London Calling Lyrics Novels & Stories

Ryder. “Come back,” he said. “We’ll fix this together.” “I need time.” “You have thirty minutes. Then I come find you.” The call ended. I walked faster, tears blurring the sidewalk. The city noise pressed in — honking taxis, rushing people, normal lives I no longer had. I ducked into a small café and ordered coffee I didn’t want, sitting in the back corner. My mind replayed everything. The arena. The hallway. The desk. The bed. The way he made me count. The way he made me come. The way he made me love him despite everything.

All the sounds inside the building seem to be quiet to him as there was no one with whom he could talk now. Just when the loneliness was about to engulf him receive the call. The number on the screen was quite familiar to him. " Hello dad, I have arrived in London what do you want to say?" " Seems you are doing great there. Do you happen to have any free time on your hands right now?". "Why? I don't want to follow your orders. I am here just so I could watch over Lucy that's all," he grunted. "Now now why are you getting angry? Just have to meet someone that's all. I bet you will find it great to meet someone."

Every thought hit a dead end before it could become real. I pressed my back harder against the cold wall, forcing myself to breathe slowly. The air smelled stale, heavy with fear and sweat. Time passed slowly, dragging itself forward. Then the door slammed open. “Wakey, wakey, my lovelies!” a man’s voice rang out, loud and mocking. “Big day today.” The girls jerked awake instantly, panic flashing across their faces. “It’s time to show off those pretty faces,” he continued, grinning cruelly. “You’re going to make us a lot of money tonight.”

It was a single sheet of paper, written in her neat, precise law-student script. I went to the airport, Davis. I’m going to London. My aunt has a flat in Kensington. Don’t look for me. You can’t secure what you’ve already destroyed. I read the words over and over, the ink blurring in the dim light. Don’t look for me. I walked to the window and looked out at the street. The city was moving, the cars flowing like liquid gold in the night, the people living their lives without fear, without walls, without a guard at the door.

London is indeed a beautiful country, I picked up my phone and dialed the only number that existed on my phone, it was Richard. “ Finally! She calls … How are you ?” Richard asked immediately the call connected. “ I’m sorry, I just landed and so I wanted to give you guys an update on my whereabouts “ “ It’s nice to hear that your flight was successful, I will let my mom know that you called … She stepped outside for her walk, “ Richard said. “ Ohhh … I’m going to call her too, I’m waiting for my taxi right now” Just immediately after I said that I saw a taxi coming closer to me.

I fished the contact card out of my pocket, took a deep breath, and dialed the number. My heart slammed against my chest at every ring, and my throat tightened as my anxiety increased. 'What the hell am I doing?' 'What am I even thinking?' But then, he answered. His voice was deep and slow like he already knew who was calling. "Hello, Little Lamb." My breath caught. And just like that, my whole world shifted.

I called him and told him I was headed back home. The loud noise from the bar burst through the phone. I pulled the phone from my ear and began to press random button to reduce the volume of the phone. I began to panic from the fear of being perceived but this is London, people minded their business here. I rose my head up to look around the bus and it was like nothing embarrassing just happened. "Okay I'd see you at home..woahhh." I manage to hear him say as noise screeched through the phone.

Kendrick and Noelle were probably mid-transit or just touching down. I found Kendrick Beckham’s name in my contacts. My thumb hovered over the call button for a heartbeat. Don’t be too late. Please, don't tell me they gave that London desk to some Ivy League shark already. I pressed dial. Ring... Ring... I paced the length of my living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting a man who looked half-crazed and entirely determined. My palms were damp. My chest felt tight, like a spring wound too far. Click.

CHAPTER NINE POV: Damian Cross It’s strange how silence can feel heavier than noise. The house is still, except for the faint hum of the city beyond the glass walls. London is alive out there: restless, pulsing, untamed, but in here, the air feels stagnant, like it’s holding its breath with me. Lydia’s laughter used to fill this space; tonight, it’s gone.

She deleted what she had written and tried again. Joe, I’m not sure what’s going on. I tried to call you. You didn’t pick up. Your stupid voice mail message says that you’d call me back. Hahaha! You haven’t. But then again, I didn’t leave a message. Maybe you only call people back who leave messages? Not sure what I was supposed to say, however. I’m here in London, I’d really like to talk to you, but Grrr….