by Mia Villano
18
Daria
The heartache I’m feeling is overwhelming. They say time heals all wounds, yet my wounds seem wide open and raw. How could I let my guard down for Sebastian to tear my heart out again? Not only am I confused by what has happened, I’m also pissed as hell. Why is he messing with my head? Is this some type of sick game he’s playing with me? It can’t be. He bared his feelings for me just recently, and that couldn’t have changed so quickly, could it? I remain collected as I travel back home, hiding my emotions from anyone I come in contact with. Feeling vulnerable and ripped open, I want nothing more than to be home and left alone until I go back to work in a few hours.
Once home, I can’t sleep with all of the thoughts running through my head. I try to get a couple hours of sleep before my shift, going over the recent times I’ve been with Sebastian. There was no indication I could be bothering him or that he didn’t want me there. It was just the opposite.
It didn’t take long for my mom to call. With what happened the last time, I couldn’t ignore her calls. She would be too worried and probably fly here just to check on me.
Answering after the first ring, it was comforting to hear her voice.
“What happened last night?”
Walking to the kitchen to make coffee, I start talking. “First, I’ll be okay. I don’t want you or dad flying down here.” Today, my mom surprises me.
“I’m too tired to fly down there and we’re still in New York. If I’m worried, I’ll need to send over one of your brothers. This convention kicked my butt this time. Now, start explaining.” My mom is something else. I have no idea what my life would be like without her.
Grabbing my mug of fresh brewed coffee, I curl up on the couch. I tell her everything from how his eyes never left mine the entire speech, the way he acted when I went backstage, the public kiss on his cheek, and then the campaign manager telling me to leave him alone.” She listens intently, not interrupting me once, until I’m finished.
“Want to know what I think?” I hear a sigh on the other end.
“Of course.”
“I think you need an explanation from Sebastian before you jump to conclusions. This campaign manager is doing his job, and most of the time they do what they want without discussing it with anyone, including the guy that hired him. They can be bastards. You know in your heart Sebastian would not say to stay away from him, and he certainly wouldn’t have someone else tell you. Not after what you told me about the dinner and how much he proclaimed he loved you.”
“Yeah, Mom, but what if he just says those things because we’re alone. It’s easy to love someone when no one else is looking.”
“True, but I don’t think Sebastian is like that. You have good judgment, Daria; don’t sell yourself short. He loved you, he still loves you. I know it.”
I shrug, pausing before I answer her.
“I know. I guess I need to talk to him. I don’t want him concerned with this petty crap while he’s trying to win the election. He doesn’t need a distraction right now.”
“And neither do you. Your career is just as important, if not more. Go with your gut, honey. It’s always right.” My mom made sense, as usual. I need to hear it from Sebastian himself before I let this ruin us. After hanging up with her, I shower, dress and decide to go look for him after my shift. Bold, I know, but if I’m going to stay away from him, I want him to tell me that. The first place to start is his campaign headquarters. Chances are slim he’ll be there, but it’s worth a try, and maybe I can see about volunteering.
After a long day at the hospital, I take the metro and then walk to his office. It’s late afternoon- humid, and congested with commuters. Keeping my head down, I don’t want to look at anyone until I make it to my destination. With every step I take to his building, my uneasiness about what I’m doing intensifies. I remember the conversations we have had together. He’s the one who said those intimate things to me, looking into my eyes so I would understand. Fighting the urge to turn around and forget the whole thing, I decide if he’s not there, I’ll let him come to me. I’m not going to worry myself sick over it after today. My mom is right; my job is just as important and I have other people to take care of.
Walking through the turnstile into the elaborate building, I take the elevator to the seventh floor. His campaign occupies the entire floor and I feel the panic overtake me as I close my eyes and try to breathe. Once the doors open, I see workers on the phone, running around making copies, talking, laughing. Signs that say his name are draped on every wall. Sebastian’s picture is everywhere. A very enormous man meets me at the door, greeting me with no expression on his face.
“Can I help you?” I should have known he would have security.
“I’m here to see Sebastian Reed. Is he in?” The man stares me down, not saying a word. I eyed him intently, knowing under his thousand-dollar suit, he has a very large gun at his side.
“Who are you?” God, I must look like a nutjob coming up here with no reason other than I need to talk to Sebastian. This guy is never going to let that happen. But I have to give it a shot.
“I’m a friend and I need to speak to him.”
“A friend? Lady, do you know how many times a day I hear that?”
“Can you just tell him I’m here. He’ll let me in.” Pleading with this stone statue of a man is getting me nowhere. He’s not buying my story and he doesn’t budge. I notice a wire going to his ear and wonder if he’s listening to someone. Looking around, I spot Bruce Talbot. We interned together when Sebastian was in Congress. I wave and, thankfully, he notices who I am. Walking up to the security guard, he says something to him and reluctantly he steps aside. I walk into the waiting room, greeting Bruce.
“Daria Stewart, what the hell are you doing here?” We shake hands and he smiles.
Searching my thoughts as to what to say, I tell him I’m here to see Sebastian.
“He’s not here. He’s not here much at all anymore. We’re expecting him later, but I think he’s still in New York. Is there something I can help you with?”
“Uhm, no I was going to see if he needed some help volunteering. I miss the craziness.”
“That’s awesome. We can always use some help. Remember you and I canvassing for him in that horrible part of town many moons ago? We were so young. You look great, by the way.”
“Thanks. Yes, it seems like another lifetime ago.” It was another lifetime ago and I was a different person back then. Young and naïve and terribly in love with an older man. Standing there, I feel like nothing’s changed. We exchange small talk and he tells me they need help with phone calls. Hoping Sebastian would be in before I leave, I try to stall and ask about the campaign more. After a half hour, it’s obvious he’s not coming in, and I tell Bruce I’ll be back the next evening to take some calls. Not really serious about it, I leave with unanswered questions and upset with myself that I came down here.
The rest of the day, I keep busy as much as possible. I shop, eat out, and come home to get ready for work the next day. Turning on the news later that evening, they say Sebastian is speaking all over the country in a whirlwind campaign rush. Tonight, he’ll be in Wichita, Kansas, and Richmond, Virginia tomorrow. One news channel reports he and his longtime love Annalise Martinez have gone their separate ways. They show past pictures of them together and caught a picture of Annalise coming out of her apartment. She refuses to comment, and I feel a slight pang of guilt, knowing I had something to do with her sadness.
I’m plugging away at my residency, putting that first and foremost in my life. Talking myself into not watching the news for a while and concentrating on work, dancing, and making time for my new friends becomes my top priority.
One night, after an evening out, I arrive home to find Garrison on my steps outside. Not quite the surprise I wanted; nevertheless, he’s there. Acting incoherent and laying on his back, he looks as if he’s in bad shape.
“Daria, oh Daria, where have you been?
” His eyes are half open and he’s slurring his words.
“Garrison? What are you doing here? Can I call someone?”
He laughs. “Call the news and tell them Mr. President’s brother is fucked up on your steps. That would be a hoot.”
“Is your girlfriend here in town?” I don’t know what to say. I’m confused as to why he is here and not at his own house.
I sit down on the step and try to lift him up. Not knowing if I should call 911, I ask him what he’s on.
For some reason, that sets him off, and he seems to wake up from his drug-induced stupor. Sitting up, he glares at me, pointing his finger in my face, and gritting his teeth, he snaps, “I don’t want you to ask me another damn question. You got that? Don’t make me hurt you.”
I stand up and decide he can fend for himself. How dare he say something like that to me. He is an asshole, just like Sebastian has been telling me. “Fuck you, Garrison. Don’t talk to me like that, and get the hell off my steps.”
“Daria, don’t go. I’m sorry. I need something to drink. I need some water. Can you get me some water? I’m sorry, I wouldn’t hurt you. I’m a fucked-up mess. Sebastian is the man, isn’t he? He’s perfect and I’m fucked up.” I make the stupid mistake of arguing with someone not in his right mind.
“You have been given every opportunity to get your life straightened out. I don’t understand why you choose not to do that? I’ll get you a bottle of water, but you need to leave and go home.” I want him gone - off my steps and out of my life.
He seems to be fighting falling asleep again, and I fear if I don’t get him some water, he might die; though, why fight the inevitable.
He doesn’t answer and I leave him, unlocking my front door. Once inside, I don’t know what might happen next, and I lock the door behind me. If he threatened me, he could easily come inside and do God knows what.
Once I grab a bottle of water and open my door, Garrison is gone. His cigarettes, wallet, and his cell phone are still sitting on the step. Not over exerting myself too much, I walk down the steps to the sidewalk and look for him in both directions. There’s no trace of him. With his phone sitting there, I realize he must have Sebastian’s number programmed. I quickly pick it up and scroll through his contacts. Not surprisingly, he called him several times earlier. Hating to bother him, I decide his brother’s whereabouts are more important than my pride, and I hit the screen. It rings several times and just when I’m about to hit end, he picks up.
19
Sebastian
I instruct Cameron to drive me to Daria’s apartment as soon as the plane lands. Racing out of the car before it comes to a complete stop, I run up the steps and pound on her door. Frank and the two agents step out of the car, jogging to catch up with me. Frank comes up the steps and stands beside me with a pissed off look on his face. We don’t speak, but he doesn’t need an explanation because the way I’m acting says it all. Just like I thought, she’s not there. I don’t know if she left somewhere permanently, or if she is at work. Her residency at the hospital has her working crazy hours. f I was a normal man, I could go there and wait for her in the parking lot, or brazenly walk inside and ask to see her. I can’t do that, not now. That would cause a major news event and one I can’t deal with.
I must go on and get her out of my mind somehow, at least till this campaign is over. Vick is right; I’m becoming obsessed and now is not the time for it. Two and a half months left, and the campaign would be history, and hopefully all this bullshit will be over. I need to have some faith that she knows in her heart I would never tell her to stay away from me. If I could just get to election night, I will make it. Making it seems easier said than done.
After a few days, my anger at Vick subsides when I begin to head up the polls once again. I’m asked to guest a few late-night shows, playing my guitar with one host and rapping with another. The shit you endure when you’re running for president is ridiculous. Commercials are needed and I have to approve them before they can be aired. Besides the commercial we made with Lance and his family, my favorite was one made up of old home movies of me as a boy. It shows me sitting on my grandfather’s lap, going to conventions with my mom and dad, at my mom’s governor’s office, and then me as a congressman. It’s to show I’ve been surrounded by politics my whole life and it’s in my blood. It was cool having my grandfather and dad in the video. Including them was as if they’re here with me in some way.
I throw myself into preparing for my first debate and concentrate on Tex and his policies. I hear that my first debate against the Republican rival is going to be one of the most watched debates in history. I’m set to be the frontrunner of the debate and, as the media has dubbed me, ‘Mr. GQ of the election’- I hate that title. I’m getting old, my hair is graying, and I have wrinkles around my eyes. Plus, Tex will use my new title to his advantage. Preparing for this is a sixteen hour a day, seven days a week, ordeal. This is the debate of my life and I need to win. My Senate buddy Shane Corey is my sparring partner, and attempts to be Tex. We even got him a cowboy hat to wear as we work and he surprisingly catches on to the Southern accent.
The night before my first debate against Tex, I’m sequestered in my office with my guys, doing one more run through. Practicing for weeks, I feel I’m more than ready to win this debate. We’re going through the questions, when my cell phone rings. I blow out an exasperated breath, wishing I had turned the ringer off. Anyone I need to talk to is here with me, except my mom and Daria, and I’m sure neither of them is calling me. Surprisingly, it’s my brother. I hadn’t heard from him since our confrontation, and I hoped I wouldn’t again. He is apparently in Europe again, working on his art, and my mother and I feel Europe is the best place for him until after the election.
I step out of the noisy office we’re working in to talk. The outside air is unseasonably cool. The comforting smell of a nearby bonfire relaxes me.
“Garrison, what the fuck do you want now? I thought I told you not to call me again.”
“It’s... it’s not Garrison, Sebastian. This is Daria.” My heart sinks to my stomach. Sitting down on the patio chair, I take in a deep breath.
“Daria, how are you? Where are you? Why are you calling me from Garrison’s phone?” Trying to keep the inflection in my voice normal is difficult.
“I’m fine. I hate to bother you, but I didn’t know who else to call.” I hear a slight bit of panic in her voice, and keeping my voice from mirroring hers is a struggle.
“What is it, Daria?”
“Garrison was just here. I just got home and I found him on the steps of my condo. He’s completely out of it and talking nonsense. He became extremely angry with me and threatened to hurt me when I asked him what he took. Then I ran into my house to get him something to drink, and he was gone when I came back, except his phone and wallet.”
I stood up from my chair, pissed as ever.
“He threatened to hurt you?” Him missing didn’t even register with me. I could care less if he’s missing.
“It was nothing. I questioned him on what he was on and he got angry. I’m more concerned he left. He mentioned calling the news and telling them he’s your brother and sitting on my steps fucked up. Like I said, he wasn’t making any sense. I have no idea where he’s at. I don’t know how he walked anywhere or how far he got. I’m sorry to call you. I know I’m not supposed to have contact with you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
I pace around my porch like a caged animal. I want to rip the fucking shit out of that bastard brother of mine.
“Are you still at your condo? I don’t want you to go walking around looking for him this late at night. Get inside and lock the door in case he comes back.”
“I’m inside, Sebastian.”
“I’ll be right there. Don’t leave.” I hang up before she can answer me.
Walking back into my house, my office is abuzz with the guys pretending to be working up a mock debate between them. The whiskey’s out and I know
while they drink, I can bow out awhile.
Sticking my head in, I interrupt, letting them know I need to handle something in private with my brother, and I don’t want to be disturbed. “Listen, my brother just called. I’m going to go to my room to call him back. Give me some privacy and don’t bother me. I’ll be back in a few. You guys, keep doing what you want.”
Curtis walks up to me, speaking in a bad southern accent. “Hey, hey, you wait, boy. What about tomorrow? We haven’t asked you all the questions like ‘You will be entering the White House as a single man. Is there a reason you haven’t found Mrs. Reed? Are you a homosexual?’” Vick bursts out laughing, while I flip them off and walk out of the room. They’re under the impression I’m going to my room to call Garrison. I don’t want security with me, so I know I must be sneaky. Grabbing my keys and wallet out of my desk drawer, I walk out the door without them suspecting a thing.
I don’t usually drive, but I don’t have time to wait on Cameron, and I want to blow off some steam before I have to deal with my brother. I choose my favorite car, a black Jaguar. Slipping inside, I back out and turn on Hendrix at full blast. I grip the steering wheel and turn down Park and Vail, trying not to attract any attention to myself. My hands free in the car alerts me my cell is ringing before I get a mile down the road. I look at the screen on the dash and see it’s Vick. Knowing I can’t ignore him, I reluctantly answer. Before I can say hello, he begins screaming.
“Where the hell are you?” he yells on the phone, coughing.
“I told you I got a call from my brother. I have to deal with something in person.” Shifting gears, I almost run a red light.
“You took no security detail with you. Are you fucking nuts? You can’t walk out whenever you feel like it and not tell anyone. This isn’t college anymore and you’re not a fucking frat boy. This better not have anything to do with that girl.”
