by Daisy Allen
“So where do you want to be, what do you want to be doing?”
There’s a barely susceptible shrug of her shoulders, but I feel it.
“I don’t know. I think I’m doing it, but I just don’t know. Some days it just feels like it’s too hard.”
“Well, I can tell you this—it’s never going to feel easy. It might feel good, it might feel right. But achieving your dream is never going to feel like it just falls into your lap.”
Butter nods, and for the first time since we reunited, I think she really hears me. So, I take advantage of it.
“And another thing. Don’t envy me when you’re seeing me up there on stage. Sometimes there is somewhere else I want to be, something else I want to be doing.”
Her eyebrows lift from their heavy thinking. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“I’m doing it right now.” I reach over and run my finger down the soft curve of her cheek.
“Brad.” The one word carries a world of meaning. Some of it I don’t like. Some of it is telling me to stop.
“Butter. You say the word and I’m there. Or here…and wherever you want me to be. You coming back has shown me that.”
I know I shouldn’t be doing this. That going after someone in a relationship is lower than even what I will stoop to, but I want her to know. I want her to get used to the idea that maybe we came back into each other’s lives for a reason.
“It’s too late, Brad.” There’s a waver in her voice, and it gives me hope.
“It’s never too late, Butter.”
She goes quiet and I wonder if there’s anything I can say that would ever change her mind about dumping whoever the loser is she’s with and giving us another chance. On my own, I can’t think of it. So, I change the subject.
“Hey, why didn’t you continue with your piano and flute? I mean, I know why you stopped singing, but...”
“Ha-ha, excuse me, you should wonder why I’m not a professional vocalist!”
“No, really...you were so talented.”
“No, Brad. I wasn’t. I didn’t suck, but I wasn’t ‘so talented.’”
“Butter...”
“No, it’s okay. I mean, I enjoyed it.” She smiles and her fingers do some little movements, as if she’s remembering her years of music practice. “I’m glad I went to a specialized music school, but the whole time, I pretty much felt like an imposter. I mean, who goes to music school and dreads music class and looks forward to history and English Lit?”
“Ugh,” I involuntarily grunt. Now the memories come back to me. Bad ones.
“Ha!” She lets out a guffaw. “Exactly. That’s how I felt about music classes by our senior year. No one wants to be the worst in their class.”
“You weren’t,” I insist. She may not have been the best, but she had her own unique style, something I think is more important than being like the other one hundred virtuosos in your class.
“I’d give anything to play like Cadence,” she sighs.
“She does play beautifully,” I agree.
“Anyway, I just got sick of being in the shadow of real musicians. I want to shine, too, Brad. Is that so wrong?”
Those crystal-blue orbs she has as eyes grow large and she locks them on me. I swallow as I feel something crawl up my throat in response. I can’t escape the desire in her eyes to be special. I just wish she knew just how special she is.
“Um, we wear shirts with our names in glitter on them. I don’t think you need to be embarrassed about wanting to shine around me.” I flutter my eyelashes at her and wave a hand in front of my face.
“DIVA!” she yells and crumbles into a fit of giggles.
My heart leaps at the sound of her happiness. “You know it!”
She shoves me in the shoulder as she rolls her eyes, and not for the first time I forget that we’re not just lying side by side in my bed after school, making joke after joke.
I wait for the laughter to die down before I nudge her back. “You know what though?”
She raises a nervous eyebrow in response.
“You write as beautifully as Cadence plays,” I tell her, the most honest thing I’ve said in a long time.
“Brad…”
“It’s true. Since we found out you were going to be reporting on us, I’ve been reading some of your editorials and blogs and articles. I mean I’m glad you went to music school, because it obviously gives you an insight into musicians, but you’re right, words are where your talent is. It’s where you shine.”
Her whole chest lifts in a deep, deep breath.
“Thank you, Brad.”
“No problem. Now use those words to make me look like a rock God with an eight-pack and fingers that create aural orgasms, please.”
“Brad can’t even create sex orgasms with those stumpy things!” a loud voice interrupts our intimate talk and we swivel around on the chair to see Marius and the rest pile onto the bus.
We hadn’t even noticed that the buses had stopped and parked. Butter jumps up from the recliner, straightening her clothes.
“Excuse me, my fingers are nimble sex organs,” I say, wiggling my fingers at the intruders.
“They’re about the length of your actual sex organ maybe,” Marius counters, doing a wiggle of his hips.
“Hey! I’ve had no complaints!”
“What about pointing and laughing?” Jez asks to the amusement of the others.
“Leave the guy alone.” Butter comes to my defense.
“Thank you, Butter!” I point to her, as if to implore the others to listen to her.
But she wasn’t finished. “He hasn’t been the same since his penile-widening operation,” she adds, her eyes darting to me, without an ounce of guilt.
“TRAITOR! Off the bus with you…you…betrayer!” I yell, jumping to my feet.
Jez comes, his hand holding his splitting side, struggling for breath. Handing her the bottle of tequila, he pats Emily on the back.
“You’re all right. You might just be a bit all right after all.”
I see Cadence hug her fiancé’s arm and he leans over and kisses the top of her head.
“Now. There’s just one last test,” Jez continues.
He looks around the bus and we all start chanting at once.
“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!”
The last thing I remember is Butter’s smile as she tips the bottle into her mouth.
Chapter Fifteen
Emily
There seems to be some sort of major construction going on. And it seems to be going on inside my head.
I try to open one eye, but the construction team seems to have done some work overnight as well, and welded it shut. I try the other one, and I can barely pry it open. It’s enough to let a stream of light in to burn my retina however, and I slam it shut again.
Fine, I’ll just get through the day with my eyes closed then, I think to myself. And even that seems excessively loud.
I grab the edge of the bed to pull myself onto my side.
“Aarrghhhhh,” I groan.
Okay.
That was apparently overly ambitious as well.
There’s a soft sound of movement in the next room, and then a moan that mirrors mine.
Good.
I’m going to need empathy to get through this day.
First things first.
I need to write myself a note.
Tequila. Bad.
Okay, one thing accomplished for the day.
I drag myself into the small shower to try to drown out some of the banging in my head. I feel only marginally better when I get out, but that’s enough to start my search for coffee.
“Ohhhhwhatkillmenowwhoisit?” The response from Hailey’s bedroom is barely above a whisper when I knock on her door.
“Hails, where’s the nearest coffee shop?” I whisper back.
“Why are you yelling at me?” The whisper is still a whisper, but lined with a distinct tone of grump.
>
“It’s so you can hear me over the jackhammer in your head, Hails,” I explain.
“Ugh, how’d you know about that? And why can’t I turn it off? Anyway, I think there’s one about two blocks to the right. Black, two sugars.”
“Got it.”
I go back down the hallway and am surprised to see Cadence’s door open and her bed made. How can that be? I still have a vague memory of her still up as Brad dragged me to my bedroom and dropped me onto my bed before he must’ve crawled back to his own bus.
I crack open the bus door and the cold air whooshes inside. The chilly wind is actually refreshing on my aching head and I step out into the frosty morning.
Despite my pounding head and the feeling like my eyes are the size of baseballs and covered in sawdust, I feel good. Last night had quickly descended into a night of drunken ridiculousness, but it had broken the ice. Maybe it had been the karaoke, maybe it had been the mini mob chasing us, maybe it was the tequila. Whatever it was, I feel like the guys trust me now, and will stop treating me like an outsider. Anyway, it feels good.
Hailey was right. The coffee shop is about three hundred feet from the bus, which is good because I’m not sure how far I could’ve walked without sustenance.
I scan the menu and it gives me a thought. I order a few coffees for everyone, and offer to pay a bit extra if they can help me bring them back for to the bus. In a special bag, I get them to pack two croissants and a tub of Greek yogurt to share. I wonder if he remembers that this was always our hangover routine. Of course, back then, we were young and hangovers was just a word for “had a big night last night.”
I wander back to the buses with two caramel lattes and the breakfast in hand. I can’t help but feel a little excited to be seeing him, seeing if he remembers. Just as I reach out for the guys’ bus door, it swings open.
“Oh!” I duck out of the way to avoid it hitting me in the face.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!” a female voice says. Felicia, the radio host from yesterday steps off the bus, her face lit up by the early-morning sun. “Did I get you?”
“Er, no, I’m fine. What… um, what are you doing here?” I ask her, coughing trying to control my voice.
“Oh, um, you know,” she gives me a wink and gestures with her head toward the bus.
“No. I don’t know,” I say, a little surprised at my own harshness. “Or I hope I don’t,” I mumble under my breath.
She checks her phone and then gives me a little wave. “Anyway, gotta run, late for work. See you at the CD signing later today.”
“Oh, you’re going to be there?”
“Yeah, Brad asked me if I wanted to come along since the station is covering it anyway.”
And it’s like someone has stabbed me in the heart.
“Oh, okay.” I cover my eyes, as if to shield them from the sun, but it’s not.
I watch her get in her car and drive off. The sharp pain has spread a little further down my body now. Grabbing hard onto the rail, I drag my body into the bus. Cadence and Sebastian are awake and giggling on the couch together.
I sink into a recliner with an “Oooof.”
“Aw, what’s up, Journalist? Rough night?”
“Night was fine, morning’s been a bit of a bitch,” I tell them, spinning my chair away from them, not wanting to see their loved-up scene.
“Now, now, tell Cadence what’s going on,” Cadence says, her voice soft and friendly.
“You guys trying to alcohol-poison me for one,” I grumble, staring out the window.
They laugh and the sound makes me envy them so much, I want to scream.
“Where’s, uh…Where’s everyone else?”
“The other guys are still sleeping so we just thought we’d have some quiet time together,” Sebastian answers, reaching over to the neighboring chair for a cushion.
“I’ll take the hint…” I get up and make for the door.
“No, no, we’re good...now. We got our ‘quiet time’ together already,” Cadence says, giving me a show of her dirty air quotes.
“Ew.” I cover my ears with my hands and screw up my face.
“No, it was quite good actually,” Sebastian preens. “But not as good as what happened in the room next door.”
The flash of white pain returns and I swallow, trying to drown it.
The knock on the bus door is a welcome distraction and I open it to let in the two guys carrying trays of coffees.
“Just thought we could all use a pick-me-up,” I say to the loved-up couple, gesturing to the side tables now filled with coffee cups.
Cadence leaps to her feet and wraps her arms around me in a big hug. “Oh, that’s so nice, thank you!” I hug her back, enjoying the friendly gesture.
“And er, here are some croissants, just for the love birds,” I white lie, handing them the pastries. I don’t have any use for them now anyway.
Leaving the two of them to their breakfast, I carry Hailey’s coffee over to the other bus for her. She’s in the shower when I get there and I put her coffee on her nightstand.
I close the door to my room and sit on my bed, glad for the quiet and solitude. The pain in my chest throbs and I can still hear the blood rushing in the veins in my head. My hand comes up and I thump it against my ribcage, making my lungs drag in air. I spread my knees apart and let my head fall between them, willing the dizziness away.
I shouldn’t be feeling like this. I can’t afford to. The sight of him with other women, the thought of it…the knowledge of it can’t knock me to my knees every time. It’s unbearable.
I don’t even know why I’m reacting as if this was any surprise. This is how it was always going to be with him, with any of the bandmembers. Woman after woman after woman. The life of a playboy on tour. It’s why it didn’t work before, and it’s why it wouldn’t work now.
In any capacity.
And as much as I want this job, I want my sanity more. There are other people in my life who require me to be stable, and the way I’ve seesawed from happy to psycho in the last few days since Brad’s come back into my life is not good for anyone.
I throw my head back, sitting upright. The dizziness is only worse. And it helps me make my decision.
Digging through my purse for my phone, I squeeze it in my hand when I find it.
“Do it. Just do it,” I tell myself. “It’s for the best.”
There will be other chances, the voice inside encourages me. And pretend I can’t hear the doubt.
Someone picks up on the other end.
“Hey, boss? We need to talk. I just can’t do this.”
Chapter Sixteen
Emily
There are women everywhere. Just everywhere.
Crowding around the signing table, filling the aisles, jammed into the entrance, and spilling out into the mall.
“Fucking hell,” I mumble under my breath, as I watch the band charm their fans from our spot behind the counter.
Dennis had set up a meet and greet for fans at the local music store owned by an old friend of his. I’m not really sure who was doing whom the favor. The store was definitely getting their fair share of sales of the band’s albums.
“Oh, Jez! You’re so bad!” We hear a high-pitched voice dipped in syrup float toward us and I see Hailey grit her teeth. I turn and see the voice’s owner move down the line and reach over and pat Sebastian on the arm. He just grins at her and hands her the autographed CD liner notes.
“Ugh, how do you stand it?” I ask Cadence.
“Stand what?” she replies, eyes still fixed on her fiancé.
Hailey stares straight ahead but squeals, mimicking the fans, “Oh! Sebbywebbypebbyboo! You are like soooo my soulmate!”
I have to laugh at the spot-on impression. I guess she’s been around it enough to have it down pat.
Cadence just grins and says, “Hailey, stop hitting on my fiancé, you know we’ve talked about that!”
“Bitch!” Hailey splutters and reaches over
and pinches Cadence on the arm.
“Wha?” I ask, sure there’s a story in there somewhere.
“Long story—I used to think Hailey was after my man, but I chased her off,” Cadence explains.
“Not to mention he doesn’t have what I like!” Hailey cryptically adds.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“A pussy,” Hailey answers.
I choke on my breath. “Wha?”
“Never mind that. Back to me being the best girlfriend ever,” Cadence cuts in.
I try to swallow my surprise at Hailey’s revelation and return to questioning Cadence. “Yeah, how are you not over there just glaring at every woman flirting with him right now?”
The three of us focus our attention on the guys again. Just at that moment Sebastian winks at Cadence and wiggles four fingers at her.
She giggles and wiggles four fingers back at him before he grins and then goes back to signing his autograph.
“I dunno, because of stuff like that, I guess,” she says, her cheeks a soft pink glow from the attention from Sebastian.
“What was that?” I ask, not sure if I want to know the answer.
“That was a reminder of last night and what’s coming tonight,” Cadence says, wiggling the four fingers at the two of us.
Hailey looks at me and shrugs, before her face makes it clear it’s dawned on her.
“Four..? Oh. Ew! You guys are sex addicts,” Hailey exclaims, but her eyes widen almost in admiration.
“Yes,” Cadence sighs, “that helps, too. But seriously, the flirting, it’s just a part of his job. I thought it was going to be hard, but since we’ve gotten together, I’ve never felt I needed to question the trust I have in him staying monogamous at all.”
“Even after everything they’ve done?” I say, referencing the very well-documented lifestyles of the guys in the band.
“You mean be young and famous and gorgeous and enjoy it? If they’re single, who cares? I just know that Sebastian can’t wait but come home to me at night. And he makes sure I know it.”
I envy her. I envy her confidence, I envy her utter trust. I would envy her happiness but I like her and think she deserves it. I’m going to miss her. I wish we’d had more time to get to know one another.
