Less Invisible

by Emma Rose

  But I was too afraid to do that. I was afraid that Jemma might not want to see me. I was afraid that she wouldn't forgive me for being a jerk that one time in middle school. I was afraid that if she found out I was a punk who sold drugs to minors and slept around to numb the pain of loneliness she wouldn't want anything to do with me.

  It killed me to tell Will I didn't want to see Jemma, but I was too afraid of what I didn't know. Living without her was like purgatory. Living with her would have been like living in heaven. Having her reject me would have made life hell afterward. I wasn't about to gamble between heaven and hell and lose purgatory.

  Will was disappointed in my refusal to see Jemma, but he didn't push the issue. After we talked in July, he didn't bother me until the last weekend in August. That's when he sent me a link to listen to Jemma's album.

  At first, I ignored the text message. I was on my way to a party. I didn't know how Jemma's album would make me feel. I needed to be in a boss mindset before going to the party. I figured just hearing Jemma's voice would make me cry and I could not show up to trade heroin with a tear-stained face. No one would believe it could make them feel better.

  So, I went to the party, drank a little, made some cash off of curious sorority girls, and danced to Kanye. I tried to have fun and let loose, but you know how it is, the harder you try to have fun the less fun you have. I started to feel depressed so I grabbed a Xanax from my buddy for the road and started to walk back from the frat house to my dorm room.

  The night sky looked beautiful. I could see the stars which was something I wasn't able to do in Manhattan. The air was dry and there was a warm breeze blowing through the air. The campus was quiet and peaceful save the few intoxicated partiers wandering around. I wondered why God was letting me experience something as beautiful as that night after being such a shitty person.

  When I got back to my dorm room, I didn't even bother turning the lights on. I just laid down on my bed, popped the Xanax in my mouth, and stared up at the ceiling. I was desperate for something to change in my life. Then, I suddenly remembered Jemma's album.

  My roommate was asleep, so I pulled up Jemma's Spotify on my phone and put in my earbuds. I closed my eyes and I let her sweet music fill my ears, touch my soul, and heal my body. Her voice was so beautiful, like an angel. I couldn't believe I was listening to my best childhood friend.

  I listened to her album all the way through from the first track to the last track and then I cried silent tears onto my pillow. I was so proud of Jemma. Her music was a tribute to what she had overcome and who she was a strong, humble, and kind young woman.

  I knew I had to do something. I had to tell Jemma how I felt about her.

  I grabbed a sweatshirt, a notebook, and a pen. Then, I headed outside. I sat down on a bench under a streetlight and started writing through occasional tears.

  Dear Jemma,

  I just finished listening to your album. I loved it. It was beautiful. I always knew you could sing. Remember when you wanted to ditch your choir audition and I made you do it anyway?

  I guess I just want to say I'm really proud of you. You're a better person than I am. I like you much more than I like myself right now. I know we haven't seen each other for a while and you might not want to see me, but here's the thing: I've never stopped thinking about you. There was not one day since I met you that I haven't thought of you, Jemma. On my good days, I wish that you could be with me to celebrate. On my bad days, I wish that you could be with me to make me strong again.

  I don't know why God gave you to me on the playground that day in kindergarten, but I do know one thing. I love you, Jemma. I love you more than anything in the world, and honestly, I just fucking miss you. I needed you to know that.

  Love your old pal,

  Oliver

  I felt better after I had written the letter and I went to sleep that night with a peace in my heart I had not known for a long time.

  When I woke up the next morning, I took my handwritten letter and a few bucks for an envelope and a stamp down to the post office. I was planning on sending Jemma's letter to Will's address since she was still staying at his apartment to my knowledge, but I guess I still wasn't fully awake or fully sober and I tripped over a rock. I dropped the letter and it landed in a puddle on the road. How could I be such a klutz?

  I picked up the paper quickly and I waved them to dry them the best I could. You could still read the words although some of the ink was blurred, the paper was too dirty and wet to send.

  I walked back up to my room and put the letter into one of my desk drawers. I couldn't leave it out to dry in case my roommate would see it and think I was some sort of emotional, lovesick loser.

  "Maybe me tripping and dropping the letter into the puddle is a sign," I thought, "I shouldn't send it. There has to be a reason that happened. It's not meant to be. I'd just be making a fool out of myself."

  And so, I decided not to send the letter, but I couldn't bear to part with it, not after I had poured my heart into it. So, I kept it for years until the time was finally right.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: JEMMA

  Being famous was as lonely as being homeless.

  Everyone wanted my autograph.

  Everyone wanted a selfie.

  Everyone wanted another album.

  Everyone wanted to ride off my name.

  No one wanted to be my friend.

  Will and Skyler had my back in a sense, but I always wondered if they weren't making a profit off me, would they really care? I didn't know.

  My first national tour was thrilling. I had no idea the United States was as large as it was and I could barely fathom the fact that people miles and miles away from New York City knew my name and could sing all the lyrics to my songs. Touring is exhausting and crazy, but it's so exciting that it makes you almost forget about your demons.

  The problem is that when you get back home and there is no crowd screaming your name every night, you kind of feel like shit and all the loneliness comes flooding back.

  That summer was looking like a season-long battle with my uncontrollable and confusing feelings but that all changed when I met Blayke Beck.

  It was July and we were both performing at a charity event in Los Angeles. All the biggest stars were sharing the stage at an outdoor concert for a children's charity.

  I was excited to participate. I can never pass down an opportunity to help kids out, not after growing up so vulnerable myself. Plus, there was no way my publicist would let me pass on it.

  It was a sunny, warm day. The temperature stayed within the mid-80s, but the heat was dry like they have in California, not like the oppressive humidity I was used to on the East Coast.

  That afternoon, I was getting ready for the concert in my dressing room with the whole entourage: my stylist, security guard, Skylar, and Will. I had those nervous before-show vibes, but my adrenaline was so high I thought I was high.

  The chaos of getting ready for a show is more than people would expect, but honestly, I lived for it.

  Everyone treats you like royalty. Making sure the room temperature is just right, bringing you your favorite snacks, and hyping you up. Then, of course, there's wardrobe, hair, and make-up staff working tirelessly to make you look stunning.

  It probably sounds selfish to say being treated like a princess was one of my favorite parts of my new life, but it's true. Growing up, nobody gave me any princess treatment, so I felt like I was making up for it now.

  As my hair was getting blown out, we began to hear loud thuds on the wall next door. It didn't really bother anyone at first, but after ten minutes of it, I was annoyed.

  "Will, who is next door, and what are they doing?" I asked frustrated.

  "Oh, that's Reason Being," Will answered taking a bite of an apple from the fruit basket, "I don't know what the hell they're doing to make all the noise though."

  I shook my head. Reason Being was the biggest boy band of the decade. Hailing from England (as all great boy ba
nds are) Reason Being consisted of four members.

  Zach was the mysterious, sensitive one with dark brown eyes and dark brown hair. He was the one every quiet girl had a crush on.

  Raleigh was the oldest, with bright blonde hair and the world's cutest dimples. He was the funny one.

  Mason was the hip one. He had the most tattoos, loved a good beanie hat, and had blue-grey eyes the color of the ocean.

  Blayke was the baby of the band, except he wasn't really a baby anymore. At 6'0" with dark brown hair, shiny green eyes, long eyelashes, and a six-pack of abs he was every girl's dream.

  "Well, can you go tell them to stop, please?"

  "Uhh... no, thank you. I'm not about to go tell Reason Being to be quiet," Will replied as if they were gods.

  "Are you serious, we're just going to put up with this?" I exclaimed as another obnoxiously loud thud shook the room.

  I looked around the room hoping someone would volunteer to go over and ask them to stop making such a ruckus. Nobody did.

  I rolled my eyes, "Alright, then. I'll go tell them," I declared with finality and determination. Nobody questioned me.

  Standing tall, I walked out of the room and knocked right on the door of their dressing room.

  Suddenly, the noise-making stopped and I heard a chorus of boyish laughter and jeering. I rolled my eyes yet again. "This is taking way too long," I thought before knocking again.

  At last, the door swung open revealing a red-faced Blake with a huge goofy grin.

  "Hey-" I started.

  "Hey!" He grinned as if we were old friends. "Guys," he called, "It's Jemma Jones."

  "Wait. Really, Blake?" Zach asked with a certain amount of surprise in his voice.

  "You better not be lying," Mason threatened.

  All the boys came to the door to see me in the flesh and blood. It flattered me that they were interested in meeting me.

  "I was just going to ask you guys if you could please stop doing whatever it is you're doing that's causing that ridiculous noise."

  They all chuckled like middle schoolers with an inside joke.

  "We were just playing a little bit of football, love," Mason explained as if I were the one being ridiculous.

  That's when I realized Zach still had a soccer ball cradled in his arm.

  "Don't call me love," I frowned. "Please, let me get ready in peace, and I won't bother you, K?" I said turning to leave.

  The boys shrugged and walked back into their dressing room. All the boys, except Blayke.

  "I don't know if I can do that, Miss Jemma," Blayke smirked and I felt like he was making fun of me. I didn't like it. "That is unless you give me something in return for my good behavior."

  I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "What? Do you want to do a collab or something?"

  "Maybe, but I want something else first. Here's the deal: let me kiss and I'll keep quiet in there."

  My heart fluttered. I was not expecting that. I didn't want to come off as easy or like I enjoyed playing his little game, but the thing was, standing there in front of Blake, I couldn't help, but want to kiss him.

  He was just so attractive to me. The mischievous look in his eyes, the joy in his smile, the wild side of himself shining through his voice.

  We stood there for a minute checking each other out and wondering what the other was thinking.

  Finally, I whispered, "Deal, but only if you promise to do it well."

  A sly smile slid across his face as he closed the door, leaving us alone in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Slowly, he leaned his body closed closer to me pushing me gently against the wall. I felt his strong guitar playing hands rest lightly on my waist while I rested mine on his wide shoulders. I looked deep into his eyes before closing them as I felt the touch of his warm lips on my lip-stick covered red ones. A current of bliss coursed through my body. Somehow, I felt like I was melting and flying at the same time.

  Everything about that moment felt perfect. The smell of his sweet cologne. The beauty of his gorgeous face. The sound of quiet, of being alone, even though we were in a public place. Letting my guard down and feeling beautiful, empowered, and vulnerable all at the same time.

  But it was only a moment. Blayke pulled away from me, and a slight grin spread across his freshly kissed lips. "That was nice," he whispered suddenly a bit shyer than before.

  "I thought it was beautiful," I agreed.

  Blayke was simply glowing at this point. "Let's do it again sometime, okay?"

  "I would love to."

  "Here let me give you my number," Blayke said reaching into the pocket of his Levi's to pull out a black sharpie marker.

  "I don't have anything to write on," I said.

  "Oh, man. Neither do I and if I go back into the dressing room, the boys will get suspicious."

  I bit my lip and crossed my arms trying to think of a solution.

  "Wait. I've got an idea," Blayke announced handing me the Sharpie marker. He then proceeded to pull his tee-shirt halfway up. "Write it on me. No one will see it there and then I'll definitely remember to call you."

  I giggled, but willingly sat down and popped the cap off the marker. I printed the nine numbers quickly starting at his belly button and continuing up in a diagonal line.

  "Alright, there you go," I said handing him back the marker.

  "Thanks, I might just have to get that tattooed on later," Blayke teased looking down at the numbers.

  I laughed like a little girl. Something I hadn't done since I was one playing on the playground with Oliver.

  "I'll text you tonight," he said, "You better not leave me on read."

  "I won't! I won't, I promise," I said.

  "Have a good show, Jemma," he winked before backing into his dressing room.

  I stood in the hallway for a moment trying to catch my breath. I didn't want to look too flushed when I went back into my dressing room. I couldn't believe that had just happened.

  "So, how'd it go?" Will asked as he swung the door to my dressing room open and sat back down for the stylist to do his work on me.

  "Fine," I said, trying not to act suspicious. "You know you can get a lot done when you ask nicely."

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN: JEMMA

  I felt like I was floating during my performance at the Los Angeles Concert for Children. I couldn't stop thinking about Blayke and how wonderful he had made my life for a moment. I couldn't wait to spend time with him again.

  After I finished my set, I watched Reason Being perform from backstage. Blayke really knew how to work an audience. I thought he looked even more handsome when he was singing. Girls in the audience were practically swooning over him and I didn't blame them, but it made me feel a little jealous. I wanted Blayke to be all mine.

  That night, when I got back to my L.A. hotel, I ordered room service, sat down on my bed with my phone by my side, and waited for Blayke to text me. Minutes turned to hours and I grew more anxious for a message notification, 11:00 p.m. past and he still hadn't texted, then 12:00 a.m. past and he still hadn't texted. I was getting sleepy, but I stayed awake hoping I would hear from him. Finally, at 1:03 a.m., a notification came through. It was from an unknown number with a strange area code. Quickly, I opened the text message.

  Blayke: Hey, It's Blayke.

  Me: Hey Blayke. I almost thought you forgot about me

  Blayke: I did until I got in the shower and saw the marker all over me.

  “How could I be so stupid?” I thought. He doesn't care. He was probably in the shower with another girl who said something about it.

  Blayke: Jk, calm down, how could I forget about you?

  Me: I don't know but you wouldn't be the first. Tbh I've heard everything they've said about you and I don't know if I trust you or not...

  Blayke: Don't believe everything you read, Jemma. Remember that one time everyone was saying you died in a freak hot air balloon accident? Lol

  He was right that was stupid of me to say. I probably hurt his feelings, but
then again...

  Me: Fair enough lol

  Blayke: I wish I could call you but I'm sharing a room with Zach and I don't want the other boys to know I'm texting you

  Me: Why? Do you have a girlfriend?

  Blayke: what? No ofc not. why are you so cynical?

  Me: I'm sorry. It's a long story.

  Blayke: well, listen, I want to tell you something and I need you to know that I'm being completely serious

  Me: ok, what is it?