Chapter Forty-Nine: Goodbye, Amy:

Days later, Amy passed away. The news of her day came quite as a shock to me. I almost choked on my beer when I heard it on the news. Her manager came by her apartment to go fetch her when she didn’t come in to finish the recording. He found her dead and cold the couch with the TV on. Apparently, she had been drinking and watching old videos of herself. It felt rather strange. I had talked to her days before when she came around at three in the morning.

I couldn’t believe that Venus was gone. I had a hard time convincing myself. It finally sank on when her manager called me.

“Hello?” I asked once I pulled the phone to my ear under my sheets.

“Is this Michael?” he asked.

“Speaking,” I mumbled.

“Oh good, I’m glad I could reach you,” the man said. I narrowed my eyes at those words.

“Why?” I asked.

“I am inviting you to the funeral,” he said. I sat up at those words.

“What?” I asked.

“Her family is holding a private funeral for her,” he explained, “Only friends and family members are invited. But you say you were her boyfriend…”

“Wait,” I said, “So you want me to crash a funeral?”

“That’s too strong to say it like that,” the manager said, “I’m just saying tag-along. It would’ve made Amy very happy.” I frowned at his words. No wonder she didn’t like him so much.

“Fine,” I said begrudgingly, “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, man,” he said, “Amy would’ve wanted this.”

“Right,” I mumbled before I hung up. Why do people do that? How they even know what the dead want? Did Venus manage to pop from the funeral home and tell that slime ball to invite me to the funeral? I shook my head as I tried to get that image out of my head.

The funeral took place that Friday. Her parents held it at Blessed Trinity Parish. I couldn’t help but notice only twenty-five people were present. I expected paparazzi and news crews here. Well done to the parents for keeping this funeral a secret. I took my seat in the very back next to the manager. He shook his head as the minister opened the service.

“It’s such a shame to lose such amazing talent like her,” he muttered. I tried to stay civil and keep my mouth shut for the time being. You’re just sad to lose one of your biggest cash cows to booze and depression, I thought. Suddenly, I remembered a burning question that had haunted me for days now.

“What caused her to be like that?” I whispered, “Fall depressed, I mean.” That slime ball manager turned his head with a curious look on his face.

“Didn’t you hear?” he whispered.

“Hear what?” I asked.

“Her first love died in a car accident on New Year’s Day and Amy hadn’t recovered from it since,” the manager whispered. I gave him a puzzled look.

“Her first love?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he went on, “She wouldn’t even get out of bed. This guy was practically legend to her. He was the one who inspired her to become a singer in the first place. In fact on her first album, Amy dedicated three songs to him. Even though they broke up and he married someone else, she still carried a torch for him.” I sat back in amazed thought.

“Wow,” I mumbled to myself. Venus kept her heart open for some man that she knew that she would never have after all of this time even with me? That’s just…

I didn’t stand up to say anything when it was time for friends and family to talk. What could I say about her? I only knew her as the wild party girl that entertainment media made her out to be. Still, it interested me about how Amy was when she was a little girl. She sounded rather spunky and ambitious back then. Each as a child, she had a rebellious streak going on for her. I sat back and took in all of the stories about her with new revelation. When it came time to drop a flower in the open casket, I made sure to be dead last. I only took a peek inside. Even then, she looked rather peaceful and much prettier than when she was alive. It amazed me how family can clean up a dead body before they are cremated or buried underground. I wondered who would clean me up before I died.

I didn’t stick around for the burial part of the funeral. What would be the point? Amy’s only going to be alive in my memories from now on. Her death pushed me to make up my mind that evening. I sat at my computer and reached for the phone.

Hello?” I asked, “You still want to go to France? Be ready at six in the morning, okay? Good deal. Bye.” I flipped my phone closed. That’s done; now just wait for tomorrow to come.

Goodbye Amy, see you on the other side someday.