by T Gephart
“Why the fuck not?” The I-don’t-understand face came right after the sentence. “I take back what I said about Lexi and Alex, you’re the fucking drama queen.”
“Because I’m the fucking one who ended it, asshole.” The voice boomed, making the bastard sit up in his seat. “It was me.” I shook my head, the gravity of the situation hitting me, as I owned it. “I’m the one who told her we were done.”
“Well why the hell did you do that, loser?” Dan stared in disbelief, finally seeing I wasn’t the dude who had his shit all together. “Aren’t you supposed to be smart?”
“Because I fucking love her.” My head fell into my clenched fists. It was the first time I’d said out loud. The word hung in the air for a second before I was able to continue. “Because I fucking know that if she is with me, I’m going to hurt her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Dan continued on his trail of disbelief, the big picture not being drawn for him yet. “Are you fucking moonlighting as a serial killer? How the fuck are you going to hurt her? Unless you count dating a jerk-off like you as a personal injury, what the hell could you fucking do? You’re the sensible one. The reliable one.” He listed all the things I was supposed to be, not the things I actually was. Broken, should have topped out the list.
“No. I’m a fucking fraud,” I yelled, no longer giving a shit with the pretense. “You see what you want to fucking see. But I’m not a good guy. You’ve seen the real me, dude. You’ve seen me so drunk that I couldn’t stand up. You’ve seen me break some guy’s nose I didn’t know because I was so angry I couldn’t take it. And I think even you know how many women I’ve fucked in the past in an effort just to keep myself from going over the edge. That shit doesn’t go away, it’s still there just waiting to fucking come out and play. You want to put her on the crash course? And even if by some kind of walk-on-water miracle I can be guaranteed that someday my shit isn’t going to be jacked-up, what can I fucking give her? Marriage? Kids? What am I going to tell her if she wants to have that conversation?”
Dan stared at me, his mouth wide open; the outburst not the first he’d seen, but it had been a while since he’d been up close and personal with my crazy.
“Em wasn’t just some high school crush who just screwed my best friend. I had my life together. I stopped all that shit, and she dragged me right back to hell. I know Angie is not Em. But the shit that bitch put me through just about ruined me. Straight up, I wanted to kill her. Not pretend kill. Like actually do it. And the thought of being in a relationship again scares the fuck out of me. That someone could make me go that fucking crazy, or that I’d hand over the keys to my sanity again.”
So there it was. On the table. All of it, and I hadn’t held anything back. Never in a million years did I ever think I would fess up to being afraid of anything, but I’d said it anyway. I was scared. Scared as fuck of breaking Angie’s heart. Scared she would break mine. But most of all scared that I was so fucking defective that I didn’t have the capacity to be normal. To have a normal relationship where I could be with her. Trust issues. Giving over a power. None of it simmered well with me.
“I can’t tell her that love will conquer all bullshit when I don’t believe it myself.”
Fuck knows what I believed anymore, my reality had twisted so much in my head I was convinced that maybe it hadn’t been true. That all that shit from the past was a bad dream. Drama queen, like Dan said. And then I realize, it all happened. And I live that hell all over again.
“It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because I can’t.”
“Fuck me, Jason.” For the first time since he walked in Dan wasn’t wearing his shit-is-going-to-be-ok glasses. “This is really fucked up.”
“Yes. It is.”
My coming clean, now full circle. It wasn’t going to change, we could pretend it was different and wrap it up with a freaking bow but it was always going to be the same.
“I am fucked up and I am not going to fucking bring that down on her.” The thought of any of it touching her, ripped the rage right back to where I knew I could be dangerous. “Do you get that? I left because I loved her, because I’m in love with her, and not because I didn’t care enough.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Well, someone call Guinness. Dan was speechless. “Like legit, I have no words right now.”
“Yep, so you see a bunch of roses and a sorry isn’t going to cut it.” I laughed. Not because it was funny, because really, what else was there to do? Yep. World of fucking shit—population one.
“Maybe we should get Troy, he’s better at this shit than I am.” Dan conceded that he was in over his head.
“Nope, we get no one else involved. I will deal with this my way. I’m good, really.” First came the nod. “Give me a few more days, let the sting wear off and then I’ll move on.” Then I moved on to the forced smile. Fake-it-till-you-make-it was going to be featuring heavily in my repertoire for a while. The bullshit about moving on was thrown in for good measure.
“Do you really think you can?” Dan took about a second before he called me on it. “You said you loved her. I don’t know many men who can just walk away from a girl they’re in love with.”
Surely there was some catastrophic event about to take place. Like the end of the world or something. Because there we were, Dan being responsible, and me being the recipient of the advice. It was my time to step up.
“Yeah, well I’m not many men.” I swallowed, hard. “I’m me, and I can walk away because I know it’s the right thing to do.” It was the right thing to do.
“Stop being so fucking perfect, douchebag.” Dan punched me in the arm, his grin unsteady. “You’re going to make me look bad.”
“Only you can hear what I just told you and still think I could make you look bad. Trust me, Dan. I’m far from fucking perfect.” I shook my head in disbelief.
“You’re a lot more than you think. If it’s one thing Ash taught me, it’s that perception is subjective.” Dan slapped me on the shoulder.
“Wow dude, big words and everything. That beautiful wife of yours use flash cards when she taught you that?” I laughed. No seriously, someone needed to check the date. When did those Mayans say the end of the world was coming?
“Go fuck yourself.” He flipped me off, big ass grin of his face.
“Thanks.” The for everything that I didn’t attach to the end of the sentence was unnecessary. The eyeball exchange we had going on said more than that word anyway.
“Anytime. And for the record, my wife is fucking beautiful.” The smugness was back as was the smile he got when he spoke about his wife. “And if I weren’t such an arrogant asshole, I’d admit she’s way better than I deserved. But whatever her reason was for giving me a chance, I’ll take it. In fact, I applaud her lack of judgment. Maybe give that some thought.”
“Dan, stop, dude. You are freaking me out with all this maturity.” It was my turn to punch him in the arm.
“Ok loser, I’m going to go call my beautiful wife. Hopefully she’ll talk dirty to me so I can jerk off. This long distance thing blows, I think my balls might actually explode.” Dan stood up, pulling at the crotch of his jeans.
So much for Dan and his maturity, I’ve got to admit, it was starting to make me more than just a little uncomfortable. “And everything is once again right with the world.” I laughed as I watched him walk out the door.
The night in the hotel room with Rusty was my bottom. My low. There was nowhere further to go. The drinking, the idea of sleeping with some man I didn’t even know—punishment, because I was stupid enough to fall in love with the same man twice. Have my heart broken by the same man, twice.
So, I’d been an idiot. Dumb beyond belief. But I needed to start healing and love myself. Not in the narcissistic way Dan Evans loved himself, although he wasn’t as conceited as he used to be. But in a way where I accepted that what happened wasn’t a personal flaw.
I loved. That’s who I was.
>
I would never be perfect, my ass would always be bigger than I’d want it to be. My hair wasn’t going to suddenly be shiny, blonde and perfect. And I was probably always going to be the girl who said the word fuck too much and didn’t wear the right kind of clothes. It was okay, because I’m me. And rather than try and worry about what I couldn’t do or what I didn’t have, I would focus on the fact that I had so very much. A band that was more like family than friends, a father who loved me enough for the mom I missed, and friends new and old who accepted me for who I was. Fuck Jason Irwin. He didn’t deserve me.
“I hear Megs and Ash are coming in this afternoon. We going to lose you to the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants?” Rusty nudged my shoulder, taking a seat beside me. His grin proved he wasn’t anywhere near annoyed.
“You’d never lose me, but I’m glad they are spending the weekend with us. I miss those two so much.” My own grin widened. And my smile was totally not faked.
“So is that why you called this band meeting? You’re worried about my defection to my own sex?”
Rusty had sent a message early this morning saying we needed to discuss the rest of the tour. While it wasn’t completely out of character, it seemed way too structured for him. He was more a let’s-get-a-beer-and-discuss, not the-first-point-on-the-agenda-is. Which is why the four of us had gathered in my hotel room, the venue for our makeshift meeting.
“Yeah, about that.” Rusty rubbed the back of neck awkwardly. “Just remember how much you love me and how much your life would suck without me.” His sentence punctuated by a knock at the door.
“What did you do?” My eyes widened as they darted from the door back to him. Bodily harm hadn’t been ruled out.
“I’ll get it.” Max stood up, apparently bored with Joey and talk of his newfound fame. His face not showing surprise led me to believe he was in on whatever was about to go down. Bastards. Screw them and their unflagging loyalty to each other.
“Rusty, who is on the other side of that door?” I demanded, watching Max move to the door and pull it open. My heart had suddenly started beating so fast I was convinced I was going to have a heart attack.
“Hey.” Troy walked in, the rest of Power Station behind him. Jason being that he was part of that band was included in the people who entered the room. “Good to see everyone could make it.” He looked around and nodded to Rusty, some secret telepathic exchange taking place.
It was all rather inconvenient. Not the meeting part, whose purpose hadn’t been ascertained yet, it was the having to find another guitarist part that concerned me. It wouldn’t be easy to replace Rusty, as his death catapulted to the top of my to-do list. Of course I’d make sure he was properly mourned, it would be the least I could do.
“What’s all this about?” Jason’s eyes flared as they came to rest on me.
The asshole still looked good, wearing the hell out of the jeans and T-shirt that had been lucky enough to grace his body. I had given up hope that was going to change, obviously asking too much of the universe that he suddenly become grotesquely ugly. His body was also a problem. He needed to stop working out so much too. Thank god, he was still wearing a shirt. And why the hell was I even thinking about him and any of that? My to-do list was going to need an amendment. Shaking myself had now taken the number one position.
“Relax, brother. Take a seat.” James patted him on the back. By him I meant Jason, the guy who was currently staring at me. This I knew because I happened to be staring back. Awesome. It couldn’t get more awkward if we tried. At least I wasn’t the only one in the dark, the good-looking asshole I was currently eyeballing also seeming to not have received the memo.
“So anyone else chilly?” Rusty shivered, before nodding to Max and Joey. “Yeah, think we should move this meeting to the pool. Boys, follow me.”
“What, where are you going?” My stare match with Jason took a backseat to the threat of being deserted. Being alone with him never worked out well and my feelings were still very much off kilter. As much as I was planning Rusty’s demise, I needed him to stay. We needed a buffer; the Rocky Mountains would have been good, but at this stage I’d settle for the substitute that was my band.
“Angie, just know we love you. We’ll be back later.” His hand rubbed my arm in reassurance, his eyes spelling out that he wouldn’t be far.
My head nodded that I would be okay even though I didn’t believe it, which allowed Rusty to turn his attention to Troy. “Troy, you better know what you are doing. This goes bad, you’ll be finding yourself a new support band.”
“I’ve got it from here,” Troy reassured him, the it that he had still very much a mystery to me. The prospect of finding out wasn’t automatically filling me with excitement.
“You guys better come with us too.” Rusty glanced over at Power Station and jerked his head to the door. I almost fell to my knees in relief that the meeting just would be Troy and me. While not ideal, but just the two of us, I could handle.
“Looks like our cue to leave too, Dan and Alex.” James rounded up only two of the three band members who were supposed to leave. “I think the pool sounds like a good idea.” My relief short lived.
Great. We were being sandbagged.
“Is this some fucked up intervention?” Jason echoed my very thought. He’d obviously not been informed of the plan either, the two of us apparently the only ones in the dark.
“Jase, just listen to Troy.” Dan clapped him over the shoulder. “Sorry brother, but you’re both fucking miserable. This shit can’t go on.”
There was no further discussion, with both my band and Power Station leaving. And then there were three. Three was never a good number unless you were into threesomes, which I wasn’t so I could only expect bad things to follow.
“Troy, I know what you are trying to do but it’s unnecessary.” My voice finally found itself as I tried to reason my way out of it. The it still undefined. “There isn’t anything that we need to talk about.” We’d said it all before. Back to front and sideways. Nothing was going to change.
“Have to agree with Angie, nothing to discuss here.” Jase joined the party, his tone clipped and annoyed. Which just annoyed me more. In case anyone forgot, he was an asshole.
“Oh, so now you agree with me.” I couldn’t help the sarcasm as it leaped out of my throat before I had a chance to stop it. Honestly, not sure I would have anyway. “Allow me a minute to bask in the wonder that is Jason Irwin’s approval.” The eye roll was unnecessary but once again, couldn’t be helped.
“I’m not engaging in this, Angie. You want to talk shit, go right ahead.” His stare was fierce but not of hate—like mine—but of something else. Resolve? Intent?
“God forbid you engaged in anything.” I couldn’t help myself pushing it further with the hurt subsiding, as anger became my new best friend. “How’s life on asshole island?”
“Original. Still not interested.” He was so cold.
How could anyone be so unfeeling? We’d had tender moments, it hadn’t been just sex, but it was like a switch had been flicked and we were back to where we’d started. The weeks erased, with the Jason standing in front of me being the same one who was with the band when they’d asked me to first join the tour.
“Fuck you and your not interested—”
“Okay, both of you. Sit down and stop talking,” Troy exploded, the vein on the side of his neck doing the thing it did when he got angry. Which he seemed to be right now. “You are both giving me a headache.”
“Troy, thanks but it’s obvious neither of us want to talk to each—”
“I said, sit down.” Troy repeated, calmer than the first but no less intense. My butt hit the chair without any further encouragement.
Jase stayed standing, defiantly.
“That wasn’t a fucking request.” Troy paused after each word incase Jase was not reading the scary vibe he was rocking. That vein bulging at the side of his neck, threatening to explode.
“Fine.” H
e conceded and took a seat opposite me, which incidentally was as far as he could get while still satisfying Troy’s urge to have us both sit down. I was both offended by his conspicuous distance and relieved by the comfort of the safeness.
“You know what, you are both acting like fucking dumbasses.” Troy didn’t back down, holding his ground even though Jason didn’t look pleased. “And you both need your asses kicked as far as I’m concerned. You don’t want to sort this shit out? Well guess what, neither of you have a say in it anymore.” He eyed us both hard and I had no doubt that no one would be leaving the room until some sort of resolution was in place. Who needed a negotiator, scary Troy was enough of an incentive.
“There is nothing to be sorted.” My throat got tighter as emotions jostled for position.
“No, you need to hear something first.” While Troy’s voice was directed at me, his eyes were solely focused on Jase. Whoa. Scary Troy sounded like he had some insider knowledge. Here was the loop, and here I was—completely out of it.
“Troy, don’t.” Jase gained an understanding in their wordless exchange that clearly I didn’t. “This isn’t any of your business.”
“Is that how you see it? That this is none of my business?” Troy shook his head in disbelief. “You are so fucking wrong. That day you joined us—the band, you became fucking family. Doesn’t matter you weren’t there from the start, it doesn’t mean shit. You’re my brother, same as Dan, Alex or James and I don’t sit around when I see my family doing something I know they will regret. So you are wrong, it is very much my business.”
The urge to wave my hand and say umm … hello, I’m still here was overwhelming. Instead I went with sitting silently. Less attention that way.
“Em—” Troy started.
“Don’t. Don’t you fucking dare,” Jason warned, up out of his chair, almost lunging for Troy. Holy shit. I think he might actually hit him.
“You wanna take a swing?” Troy stretched out his arms, his eyes welcoming it. “Fucking do it. Because the only way this isn’t happening is if you lay me out. So you better make that first fucking hit count, because I’m only giving you one shot.”
