by Jessica Kale
“I like how you’ve been asking me the same question every day for the past three weeks,” she smirked, shaking her head. “I don’t know, actually. I call her once every two days, she texts me sometimes, but that’s it. It’s mostly me that’s doing all the talking.”
“So things aren’t looking up, just a little bit?” Jeremy asked, searching through a pile of headshots. “Cherry Brook, what an interesting name for a musician,” he said, holding up a picture of a young girl with a fiery red mohawk. Alicia giggled.
“I mean, I don’t wanna judge a book by its cover, but I don’t think we’re looking to sign with angsty teenaged musicians,” she said. There was a pause. “Also, I appreciate you checking up, Jeremy, I really do. But the truth is that everything I know about Gabriella these days, I find out on social media. Pathetic, isn’t it?”
A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Their unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around, Jeremy shifting uncomfortably in his seat while Alicia pretended to organize the headshots. Jeremy shuffled his feet around under the table, awkwardly tracing the outlines of the tiles while the silence continued to swirl in the air. “I don’t want you relying on social media to tell you what your girlfriend is doing,” he breathed.
“Do I really have another choice?” she asked, suddenly angry. “I call her, I snapchat her, I text her. If I wasn’t on such shitty terms with Devon, I probably would’ve asked him to keep an eye on her, too.”
“Do you trust her?”
“I do, I really do. But she’s shutting me out, Jeremy. She’s making me insecure.”
“The whole situation is fucked up, I get it. I just don’t want you snooping around Twitter or Snapchat for information about what she’s doing. That’s the number one thing celebrities shouldn’t do.”
“Well, I guess I’m just not used to the whole dating-a-celebrity thing,” Alicia said, averting her gaze to the window. She watched the cars whizz by, and when it got too overwhelming, she looked up at the sky. It was mostly clouds, deep steel blue-grays that mirrored the hues of the highway. Everything was a muted shade, like a dull photograph.
“Alicia, you’re a celebrity,” Jeremy said, his voice permeating her consciousness.
Suddenly it dawned on Alicia that the spotlight wasn’t just on Gabriella, but on her, too. Public scrutiny, all those eyes watching her, following her every move. It was a lot of pressure.
A suddenly knock at the door brought her back.
“Must be Logan,” Jeremy said. He got up and returned a few seconds later, the scruffy-haired musician following him into the room.
“Oh, may I have a look at those?” Logan asked, peering over Alicia’s shoulders. She glanced at Jeremy briefly before she handed the headshots over to Logan, who started sorting through them with a fascinated look on his face. “She seems interesting,” he said, holding up a picture of a curly-haired country musician named Emilia.
“Oh my God,” Alicia said. “She kind of looks like Gabriella.”
“You know, when I first met Ella, she had the same demeanor,” Jeremy smiled. “I remember she used to sport those cowboy boots that clicked so loudly when she walked.”
“I’m scared it’s all going to change,” Alicia said. “I never thought I’d say this, but I swear Straub is going to ruin everything.”
Logan cleared his throat, just to show them that he was still there, and when Alicia realized she probably shouldn’t be talking about work tensions in front of him, she slapped a smile on her face and carried on. “Well, we’d better get started,” she said.
“Oh, yeah. I wanted you guys to listen to this.” Logan pulled out a CD from his backpack. “It’s a demo by a friend. He’s a rapper, I think you’d like it.”
Jeremy took the demo and looked at the picture on the front. “And the cover’s really cool, too.”
“Alright, let’s play this baby,” Alicia said.
The trio had been on a hunt for talent lately. Ever since Logan signed with them, he’d been very invested, beyond the scope of a regular musician, in scouting for talented artists.
With Gabriella on tour, Alicia realized she had more time to hold auditions at the studio. In a way, it helped her get her mind off things. Nothing felt better, more therapeutic, than just sitting there with her eyes closed, listening to a fresh voice few had the privilege of listening to. Often she would encounter timid musicians, the kind that popped their heads in before entering. The kind whose lips twitched before they opened their mouth to sing, as if their entire lives hinged on this moment. Alicia hated to be the person to judge, she hated being the one to make or break someone’s confidence, but at the end of the day, she knew it was her job.
Hours passed and Alicia was still listening to demos. Some time in between, she had felt her phone vibrate on the table next to her, but she had ignored it completely. For some reason, she just didn’t feel like talking to Gabriella. She had gotten herself so invested in work that little could pull her out of it. At one point she looked around and all she could see were empty pizza boxes lying around the studio. She smiled to herself, marveling at this idea of home.
Logan and Jeremy were still going through the headshots while she sat in the corner, listening to the coinciding demos. After hours of sorting, judging, and critiquing, Alicia decided that she needed a break. “Alright, well, let’s call it quits for today, shall we?” she said, getting up on her knees.
“Let’s,” Logan said, winking at her. “Do you guys want to go to The Tap tonight? I heard there’s a performance there by a J-Star.”
“I’m beat, but you guys can go ahead,” Jeremy yawned. “This has been one long-ass day.” There was another knock at the door. “And it’s just about to get longer,” he said.
He got up to his feet and marched to the door. Alicia couldn’t see him, but there was something in the air that made her feel like the person at the door wasn’t going to be welcomed.
“Jeremy, who is it?” Alicia called out. She froze as soon as she caught a glimpse of Straub standing at the doorstep.
“Hello, Alicia,” he said, flashing her his renowned fake smile. The corners of his mouth almost seemed to twitch as they fought to drop and reveal his true self. He tugged at the sleeves of his jacket a couple of times before he stepped inside, inspecting the place like an FBI agent with a warrant. “I see business is flourishing,” he said, redirecting his gaze to Alicia. He looked around the place so hungrily that Alicia felt like it would go up in flames at any second.
“Things have been just fine, thank you very much,” she said, her smile rather inconsistent with her attitude.
Why are you here? She thought to herself.
She wished she had the courage to come out and say it, but something inside her, like a little patrol officer, told her to keep it professional. “Come in. Do you want something to drink?” she asked.
“A martini would be great right now,” he said, playing with his suit cuffs as he inspected the place with his eyes. First they fell on the brand new leather couches, then the hardwood flooring, then the recording equipment. Alicia couldn’t help but scream on the inside.
“Actually, we don’t drink at work,” she said. “But you’re free to have a diet coke. It’s in the mini fridge over there.”
Jeremy’s lips twisted into a smile. He knew what Alicia was trying to do. “Have a seat, I’ll get it for you,” he said, motioning towards the couch. Straub raised an eyebrow at Logan before he headed straight for the leather armchair.
“Straub, but you can call me David,” he said, reaching his hand out to Logan.
“James Logan,” Logan replied, shaking his hand. All four of them sat knee deep in silence; the air was so brittle it could snap. Alicia looked over at Straub. He almost seemed to be enjoying this.
“I heard a lot about you,” he said. “Your music is … fresh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything like it.”
Logan’s eyes darted from Alicia, to Jeremy and then to Alicia again. He contorted his lips into an awkward smile, but his cheeks were not so compromising. He could feel their reluctance to be molded the way they were. When Straub averted his gaze elsewhere, Logan’s smile fell lifeless, allowing his face to return to its normal hard gawk.
“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
Straub rose to his feet and started pacing the studio. He wasn't even subtle about it; he went around touching the equipment, trying out the instruments, even looking through the headshots Alicia had strategically placed under one of the beanbags.
“Those are nice guitars you have there. Is that a 1954 Gibson Les Paul?” he asked, picking up an all-gold guitar placed like an ornament on one of the stands.
“It’s not for sale,” Jeremy snickered.
Alicia and Logan flashed Straub a shameless grin, but he didn’t care. He continued to pace the room like he owned it, and that pissed Alicia off.
“So, how’s your work going?” Alicia asked, folding both arms across her chest and walking towards him.
“Actually, I wanted to ask you guys the same question; how are things on your end?” he asked, placing the guitar back gently and flashing Alicia that same, annoying smile.
“Just fine,” she said, pretending to dust off the equipment. She really didn’t want to deal with him right now.
“Do you mind?” he asked, picking up the headshots. Alicia didn’t say anything. She looked over at Jeremy, who was shaking his head frantically, as if in a state of disbelief. “Oh, who is she?” Straub asked, holding up a photo of a young woman with acid green hair that was black at the roots.
“She’s a singer who wants to audition,” Jeremy said.
“Oh, and when are the auditions?” Straub asked. Alicia wondered whether she should be telling him any of this at all.
“They take place several times a week,” she said. “Singers just send in their demos, we filter them out and call in the ones we like.”
“I see,” Straub said. “And do you have some of those demos right now?”
Sirens were starting to go off in Alicia’s head. For a moment she thought she’d walk in the direction of the drawer where they kept all the CD’s -color coded and all- pull out some of them and hand them over to Straub. But when she tried to move, her feet wouldn’t let her. She knew it was a terrible idea.
“Mr. Straub, I don’t think it’s appropriate to show you those demos yet. After all, they are only demos and their artists haven’t permitted us to share them with anyone else outside of our studio,” Jeremy said, staring at Straub through heavy-lidded eyes.
“But demos are meant to be circulated, Jeremy. It’s not like those artists don’t want to be recognized, don’t you think?” Straub said.
“Frankly, I don’t think there should be any circulating of the artists’ work, and that’s final,” Jeremy said, rather sternly this time.
Straub’s lips curved into a smile. Her whole life, Alicia had never been more annoyed. Jeremy was struggling to deal with this guy, and she was too shy to step in. It was times like these that made her realize how inexperienced she was, how raw. She didn’t know the first thing about dealing with people like Straub, but Jeremy sure did. Sometimes she got mad at herself for not saying anything, for letting Jeremy do that for her. Did she really need him to defend her and her job? It was all starting to piss her off.
“Okay, I respect that,” Straub said, sticking the headshots under the beanbag again and looking around. “So, out of the tens of artists that come to you, how many do you actually end up with, on average?” he asked.
“Are you running some kind of statistic on Jeremy’s studio?” Logan asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He was just as weirded out as Alicia was at this point.
“Oh, no. I’m just asking,” Straub said. The air was so dense that even Logan felt like going out for a breather. “Well, I’m not going to disturb you guys for any longer,” Straub said again, stuffing his hands into his pockets and making his way for the door. “But I will see you soon.”
Jeremy nodded and escorted him outside. Alicia rolled her eyes and looked at Logan, who couldn’t help but crack up. “What the fuck was that?” he asked, averting his gaze to Jeremy, who stormed back into the room.
“I have no clue,” he said, shaking his head frantically. “This motherfucker’s crazy. There’s no way I was going to let him listen to those demos.”
“What do you think he would’ve done with them, though?” Logan asked.
“Listen, people like Straub are very obvious about their wants. He just decided to barge in here and look through our shit, just so he could poach our artists from us,” Jeremy said, rolling his eyes. “People like Straub are powerful, which is why I was over the moon when he signed with Sawdust. But we still have to be careful around him, because our business is growing, too.”
Alicia nodded and looked away. Suddenly everything came back to her; the fact that Straub practically decided to replace her, the fact that everyone at StoneCrawl was conspiring against her, the fact that Gabriella was miles away. Suddenly, she remembered her phone, how it had been vibrating all day. Gabriella’s name flashed across her screen, and when she swiped to check what the notifications were, she realized they were snaps of Gabriella partying in LA. The moment Alicia pressed play, her heart skipped a beat.
The music was so loud it made her skin tingle; the bass thumped in time with her heartbeats. Alicia wished she was there. Over the roar of music, a distant, hazy chatter could be heard. Alicia couldn’t make out any words, but laughter rang in her ears and wouldn’t seem to stop. Happy people. Drunk people. Partying with her girlfriend while she was stuck here. Just the mere thought of anyone laying a hand on Gabriella made Alicia see red. Finally, she tossed her phone aside and let out a sigh.
“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asked, cocking his head to the side. His eyes settled on Alicia’s phone; he knew something was up. “Is it Gabriella?”
“Yeah, she’s taken LA by storm, apparently,” Alicia said. “Whatever, I’m trying not to let this get to me. Emphasis on trying.”
She collapsed on one of the beanbags and buried her face in her hands. She and Gabriella were worlds apart, or at least it felt that way. Tonight, she’d be waiting for her call. But deep down, she knew she wasn’t going to get it. And like every day, she’d be texting her to say goodnight, knowing full well Gabriella wouldn’t be reading it until the next day.
Whatever, she’s on tour, anyway.
Alicia tried to convince herself that that was the reason for Gabriella’s coldness, but it never seemed to work. The last thing she wanted was for this relationship to blow up in her face. She wasn’t going to let that happen.
CHAPTER 10
Alicia dialed Gabriella’s number and waited. The phone rang once, twice, three times. No answer.
“God dammit!” she yelled, clutching the phone in her hand. “She’s driving me insane!”
Alicia had been watching herself for the past two months. She had been getting skinnier and skinnier, her face drooping into more of a scowl every day. She was having a hard time sleeping, and an even harder time getting out of bed. Gabriella barely talked to her anymore, and when she did, their conversations lasted only a couple of minutes. And they were cold. Colder than ice. Sometimes it felt like Gabriella was just trying to make small talk with her. “How are you?” Even worse, “How have you been?” The latter made Alicia feel like they hadn’t talked in ages. “I’m good, how’s the tour going?” she would ask. Are you having a good time partying?
“I can’t believe this,” Alicia whispered to herself. She clasped her hands behind her head and started pacing the room. Finally, her eyes settled on a small leather-bound book on her pillow. She picked it up and started flipping through it. Her journal, from early 2009 all the way to 2017. Filled to the brim with her handwriting, and she wasn’t about to stop soon. She grabbed a pen, jumped i
n bed and turned over a new page.
June 6th, 2017
I don’t know why I keep coming back to this every night. The pen and paper. It’s like I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. Even Jeremy, his advice never does the job for me. Nor does Logan’s. The thing is, I don’t think I need advice. Maybe this is why I keep resorting to pen and paper, because they listen. They don’t offer advice.
Yesterday I called Gabriella for the first time in eight days. To my surprise, she picked up after the first ring. She said she’d call me back in five minutes. Before I could answer, the line went dead, and she never called.
This has been a recurring scenario for the past two weeks. I call, she picks up, says she has to go, promises to call back, and then disappears. That, or she doesn’t pick up at all. I often wonder why I’m holding onto this relationship with every fiber of my being.
And then it occurs to me that Gabriella is all I have. All those pivotal moments in my life, from quitting my job, to dropping out of college, to going to my mother’s funeral. She was there for it all. She was the first person I called when I signed those documents in the dean’s office. She was sitting right there next to me, dressed in black, as I shifted and fidgeted before my mother’s casket. She was there for it all.
And most importantly, she was the one who helped me figure out who I was. Before her I didn’t know what I liked, what I didn’t like. I was ambivalent -in a lot of ways I still am- but she changed me. I’m not gonna say I was this blank slate until Gabriella came along and colored me happy, but she helped me figure shit out, and I love her for that.
These days even our “I love you’s” are empty. Sometimes we even hang up without saying it. The first time it happened I stayed up all night panicking, thinking she would break up with me. But then the next morning she called me like nothing had happened. I was relieved, but something was off. And it still is. Something has been off for the past two months since she’s gone on tour.
God, sometimes I wish I had gone with her, but then I start to question my motives. Who am I? The supportive girlfriend, or the crazy jealous one? I would much rather die than cuff her with my insecurities, but she doesn’t seem to care what I do. I just sit up in bed every night, playing video after video of her, dancing on tables, swiveling her hips on stage, and taking pictures with fans. She doesn’t care what I do, but I can’t seem to let go of her, at all.
