by Haley Travis
Corina: I won’t. I have the power of great tea.
Me: xox
Corina: You always make me smile.
I could’ve kept chatting forever, but let her get back to work.
After a quick hour of vocal training, I dashed downtown.
Meeting up with a stylist felt like the antithesis of independent music, somehow, but if Corina thought it was important, I would give anything a shot.
Walking into a blinding white clothing store that looked more like a modern museum, a perky girl with pink streaks in her blonde hair bounced over to me.
“Ethan!” She practically squealed, giving me a giant hug. “I’m Karli.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, looking around suspiciously.
She held up her hands. “I know what you’re thinking, but I swear there are some great base pieces here. We’ll find you a few glamorous things, then go down the street to a basement secondhand store I love.”
I blinked, surprised. “The sketchy one with the big black and white spiral at the bottom of the stairs?”
“That’s it,” she nodded. “We need to mix high-end pieces with a bit of grunge and rock. Don’t worry – I’ve listened to your album and studied what few photos there were of you online. You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to.”
I honestly just wanted to wear my usual stage outfit of my better jeans, a decent t-shirt, and maybe a leather wrist cuff, but I would take her word for it.
Karli looked at me carefully. “I see you’re worried,” she said, stepping closer. “But listen to what song just came on. That’s gotta be a sign.”
Although it was an odd jazz version, I could still make out the eighties blues rock tune about every woman loving a sharp dressed man.
Three hours later marked the end of my longest shopping excursion ever. By the time I made it back to my loft with five shopping bags, I had five outfits that I actually really loved, and felt like myself in.
Well, the more stylish, slightly flashier, ready-for-a-photoshoot-at-any-second version of myself.
***
I hadn’t even gone through the shopping bags Saturday evening when Corina came over.
After an incredible dinner, and a giant makeout session on my couch, she began to laugh.
“You dropped your fancy new clothes on the floor and just left them there without hanging anything up?” she exclaimed.
I stared blankly at the bags in the corner. “I didn’t think about it.”
She shook her head, then squirmed out of my grasp. “Wrinkles can set in if things are folded for too long,” she said. Before I could stop her, she had set the bags across my kitchen table and began going through everything.
“Tell me if there’s anything you don’t like,” I said, but before I could continue, my phone rang. I grabbed it and went out to the hallway.
“Ethan,” an excited voice blurred in my ear, “The tour is on.”
“Seriously? That’s awesome.”
My friend Bruce was a tour manager for several traveling bands, and had been in the process of setting me up with a string of shows.
“I managed to tack you onto the Mod Palace tour,” he continued.
“Is that the one that starts in six weeks?” I asked. “Where we’ll be gone for a month?”
“That’s it,” his deep voice chuckled. “So prepare your boys, and get ready to live in my stinky old van.”
“Can’t wait,” I laughed. “It’s been a while since we’ve played a string of out-of-town shows. We’re all really looking forward to it. Thanks, man.”
“No problem. I know that you guys are going to be the perfect addition.”
As I hung up, I saw that Corina had already arranged all of the clothing in my closet, with the shoes neatly on the floor, and the accessories arranged in a box.
“You’re going on tour?” she asked in a tiny voice that instantly broke my heart.
Taking her hand, I led her back to the couch. “First off, thank you so much for arranging the stylist, and getting those clothes. And thanks for putting everything away so nicely.”
She smiled, but it didn’t quite touch her eyes.
“About the little tour,” I said gently. “We don’t do big stadium tours that are on the road for years. That doesn’t work for our style of music, and it’s really not my thing. We go on small tours that circle out from our home base. A month is going to be our longest tour yet.”
She nodded, and I reached up to run my thumb along her bottom lip so that she’d have to stop biting it.
“Talk to me, angel. Please – tell me what you’re scared of.”
Corina shook her head, so I gripped the back of her hair to hold her still. Bringing my lips an inch from hers, I murmured, “No more kisses until you tell me everything. I want to be the best man possible for you. But I can’t do that unless you tell me what’s wrong.”
She took a deep breath, then whispered, “If all of those women are so aggressive online, knowing that they might never see you in person, how aggressive are they going to be when you come to their city?”
“Oh, God, baby,” I gasped, pulling her into my arms. Lifting her hips, I sat her in my lap so that I could hold her against my chest.
“I’m not into that kind of thing. Neither are the other guys. It’s not the party music scene where everyone gets trashed and wakes up with strangers. It’s not who we are, at all.”
She sighed. “But if you’ve been alone a while, and some sexy woman throws herself at you–”
“I will be polite and take a photo with her, then suggest she leave. If she doesn’t, I give Bruce the signal, and he escorts her out.”
“Are you serious?” she asked, turning to look at me wide-eyed.
“Absolutely. Sexual harassment works both ways. We don’t want to be groped by strangers. It’s creepy.” Her long, low exhale made me smile.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just…I’m new to all of this, and I don’t know how everything works yet.”
“We work together, angel,” I said, nuzzling her ear. “You tell me whenever you’re scared, and I’ll do absolutely everything I can to make things right.”
She nodded, her hands shifting as she began rubbing the back of my neck with her fingertips.
“You can text me anytime,” I said. “I’ll send you photos of wherever we are. We can do a quick video chat every couple of days if I end up somewhere quiet for ten straight minutes.”
“I’m not going to be high maintenance, I swear,” she said quickly. “I’m not going to be one of those girls who gets clingy.”
I absolutely loved that she said that while clinging to my shoulders.
“I know. I’m not worried in the slightest. We only do a couple of these tours a year. Trust me, it will be more obnoxious when we are locked in the studio recording, and my schedule is at the mercy of the sound techs and other band members.”
Finally Corina laughed, her head falling back so that I could kiss up her throat.
“I can’t believe how good you make me feel,” she said softly.
“Good. Because I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing everything in my power to make you laugh and smile like this.”
“It’s a bit early to be thinking in lifetimes,” she grinned. Then she became serious as she looked into my eyes. “Isn’t it?”
“You can think things through as long as you need,” I said, slipping my hands into her shirt to caress her back. “My mind is already made up. You’re the one.”
Her mouth fell open, then snapped shut as she shook her head.
“Don’t be scared,” I murmured, rubbing my nose against hers until she giggled. “I love you. That’s not supposed to be scary, right?”
The words had fallen out so easily that for a second I wasn’t quite sure she’d heard them.
Then she pushed me back an inch, looking slightly dazed. “I love you too,” she breathed. “It’s just…so fast.”
Kissing her ge
ntly, I am murmured against her lips, “It doesn’t matter. We met years ago, when we were both a bit different. We were into each other then. Now that the timing is much better, why not just let things happen?”
“I like your changes,” she said, running her fingers through my hair.
“I like your changes too.” I slipped my hand down to cup her breast, squeezing gently until she made a breathy noise. “Did I get an A+ on my makeover project?” I chuckled.
Corina looked me up and down, then raised an eyebrow. “At least a B,” she joked saucily.
“As long as it’s not a C-flat,” I laughed.
Scooping her up, I carried my gorgeous girlfriend to the bedroom to increase my grade from a B to an A+, no matter what it took.
11
_____
Corina
The past week had been an absolute blur. It was hard to believe that Ethan’s big concert was tomorrow, and that we’d only been together for twelve days.
With the insane amount of work I’d been doing, it felt like a month had passed. But our relationship had also fast forwarded at a breakneck pace.
Ethan was incredibly good natured about everything I had to throw his way. He was polished and prepared for every interview, podcast, and photoshoot that I booked for him. Every bit of feedback was positive, and they were definitely receiving sufficient media coverage for the show.
It was a strange thrill to have been in the room when the band name had been finalized. They had decided that they wanted to reflect something that applied to all four of them. It turned out that they each wanted to get a cat, but due to living situations, and in one case, his Mom’s allergies, they couldn’t have pets right now.
‘Cat Badness’ was born out of wanting something they couldn’t have yet, but might someday. It was the perfect tone – light and fun, but hopefully with a pinch of a bad boy twist.
Ethan was a very good boy who did all of the homework I assigned him, but things quickly turned whenever we were alone. I loved that he was so naughty. So playful. And apparently, incredibly hungry for me at all times.
We were staying over at each other’s apartments about every other night. We were constantly in touch through texts and quick phone calls. We knew where the other one was and what they were doing at all times.
I would never have guessed that this level of connectedness would be so comfortable. Neither one of us expected anything from the other, we just shared everything naturally.
Yet I still had to separate the girlfriend from the PR person sometimes.
Sipping my morning tea at my desk while coworkers breezed by, it was incredibly odd to be going through personal messages on Ethan’s social media pages.
Sure, it was my job. But it made me feel like some kind of stalker or spy.
I had a huge selection of pre-written responses to copy and paste to most of the messages, with information on the upcoming concert, his upcoming tour, and where to purchase his album and merchandise.
Anything personal was ignored. As per Ethan’s wishes, anyone who sent a suggestive photo was instantly blocked.
Part of me felt a bit guilty for being so harsh, but on the other hand, if things were reversed and it was a man who had sent a dirty photo, people would be up in arms.
Coworkers in the coffee room just down the hall from my cubicle were chatting about the giant promotion event they were putting on this weekend. The contrast of me dealing with my new boyfriend’s would-be groupies was absolutely comical.
Taking a break from the messages, I flipped through some emails, immediately grinning to myself. All of the record company representatives were confirmed for tomorrow night.
I hadn’t gone into detail for fear of making Ethan nervous, but the last of the tickets had either been sold, or had gone to media covering the show, and local bloggers and podcasters as prizes for their audiences. The concert was officially sold out.
The free albums, buttons and stickers I had shipped the media in advance likely didn’t hurt. Buttering people up was something we had all learned on day one.
Plus, I had sent each creator a personal message talking about their show or website, and why I thought they would enjoy the concert. Of course I wanted them to cover it, but I left that as an implication, not a direct suggestion.
Returning to Ethan’s personal messages, I answered questions with the pre-written answers, until I came to a user named LeaT01.
“This is a really cute photo of us – feel free to repost it if you like!”
I almost didn’t look at the photo, assuming it would be more bare breasts, or a longing glance with her finger pulling out her bottom lip. I’d already gone through dozens of those this morning, and didn’t know how many more I could stomach.
A lurching feeling clenched my guts as I stared at the screen.
The photo clearly showed Ethan laughing with a willowy blonde knockout, as he playfully tugged on her earring, leaning in close.
Shutting the browser, I pushed myself away from the desk to take a few deep breaths.
I wanted to trust Ethan. I really did. But he seemed so infatuated with me that I couldn’t quite trust that. It was too much, too soon.
Was there any chance that he was like this with all women? It could make sense that a man who was a geek in high school would take every advantage of his new persona.
I didn’t think that was Ethan’s style, but anything was possible. When I really thought about it, I still didn’t know him that well yet.
***
By the time I got to his apartment at eight o’clock, my stomach was roiling.
I didn’t want to confront him about something that might have been innocent. As I knocked on his door, then smoothed down my skirt, I resolved to stay perfectly calm, and simply ask him about it. A mature woman should be direct. It was expected that people would ask questions of each other.
Ethan opened the door, with his dark eyes flashing, and his stunningly handsome smile directed straight at me.
To my absolute horror and embarrassment, I burst into tears.
12
_____
Ethan
I had been so excited to see Corina all day. After rehearsal, and going over a few technical details with the venue, I felt absolutely confident that tomorrow night’s show was going to be amazing.
Hearing her timid knock at the door made my heart jump and I rushed to open it, excited to tell her how perfect everything was. Watching her collapse into a puddle of tears was like a punch to the throat.
Pulling her inside, I kept the door shut and guided her to the couch. “Breathe, baby,” I murmured, handing her a tissue as I sat close beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she sputtered.
“It’s all right. Just get it out, and tell me what’s wrong when you’re ready.”
Her sobbing became even worse.
Holding her against my shoulder, I stroked her back softly, murmuring, “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it. Just take a slow breath.”
After a few minutes, she seemed to get herself under control, and looked up at me in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“Angel,” I said, brushing my thumb under her eye to wipe away the tears, “I only want you to be yourself around me. If that includes occasional crying, that’s fine. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“I don’t want to be the jealous, suspicious type,” she choked.
“Okay,” I said slowly, still stroking her back gently. “That’s good, I guess.”
“But I was going through your messages, and there was a photo of you with a pretty blonde girl, and you looked like you were about to kiss her. It hurt to see something like that, I just–”
I interrupted her with a light kiss. “Corina, do you mean the girl with the dangling blue earrings?”
“Yes. Is she an ex girlfriend, or something?”
Leaning back, I reached blindly beside the couch until I felt the paper gift bag. I set it in her lap, as she shifted back
a little.
“What’s this?”
“Just open it.”
She pulled out the light blue tissue paper to find a little white box. Opening it slowly, she gasped as she saw an identical pair of blue earrings.
“I ran into that girl at a coffee shop,” I said. “I stopped her because those earrings were your favorite shade of blue. It turned out that she was a fan, who absolutely adored one of my love songs. I was telling her that I wanted to buy those earrings for my beautiful new girlfriend just as her friend took the photo.”
