Less Invisible

by Emma Rose

  I knew soon enough the morning's events would be leaked to the media, so I made the decision to fess up to Will as soon as possible. I thought he would be disappointed, but I didn't know how mad he would actually be.

  I knocked on his hotel door around 8:30 a.m. and held my breath. This was going to be one of the most difficult things I would ever have to say. Will opened the door and smiled.

  "Hey, Jemma. What's up? Everything alright? Why is your face bruised?" he asked.

  "Uhh...well, sort of," I stammered. "Can I come in and tell you?"

  "Sure," he said, eyeing me suspiciously.

  I followed him into the room. He sat back down with his coffee and

  doughnut at the table while Skylar was on the other side of the room doing her makeup.

  "So, what happened?" he asked as I sat down on the bed.

  "I did something I probably shouldn't have done last night and I'm really sorry about it. I didn't mean for it to end the way it did and it really wasn't my fault-" I mumbled.

  "Jemma, cut to the chase, what did you do?" he asked in a voice I hadn't heard before. It frightened me.

  "I snuck out. I snuck out with Blayke Beck and we went to the beach and he got in a car crash and now he's in the hospital," I blurted out.

  Will's face turned red and his eyes narrowed. He looked more pissed than I had ever seen him. I started to feel guilty.

  "But it's okay, he's going to be okay," I added quickly to try to lessen Will's anger.

  "You think this is okay?" he asked irately.

  I looked down at my lap and started to cry. "I'm sorry," I blubbered. I didn't expect Will to react this way.

  "Sorry doesn't cut it, Jemma. The press is going murder you for this and nobody's going to respect me as your manager." Will stood up and put his hands on his hips. "What the hell were you thinking?"

  "I guess, I wasn't. Damn it, Will! I said I was sorry. People make mistakes, okay and I'm one of them."

  I guess Will didn't appreciate me swearing at him because he slapped me straight across my bruised face. I started bawling. The slap stung badly and it made my bruises sore. I was too tired to put on a tough act, so I just let the tears flow.

  Will just shook his head and looked at me without sympathy. "Don't pull a stunt like that ever again."

  "I won't," I said but I knew I might have to if I wanted to see Blayke again.

  "I have some calls to make," Will muttered before walking into the bathroom. "Clean yourself up, we're leaving for the airport in less than an hour."

  I looked over at Skylar who was applying mascara. I wanted her to take pity on me, but instead, she told me I needed to grow-up. I felt betrayed.

  I went back to my hotel room and cried into my pillow.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN: JEMMA

  I looked out the window of my private yet and my excitement increased as I watched New York City grow smaller and smaller as the plane flew farther and farther East.

  Today, my crew and I were flying to London, England for the start of my second album's world tour. I named the album, Unstoppable, and that was exactly how I felt.

  I had enough money in my bank account to buy an island or an ocean liner or both. I could date almost any single guy I wanted if I asked. My career was just getting started and my future in the music industry looked bright, at least that's what Billboard wrote about me.

  I was young and hungry. I wanted the world and I was going to get it. I wasn't going to let anything stand in my way.

  Although I was thrilled to be going on my first world tour, my anticipation was greater for my long-awaited reunion with Blayke.

  The last time I saw him was in New York, three months ago, but it was only for a few hours. That's all we could get between Reason Being's touring schedule and my recording schedule.

  It was a sweet few hours though and the first time, I had seen Blayke since the Los Angeles media disaster. Of course, the tabloids got pictures of the crash. The next day, a photograph of Blayke crying on the sidewalk with me by his side went viral and soon enough everyone knew we were a thing before we were even sure we were a thing. Will did as much damage control as possible, but in the end, Blayke and I were trending for weeks and our follower counts skyrocketed, so Will made his peace with the situation. Blayke's fans became my fans and my fans became Blayke's except for the jealous fangirls and fanboys.

  I pushed the memory of the car crash out of my head and tried to remember our rendezvous in New York City instead. I reclined in my airplane seat, closed my eyes, and reran the events of that day through my head.

  It was a rainy Saturday afternoon in October. Reason Being was performing in Madison Square Garden that night. While all of Blayke's bandmates were resting up for the concert, Blayke snuck away to spend time with me.

  I had been waiting to spend the afternoon with him for weeks. I was so excited I could hardly bear it. That morning I woke up before seven in the morning which was very rare for me on a weekend day. I got in the shower right away. Thinking about Blayke gave me butterflies. I didn't know how I was going to wait all morning for him. I felt like I was about to burst.

  I put on my fuzzy, baby pink bathroom to dry my hair and curl it. I wanted to look perfect for Blayke. I spent almost an hour doing my makeup that day making sure each lash looked perfect and that there were no visible blemishes on my skin. I treated myself to an at-home mani/pedi which concluded with me painting each toe and fingernail a light, sky blue. After my nails were dry, I proceeded to shave almost every inch of my body or at least, that's what it felt like to me.

  Finally, I put on the dress I had bought last week specifically to impress Blayke. It was a white, linen midi dress with spaghetti straps and a v-neckline. It was tight around my chest but flared out at the waist. Two cute lace pockets were sewn in at the hips. The dress had an innocent look to it, but I bought it hoping Blayke would take it off.

  I didn't want to eat that day for fear of appearing bloated. Instead, I made the unwise decision to pour myself a glass of wine at ten in the morning. I tried to keep myself busy by practicing piano and guitar, but every few minutes I would check the time anxiously awaiting Blayke's arrival. He was supposed to come at noon. One drink turned to two and soon I lost count as I continued to refill my glass. I wasn't normally a heavy drinker, but something about the excitement and nervousness of seeing Blayke again made me drink more than usual.

  At 11:30 a.m. I examined myself in the mirror for any flaws I might be able to fix, then I began to pace the floor peering out the window every minute on the lookout for Blayke's ride to pull up. After peeking out for what seemed like the millionth time, I saw a limousine on the street outside my house.

  I smiled immediately and involuntarily as I watched Blayke step out of the limousine in a black hoodie and black skinny jeans. I jumped up and down as he slammed the limousine door shut, pulled his hood over his head, and ran through the pouring rain to my doorstep. Eagerly, I opened the door before he even had the chance to knock.

  "Blayke," I said grinning up at him. I was so happy to be able to say his name.

  "Jemma," he smiled from ear to ear. He stepped inside right away before I could invite him in, but I didn't mind.

  I closed and locked the door as he put his hood down and shook the raindrops from his curly hair never once taking his eyes off me.

  I turned and looked into those emerald green eyes I had become so enchanted with. He reciprocated my infatuated stare as he pulled his socks and sneakers from his feet and left them on the foot mat.

  "You're more beautiful than I remembered," Blayke said, taking a step closer to me.

  "So are you," I replied as he placed hands on the sides of my face.

  "I have been waiting to do this for the longest time," he whispered as he brought his warm lips down to meet mine. I let my body intertwine with his as I backed up against the wall and he pushed his body into mine.

  Slowly, he worked his way down my neck until it felt like he had kissed all th
e visible parts of me. Blayke stood back for a minute to catch his breath.

  "That was the best feeling I've had for a long time," I said stepping away from the door, keeping my eyes locked on his.

  "I agree, but I think we can do better," Blayke teased with a mischievous smirk on his face.

  I blushed, but I was all in with what he was inferring. "I have some champagne in the kitchen," I offered.

  "That sounds lovely, Miss Jones," Blayke said. The way he said lovely in his strong British accent turned me on more than I already was.

  "Come on," I said grabbing his hand, leading him into the kitchen.

  "I've been dying the past three months. What's with the drinking age here in America? Back in London, I could have a drink anytime I wanted to since I turned eighteen. Now, I'm almost twenty and I can't have anything over here in the states," he complained.

  "It's strange, isn't it? You're old enough to travel the world with your best friends and make millions of dollars, but you can't have a beer. Poor, Blayke," I said tongue in cheek as I poured champagne into two wine glasses.

  "Speaking of, how did you get your hands on this?" Blayke asked before taking a long sip of his champagne.

  "I have my ways," I winked. "I'll be twenty-one in six months. That's close enough, right?"

  "I'd say so," Blayke agreed.

  "So," I said tracing the rim of my glass with my pinky finger, "what are we going to toast to?"

  "Us, of course. Aren't we pretty great?" he asked cheekily.

  "To us, then, together," I said, raising my glass to clink with his.

  We both took a sip of our champagne. I could feel it go straight to my head.

  Blayke set his glass down on the marble countertop island and snaked his arm around my waist.

  I set my glass down next to his and put my hands on his shoulders. I looked up in wonder at his gorgeous face. I couldn't imagine a more attractive person.

  "What are we going to do today?" he asked slyly.

  I giggled, "Dance around the kitchen?"

  Blayke turned his head up and laughed giving me a view of his

  jawline from an angle I hadn't seen before. The sides of his face came together to form a sharp right angle that rounded out at the chine into a beautiful soft curve. I admired the way Blayke's Adam’s apple looked with his neck elongated.

  "Alright, then," he grinned.

  I laughed loudly. I was tipsy, but I wasn't drunk yet.

  Suddenly, I felt Blayke lift me from around the thighs and hoist me up, so my hands rested on his shoulders and the top of my head was a few inches above his.

  I rested my forehead on his and wrapped my legs around his torso. I gently kissed the spot in between his eyebrows. Then, I ran my fingers through his hair and played with his curls.

  "You're drunk. You know that, right?" Blayke teased in a loving way.

  I shook my head and squeezed his broad shoulders. "I'm not drunk," I countered. "I'm just high on love for you," I giggled tapping the tip of his nose on the word you. Blayke rolled his eyes. He was very amused by me being buzzed.

  "May I have this dance, then if you are so in love with me?" Blayke asked, still holding me in his muscular arms. He wasn't straining to keep me up even after a few minutes. I wasn't heavy to him at all.

  "Yes, you may, Mr. Beck," I answered.

  Instead of putting me down, Blayke waltzed around the kitchen carrying me around and singing, Once Upon a Dream, from Disney's Sleeping Beauty. He must know the song from growing up with three sisters.

  "You're a beautiful singer," I whispered, resting my head in the crook of his neck.

  "I know. I've been told," he said matter-of-factly.

  "You're arrogant," I said, giving his ear a playful pull.

  "Most definitely."

  "I like it," I said, moving my lips closer to his.

  "Oh yeah? Is that true?" he asked sarcastically.

  "Yeah," I said with my lips now nearly touching his.

  Blayke put me down so my bare feet were on the cold tile kitchen floor just like his were and we started to make-out.

  "Let's go upstairs," I suggested after a few minutes running my hands down his arms.

  "As you wish, princess," Blayke replied, pushing a lock of hair out of my eyes with the back of his hand. The gentle touch sent a shiver down my spine.

  I smiled up at him before taking his hands in mine. Together we ran up the narrow set of hardwood stairs that led up to my bedroom.

  I opened the door and Blayke closed it. Quickly, I went to the far window and closed the blinds while Blayke closed the blinds on the other.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed facing Blayke. He looked over at me lustfully with desire burning in his eyes. I felt my body go weak.

  Blayke walked over to me and grabbed the bottom of my dress. He pulled it up slowly. I stood and lifted my arms so he could take it off all the way. I shook my head letting my long, curly blonde hair fall back into place.

  I looked up and saw Blayke tugging his hoodie off his head. I gazed at this tan skin, six-pack abs, and defined pecs. I had never seen him shirtless before. He was hotter than I expected.

  I bit my lip as I watched him unbutton his skinny jeans. Soon we were both only in our underwear.

  He leaned into me and kissed my neck hard until I fell into the bed on my back with him on top of me.

  In between kisses, we undressed each other fully while we caught our breath. Then, we made love to each other and it was beautiful.

  It was my first time, but it wasn't Blayke's. He knew what he was doing and he was good at it. Sex with Blayke felt even better than I had imagined in my dreams.

  I fell into a light, peaceful sleep after we had finished. An hour or so later, I woke up to Blayke gently kissing the top of my head. I laid still enjoying being cradled in his body. I listened to the sound of his steady breathing and it comforted me.

  "You’ve dressed already," I mumbled.

  "I have to leave in a minute, but I wanted to let you sleep as long as possible. Do you know how cute you look when you're sleeping, Jemma?"

  I loved hearing Blayke say my name. It made me feel known and loved.

  "Not as cute as you do, I'm sure," I answered.

  "I had fun with you," Blayke whispered, running his fingers through my hair.

  I rolled over to face my new lover. "Me too. I hope we can do it again."

  Blayke looked at me sadly. "Three more months of the North

  American tour and then I'm going to find you wherever you are and come kiss those pretty lips of yours," he promised.

  "I'll be waiting for that moment."

  "You know absence makes the heart grow fonder," Blayke reminded me.

  "Then, I'll be completely obsessed with you by the time we meet again."

  "I have to go now, princess, but you can stay here and relax. I'll text you when the concert is over, alright?"

  "Alright, babe, I'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you, too," I said as he gave me one final kiss on the cheek.

  "Goodbye, baby," he waved as he left.

  "Goodbye, Blayke," I said as I watched the most handsome man in the world leave my bedroom. I fell back into a deep sleep in minutes and dreamt of a huge, glamorous wedding between Blayke and me.

  The next three months after that were practically torturous for me. I couldn't get Blayke off my mind. Thoughts of him consumed my every waking hour and when I closed my eyes all I saw was him.

  Finally, the waiting was over. Blayke was now living in London writing and recording Reason Being's fourth album and it was my turn to go on tour.

  My crew and I had booked out six rehearsal and rest days in London before the first Unstoppable show. I planned to spend as much time as possible with Blayke as I could during those six days.

  We had been texting and calling almost every day since we first met, but that was no substitution for one-on-one time spent together.

  Sometimes, I wished that we could be a norm
al couple. I wished that we could spend every day together, share an apartment uptown, and not have to worry about being stalked by the paparazzi every time we went out in public. It would be so nice to be able to sit down and have a nice meal in a fancy restaurant on a Friday night, but we could never do that without camera flashes blinding us every few seconds.

  Don't get me wrong, Blayke and I both love having fans. It feels good to have people who appreciate your work and want to emulate what you do. There are few more exhilarating and validating experiences than selling out a stadium and having fans scream out the lyrics to the songs you wrote.

  What neither Blayke nor I enjoy about fame is having the whole world up in your private business. It's intrusive, at times creepy, and it makes me feel dehumanized. I became a musician to inspire the world not to have my entire life become a reality T.V. show that everyone feels they have the right to comment on or criticize. I may have a platinum record, but why does that mean everyone has a right to know everything about me?