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe.

“Ollie, are we close?” I ask, my eyes no longer focusing.

“Almost there,” he shouts.

After a few excruciating minutes, the crowd turns sparse, giving enough room for us to sprint away from the main area.

“Where’s his car?” Ollie asks.

“In the parking lot past the end of the field, but I don’t think Andrew can drive now.”

Ollie turns to you. “If you give me the keys, I can drive you both home.”

I gently shake your arm. Like waking from a nightmare, your trembling hand reaches for your pocket and fishes out the keys.

Once the fireworks are over, our pace slows to a stride and we finally breathe easier. We pass the booths to the open field, vacant near the end of the festival. There’s hardly any light. If not for the full moon, we wouldn’t see a thing.

Just a few more meters to the parking lot and this is over , I think, before a raucous blast—much closer than the ones before—makes my heart jump in my chest. You startle and shiver by my side, making me fume at the offending noise.

“What the bloody hell is going—” A second blast makes me flinch, and you let go of my arm to cover your ears. You crouch on the grass, shaking violently with your eyes shut tight, and I don’t know what to do to soothe you other than rage at whoever is making you feel this kind of terror.

Benson and his minions stand nearby in the field, shooting cheap fireworks that make more noise and smoke than actual light. My nostrils flare.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I walk in their direction. “Keep an eye on Andrew for me.”

“Eric, what are you—” Ollie tries to grab me, but he’s too late.

“Hey you. Idiots! What the fuck are you trying to do, explode us?” I scream, my face livid.

“Go fuck yourself, Lowell.” Benson snorts. “Not my fault you wankers are scared of a little noise.”

“Your stupid prank is putting Andrew in a crisis, do you realise?”

“Not my problem if your cocksucker boyfriend is a wuss.”

“Shut your mouth, you festering fuck!”

“Oh, come on,” he sneers, laughing at me. “I’d love to see you make me.”

My burning stomach compels me to engage, fists clenched and teeth grinding, but before my recently gained courage can make me act, Matt Spencer launches a punch at my left eye.

The throbbing pain hits me, and a warm drop spilling down the side of my face tells me my brow is cut.

The swelling rapidly takes over, and my sight starts to blur.

“That’s for getting me soaked today,” he says before jabbing at me again. This time I duck, trying to hit him in the guts. Though I succeed, my weakling arms have little effect.

“Eric,” Ollie screams, holding Noah Talbot in an armlock; Talbot tries to escape, throwing punches at Ollie’s torso. Benson is still in the back, letting his mutts do the dirty work while he laughs and throws slurs at us. It’s been a long time since I’ve wanted to thrash someone this badly.

Spencer throws two jabs on each side of my face.

His fists hit me like a brick, and my lip bursts open.

It hurts so much I fear he might’ve broken my teeth.

With a final blow to my stomach, I fall to the ground, curling forward and holding my belly.

I cough and heave once or twice, before the snacks we ate earlier spill all over the grass.

“Gross,” he sneers. “You’re such a loser, Lowell.”

“Hey, Matt, get out of there,” I hear Benson scream. “Lemme give this wanker a scare!”

He points a firework in my direction. I try to scream, but nothing comes out. All I can do is hold up a hand, begging for him to wait.

“The fuck you trying to do, Benson?” Ollie cries, face bloodied, trying to untangle from Talbot. “Eric! Get up now!”

It’s too late.

I barely have time to move when the firework goes off right next to me.

A thundering blast knocks me to my side.

Everything hurts, but my ears sting like a bitch.

I raise a trembling hand to my right earlobe, and it comes away smeared in an ominous shade of scarlet.

I’m awfully dizzy and everything I hear is mixed with a deafening buzz that threatens to crack my skull.

“Shit! What did you do, Jamie? You’re only supposed to scare him!”

“Fuck! Let’s bail!”

“Eric? Eric! Can you hear me?”

Ollie’s startled and wide-eyed expression is the last thing I see before everything turns black.