Heather

7. a song that my muse always sings along to.

Fake Happy - Paramore.

10. a song my muse would do a striptease to.

9. a song that would play while my muse is having sex.

Nothing's gonna hurt you baby - Cigarettes after sex.

15. a song that my muse would play at their wedding.

18. a song that plays while my muse trains/works-out.

Lonely Gun - Cyn

20. a random song from my muse’s playlist.

Cass caught a glimpse of the redhead’s knee and grimaced. “You must have taken quite the spill there.” Cass had pretty much everything in the canvas tote, but she didn’t think to bring a first aid kit. “I wish I had a band aid or something.” Cass dug through her tote searching for anything that could help, but all she could find were a couple of granola bars, gum, and the other waters she had packed. Still she pulled out on of the plastic water bottles and handed it to the other girl. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I could probably find an EMT at a med tent or something. They always send the cutest ones to these events, maybe you’ll find your future spouse.”

“That’s alright, don’t worry. I’ve seen worse.” Heather reassured Cassandra as she tried to help with something else, appreciating the other’s good disposition to offer a hand. The redhead grabbed the bottle and used a bit of water to clean her hands before tapping a bit on the wound with the wet paper tissue. She giggled at the female’s suggestion though she couldn’t fully disagree. It surely offered an attractive repertoire of options but that wasn’t a priority of hers at the moment - it would’ve been if she hadn’t walked into that restaurant a few days ago. ”Well, someone from the medical field would be new for me but I believe my knee can wait if it comes with such possibility of commitment to be honest. I mean, third time's a charm right? If I’m gonna have another go at it and it’s meant to be the last one, I should probably look smarter.” Heather titled her head, putting more thought into the hypothetical situation than needed. “Besides, I think that I’ve already found one of those with whom my knee will continue to meet the ground while skipping stair’s steps but at least can get a broken heart mended...” She trailed off for a moment before focusing on Cass again apologetically. “Sorry, I’m Heather, by the way. Thank you. For the bottle. And being the first listener of my unnecessarily deep and spontaneous podcast about getting hurt and married.” She smiled widely, rolling her eyes a bit. “Oh but if you want to check them out, I can always fake cry in pain for a friend. As long as that grants me an invitation to the wedding, of course.”

    [  “Hey!” Lennon brightly greeted the person in front of her. “Have a bracelet! Compliments of That ‘70s Shop, and my brother’s after-party set at the ass crack of dawn!” she held out a simple beaded bracelet to the person in front of her, complete with a business card attached to it. It was an effective way to advertise; people love free shit. “And, if you come to the after party and see my brother’s set, I’ll throw in some drinks compliments of Trader Joe’s!” the woman added with a wink. Compliments was definitely a stretch, but they wouldn’t know that.

Heather was headed to the hotel room she had booked for the day, ready to change into the outfit Lennon had helped her put together for her moment on stage. Though the colorful bohemian dress was about to come off, the redhead could say it had been a success and she’d been asked where it was from many times. That was when she heard the familiar name of the shop and she couldn’t help eavesdropping on the conversation. She went to stand behind the tiny line of two people that had formed to pick up the free gifts and smiled at the female when it was finally her turn. “Woah, look who we have here. Miss sunshine is being caught red handed shamelessly promoting her brother’s set but not the set of That ‘70s shop number one instagram influencer.” She teased Lennon, shaking her head in faked disapproval. “Damn, guess I’ll have to go perform in my underwear now and you’ll have no choice but sliding through one of the Kardashian’s dms for better promo.” Heather chuckled and shrugged. “Just kidding, if you give me one of those and save some drinks for me, I’ll make sure it makes it to Harry Style’s wrist.”

Heather had gotten in touch with Bodhi a couple days after moving to Santa Monica a month ago. She’d always done that each summer or weekend she could afford to visit, letting him know when she’d be around to hang out - except the last summer when she hadn’t been able to make it due to an invitation to travel abroad where her ex proposed. That had only increased Heather’s need for a little getaway from her life in the big apple and she’d been looking forward to seeing her friend again. Though they’d been texting, she’d visited his father’s record store and been introduced to his sister, Heather hadn’t see him in person since their last summer together until now. Many things had changed but the excitement seeing his kind face through the ocean of colorful outfits was pretty familiar. “Hey, waves tamer!” She called approaching him, holding the two sodas she’d just bought though her phone service sucked and she hadn’t been able to find Benjamin. “Long time no see.” The redhead hugged him, resting the freezing cans on his back to mess with him on purpose.

Heather Bower at Santa Monica’s Pride.

Outfits: by @lennonhudson ‘s thrift store. Vocals and keyboard: Heather Drums: Jackie Guitar: Blake Bass: Taylor. Set time: 2pm Set length: 35 minutes Set on spotify: x

“Hey, do you need a water?” Cass asked with concern in her voice, it was hot, and the person she spoke too looked like they needed a drink. “I have a few extras in my tote.” She said whilst digging through a pride themed canvas tote bag she had ordered from Etsy a few weeks ago.

Heather should’ve know it wouldn’t be a good idea. She had stated she wouldn’t drink and she hadn’t yet. Her sober self was somewhat good at handling exotic footwear even through cobblestones but this was the exception. She had DIYed her Dr martens boots to match her outfit before finding this challenge in form of platforms at Lennon’s store. Now that she was understanding what Pride was about in regards to activities: if anything, flirting had been the easiest one so far. But other one hadn’t been a smart idea of hers. The woman held a paper napkin her newly bruised knee, tucking the sweaty red locks away from her face. “Oh, hi.” She said, looking up at the female and then admired the beautiful tote bag. “I wish I would’ve considered one of those to look that cool instead of these.” She smiled and nodded at her suggestion, knowing it would come in handy. “I was giving myself a pep talk to pour vodka over it. But dodging the bullet of dehydration to make it to that tent would be better.”

Ben listened to her speak, he was completely silent trying to fight back the tears that threatened to form. He was trying his best to keep it together, he really was. When she finally announced that Charles had passed, the world seemed to stop. The only thing keeping Ben in the present was the breeze that brushed against his cheek. His breath hitched when he tried to breathe. “Fuck, really?” His tears finally made their way streaming down his cheeks, and they only started to intensify when she explained that he probably spent his last night at the restaurant. “I’m sorry, I… I’m trying to keep it together, but you think this was the last place he visited before he died?” Life was such a precious thing, and the fact that Charles had spent his last night with friends at the restaurant relieved Ben somehow. It was good to know that his last night was a good one. “Heather, it’s not your fault. You don’t need to save everyone.” Ben was starting to calm down a little bit, but thinking about the night seven years ago, when Heather had saved him, sent waves through his chest. It was always tough to think about that night. He felt so stupid. There were so many thoughts running through his head that day and Ben just had to numb his brain, unfortunately his solution was almost his downfall. The only reason he was a alive right now was Heather coming to save him. Why couldn’t see that was enough? Ben thought she was better than most people for the way she saved him. “Heather?” His voice was nervous, “Can you just stay with me? I need to be with someone I think.” More tears fell down Ben’s cheeks, he hated that he was letting himself get so upset, especially in front of Heather. “I’m not going to to anything stupid I just don’t want to be alone, and I’ve missed you.” The last part slipped out, and now Ben couldn’t take it back. He hoped that wouldn’t make her uncomfortable. “We don’t have to stay here either. We can drive to the beach, or if you want to hang out at my place, I got a cat. He’s really helpful for dealing with sad stuff. I don’t live very far either, maybe five or ten minutes away.” 

Heather felt the lump in her throat when he mentioned needing to be with someone and only having a cat at his place. One of her biggest fears at night was assuming he could’ve moved on from her as she had tried to forget about him by picking out white dresses.Now she didn’t want to overthink what he was implying by needing company but Heather was sort of relieved. “Using your cat to persuade people into heading back home with you? Damn Odell, your game really went down hill since you wooed me with your drums.” She teased him lightheartedly, trying to help them both navigate through the sorrow and their unexpected encounter. “I appreciate it. I truly do. And I’d love nothing more. But I should be heading back home. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow and...” Those were mere excuses because the truth was that she wasn’t ready to jump through the rabbit hole again like this. She knew it’d only take a few more minutes around him to get lost in his eyes and behave as if everything that had happened when they were apart was water under the bridge. “But here, let me just...” She reached for a pen in her bag and gently took hold of his wrist to write her phone number across his skin. “You may want to join those in the kitchen at work tomorrow, do a lot of dishes because that’s permanent ink. You owed me one for that stupid tattoo I never got rid of.” She rolled her eyes playfully, speaking of his initial drawn on her hip. She took a few steps back and hesitated for a moment, gave him a nod before turning around. But giving him her back just like that when she wanted to stay so badly didn’t feel right. But she did it, regardless. She had done that so many times: gone to summer camp, gone to college, jumped to her ex-boyfriend’s arms in front of him, returned to college after his recovery at the hospital. But it still didn’t feel right. And she hoped the salty air would give her the courage to swallow her pride, stop chasing fake dreams and stick around eventually. “Oh, and Ben...” She looked at him over her shoulder. “I’ve missed you, too. Even I would die happily now. But don’t worry, that’s not on my plans. I really want to meet your cat first. So yes, don’t you dare do anything stupid either. And text me.” With one final curve of her lips, she finally crossed to road to catch a taxi and headed home.

Ben stood in silence for awhile. This didn’t feel real. He thought he had done everything in his power to avoid seeing her, not because he hated her, quite the opposite really. Seeing Heather sent many emotions through him, each one crashing in his heart like a heavy ocean wave. Still the girl was here, in his workplace. What could she possibly want from him? He looked down at the envelope she was holding out for him. Another wave of disbelief. Ringo. That was strange. The letter was clearly from Charles. What business did Heather have with Charles? More importantly, where was Charles? He hadn’t seen the older man in almost a month. Charles was a really important figure for Ben. He was the one encouraging him to keep going with his music career, even if it felt pointless to keep going. “I’m Ringo, yes. That is me.” He clarified, his words felt graceless. It was hard to keep his composure given the current circumstance. His high school girlfriend was in front of him, holding a letter that could only be from Charles. Of course he wasn’t able to speak right. “Look, I don’t know what sick joke this is, but you need to tell me what’s going on. This is all just freaking me out.” His chest felt tight. Ben knew that was the anxiety, he knew whatever was going on, couldn’t be good. Nothing coming out of his mouth felt right either. Was he going to let himself get hysterical at work, and in front of Heather? It felt harder to keep everything down, the more his feelings progressed. “He wasn’t delusional, I knew Charles. The guy came in here a lot, he helped me out a lot.” One tear had escaped from Ben’s eye but he was quick to catch it, in hopes that Heather wouldn’t see. “Can we go outside? I need some air.” He had a feeling that whatever was in that letter was going to make him even more upset, and he definitely didn’t want his coworkers to see that.

He hadn’t changed the slightest bit - or at least she was still really good at reading his silences and gestures like the back of her hand. She hadn’t changed either because it still made her feel miserable being the source of his pain once more. Heather nodded slightly when he suggested going outside to catch some fresh air and sat down on a wood bench. She stared at the few headlights of cars that would make their way down the road because she couldn’t find the proper words to communicate through something that was already understood: no matter how different their stories with Charles could be, he had taken both under his wing and shared with both his passion for music. “I met him when I was fourteen.” She broke the silence with a quiet tone after a couple minutes. She felt like she owe him her own explanation of her bond with the producer and why she had come looking for him. “Remember the summer of the band camp? He was in charge of a smaller group of us. He’d take us to the beach to catch the sunset and then we’d spend all night playing and writing by a bonfire.” She remembered, her lips curving into a nostalgic smile ever so slightly as she stopped holding back her tears. “We never really lost touch...and after I graduated I started visiting him almost every summer. Not last one...I-uh...I couldn’t make it last summer.” Her jaw was clenched and her chin shivered a bit. She had tried to be a good partner and joined her ex-fiancé in a business trip to Australia where he proposed to her. He knew she loved the beach but he never got she loved Santa Barbara’s beach. “He passed away about a month ago, Ben.” She finally concluded, wiping off the trails of some tears that had been hanging from her eyelashes with the back of her hand. “We talked on the phone that same day. He was going out with some friends to have dinner and now my best guess is he came here.” She nodded, blue eyes canning their surroundings hopelessly. “New York is 3 hours ahead of Santa Barbara but he’d always leave a message to let me know he had returned home safely. I waited for it. I called. He didn’t answer. I called the emergency services.” She took a shaky deep breath and closed her eyes in an attempt to speak the following words without breaking down entirely. “It was a heart-attack. This time I was late. This time I was late and I was at the other end of the country.” And for some reason she had found herself going through the same as when Benjamin had ended in the hospital. And he had been in her mind ever since because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how different the outcome would’ve been seven years ago had he been out of her reach...if he had in this exact same city as Charles had. But she didn’t mention this, though it wasn’t hard to notice the strong connection it had to past events between them. “I’m sorry, Benjamin. I’m really sorry.”

Another day at work. Ben was off in maybe thirty or so minutes, he wasn’t really keeping track to be honest. The day had been kind of slow and tips weren’t great. He wasn’t currently serving anyone, and he was just rolling silverware in one of the booths with one earbud in listening to whatever his Spotify had recommended him for this week. He heard the bell of the door chime, slightly annoyed he looked up to see who walked in, and if he would have to start serving them before his coverage came in. When he looked up however he saw the familiar frame of the girl he once loved waiting for the host. His heart sunk in his chest, it was like seeing a ghost. Still he moved quickly to the host station to greet the girl. “Heather?” He could barely spit the name out. “What are you doing here?”

@heatherbowcr​

A letter addressed to Ringo had led her there. On the floor beside her was the box she had found inside one of the studio’s cabinets. But she knew upon hearing the familiar voice that it had to be a mistake despite the clear instructions to deliver that to the waiter at his favourite place in the city. Heather stood there, frowning slightly at the man who had moved in her direction almost out of nowhere. She was trying really hard to focus on her task at hand but she couldn’t wrap her head about the fact he was standing right there in front of her after seven years. “Or your personal bearer of bad news...” She mumbled, realising that if she had known he was the one behind that door, she wouldn’t have spent the last hour outside pointlessly holding deep breaths and rehearsing her little speech. The first time she had seen him at that party after their break up she had greeted him with anger and tears of frustration. The second time she saw him was when she went to his aid and drove him to the emergency room sobbing in distress. Now they were there. He wasn’t laying on the floor and she wasn’t drunk. This marked their third encounter since finishing high school and the little sparkle of salty tears threatening to roll down her cheeks came from fear of finding out everything she had been missing out on. Maybe if she had taken her blindfold off earlier, she would’ve fled New York in time to spend more time with that good mentor of hers. Maybe she would’ve said hello to an old lover instead of writing a useless musical hit about none existent voice messages and missed calls. Maybe she would’ve learned the two people she had loved and admired most knew each other to the point where Charles even had a nickname for the drummer that worked there. Heather looked down at the words written on the envelope she held between her hands again. “Hold on, is that...is that you? That’s you, right?” She asked, holding out the letter. Ringo was written in black ink and that was the only restaurant down that block. “I don’t...I don’t get it. I don’t get this. Did you know him?” The redhead moved a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to complete the puzzle of hints. “No, you didn’t...that’s impossible. I know he had turned to alcohol and became delusional this last year. I’m sorry, this is probably a misunderstanding.” She spoke rather quickly, offering an apologetic smile and trying to convince herself of her own reasoning.