Hiii i loved ELYN so much.
I was hoping for any other tidbits/stories/scenes about Simon carrying the frog in the sock. i just wondered if it was like his comfort object or like the orange sweater etc. .That was one of my favorite scenes when Wille finds it
And/or āi wanted to wake up with youā i dont think i will ever forget that line.
š thank youuuu
Okay so I'm sorry this is so very late. Life has been a Lot š
hopefully folks are still interested in my ramblings!
<3 <S <3
"I wanted to wake up with you."
Fun fact: I almost cut this line. It was originally in the first draft where Simon never made the late-night-call that led everyone to Bjarstad and I was worried that after I'd made that change this line would put people off Simon, because at this point (in theory) Simon knows that Wilhelm had to get up because of what Simon did during the night so it's a bit unfair to Wilhelm. But then I figured Simon's in withdrawal, he's going to be resentful and frustrated and just because intellectually he knows it's his fault that doesn't mean he's not still having those feelings.
As far as the wanting goes, Simon is just dragging himself through life at the moment. He had this whole spiral of failing to sleep, eventually managed it by basically promising himself a future where he'd wake up and things would still be like they were when they went to bed, just the two of them avoiding the world. Plus withdrawal emotions, plus Candace showing up, the bubble is fully burst and this line is Simon tired and resentful and having to face it.
In case you're interested in how things change in editing, this is the first draft version of this moment (in this version Candace showed up basically the moment the queen left which would have been one hell of a coincidence).
āPeople always leave before I wake up. Maybe they think Iāll be less fun sober, probably theyāre right.ā
āI wasnāt trying to leave you.ā
āOkay.ā Itās the same tone of voice, accepting but not believing. āAre you going back to Stockholm with her?ā He pushes himself off the wall, crossing into the kitchen and opening cupboards at random.
Itās Friday morning. Wilhelm is due on TV at six PM. Heās supposed to be attending multiple prep meetings, seeing a stylish and a make-up artist before that. Minou is no doubt already at full panic stations. āI can stay if you want me to.ā He stands up as Simon emerges from a cupboard with a half full bottle of vodka. āI can help you look for a lawyer. Or we could go for a walk.ā
Simon unscrews the bottle. āIf you want to go, you can go.ā
The roar of an engine surges outside. Simon is closer to the window, and Wilhelm sees the moment his face shuts down, the inevitability of it, a moment before he sees Candace emerge from a sleek white car.
āI want to be here for you. If youāll let me,ā Wilhelm says, picking at a conversation thatās already died as Simon braces his shoulders like a solider going into battle and tilts the bottle up to take three long swallows.
Candace raps three times on the door. āSimme! Open this door right the fuck now.ā
Simon looks at Wilhelm over the bottle. āI wanted to wake up with you.ā
xšøšøšøx THE FROG xšøšøšøx
After six hours of meetings a car comes to drive him to the hotel. Rachel tells him to order whatever he likes from room service and to be in the lobby for seven thirty the next morning and then heās letting himself into a luxury hotel room. Thereās a lounge, a bedroom, a bathroom with a full size bath and a separate shower with six different heads.
He takes the frog out of his bag and places it on the bedside table overlooking the pillow then pulls out his phone. Heād messaged Wilhelm when he arrived (Landed! Hopefully someone comes to pick me up!) and now he sees Wilhelm has texted three times since.
Good luck! La doesnt know whats hit it!
Everything okay?
Iām awake, no plans today whenever you want to call
Simon texts back: Sorry! Dumped straight into meetings all day. Iām kind of exhausted, can we do tomorrow?
Wilhelm: Of course! Jet lags a bitch. Sleep well, I love you xxx
Simon picks up the menu off the side but his stomach is still protesting the bagel it thinks it had in the middle of the night and he kicks off his trainers and his jeans and crawls into the mega bed.
After a moment, he reaches over and picks up the frog again, runs his thumb across the nose, and settles back down with itās weight firm in his palm as he types: Love you toox
xšøx
Candace tells him theyāre going to Sweden in the same matter-of-fact voice she uses to tell him anything. The label wonāt approve a third single. We have to crowdfund plane tickets. We canāt afford to keep the whole band, who can you live without? Iāve booked us a week in Stockholm and put word out to local news sites and venues, weāll be taking the buses up there after Paris.
Simon reaches for his backpack on instinct, touches the front pocket where Wilhelmās frog has been nestled since they left L.A. āShould Iā¦ I should call Wilhelm, right? Let him know?ā
Candace glances at him over her iPad. āSure,ā she says. āLet me know if you need me to put him on the List.ā
Simon leaves the meeting, twisting his phone over and over between his hands. Theyāre going to Sweden. For the first time since he flew out and itās - he glances at his phone again - itās September.
Fuck, itās September. Itās September 2024, somehow. Itās been over a year since he left Sweden, since he last saw Wilhelm. He scrolls through the contacts on his phone but Wilhelm isnāt in there, of course Wilhelm isnāt in there, Simon got this phone back in L.A. and he hadnāt had time to transfer anything across. That had been last Christmas. Ten months ago and god, where had that time gone?
He could ask Candace to get Wilhelmās number. Thatās what she does, she sorts things. Wilhelm doesnāt answer the phone to unknown numbers. Obviously. But Simon could write a text or something. Hi, this is Simon. I know you said there was no way we could make it work because I was so busy all the time but Iām going to be in Sweden and Iāll still be busy all the time and youāre probably off in the army somewhere but -
It sounds stupid. It is stupid. There is no ābutā, they donāt work and that has always been abundantly clear.
He unzips his backpack and the frog is there in itās tiny golden crown, glitter still clinging to the paint because glitter is a bitch that can never be removed.
Thereās a scratch across itās nose, deep enough that Simonās nail can catch against it. Hi Wilhelm, this is Simon, I know we havenāt talked for a while but I need to give you your frog back because you trusted me to keep one thing safe and I couldnāt even -
He scrolls back up his contacts to Guitar, Kevan and types: drinks?
His suitcase is at the edge of the room, surrounded by a scattering of costume pieces and toiletries. He digs through chains and glitter to find a pair of probably-clean socks and tucks the frog inside, where itāll be safe.
His phone buzzes: party in 267
He just needs something to calm his nerves, to settle his stomach.
Heāll ask Candace to get the number tomorrow. Or, thereās a show tomorrow, next time he has a free minute.
He tucks the bundle down into the case and heads out of the room.
xšøx
His case is still on the floor of his bedroom half full from tour. Technically heās been back in L.A. for two months but unpacking was one of those āIāll do it laterā things that has now somehow come full circle. He tugs out clothes, nudging them into the ever growing laundry for the cleaners to pick up once heās gone.
His hand finds something solid and he pulls it out. Socks, with something inside, and his throat catches as he remembers September, Sweden. Everyone talking to him in Swedish, fans screaming 'jag Ƥlskar dig!' like it wasnātā¦ likeā¦
Candace promised the next tour could skip it. And if heās not going to Sweden, he canāt give the frog back, so thereās no point having it. He doesnāt need it.
He folds the socks around it a little tighter, stands up to push it into the back of his sock drawer, underneath everything else. Itāll be safer there.
Two days later the taxi is honking itās horn outside as he runs back into the room, upends the whole drawer on the floor and grabs the wrapped bundle, shoving it into his pocket on his way out the door.
xšøx
Thereās a fresh bruise forming on his collarbone, a faded one on the side of his neck, a man whose name he doesnāt know snoring face down on the cheap polyester pillows.
He runs his thumb back and forth across the nose of the tiny frog statue, lets his head thump back against the wall to stare up at the ceiling and count down the hours until dawn.
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