by Rose, Aubrey
Shannon crossed her arms in front of her. She was done hiding her tears. She stuck out her chin bravely.
“No,” she said finally. “I can’t live like that.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t want to think that you might leave me. I can’t live knowing that you might do something horrible while I’m not there. I can’t live knowing that sometimes you don’t want me.”
“I do want you,” Julian protested. “Always.”
“I won’t just be some girl you’re going to throw away once another woman puts her hands on you. I can’t do it, Julian.” Shannon choked back her grief. Every relationship she’d ever had ended in tears, because she always loved the guy more than he loved her. She flashed back to every breakup she’d ever had. None of them had ever broken up with her. They always slept around and she was always the last person to see it. Second chances, third chances, they all ended the same. It was all the same, all over again. Julian was abandoning her in the easiest way possible for him. She had thought he was the one, but no, of course not. Girls like her never got the guy in the end.
“You are the only person who means anything to me.” Julian said. His eyes rimmed red with tears.
“No,” Shannon said. “Don’t say that. Not after this.”
“You are.” A tear spilled over onto his cheeks, and Shannon could see him struggling to keep himself together.
“Don’t,” she warned.
“Please.”
“No.” Shannon thought she was done crying, but when he looked at her with pleading eyes nothing could keep her tears at bay.
“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You are the only girl I’ve ever loved, and I—” Julian broke down in tears. Sobbing, he fell to his knees. He leaned forward, his hands pressed in fists to his temples.
“I’ve messed everything up. I’ve fucked it all up. I love you so much, and I fucked it up, and I’m sorry, oh god, I’m sorry.”
Shannon’s heart broke at the sight of him weeping. She wanted to put her arms around him, to tell him that it was okay, that everything was okay. But it wasn’t. He had gone and ruined something beautiful, had broken her trust in him. But she fought the urge. If he couldn’t treat her, right, she would have to walk away.
He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back and left him holding air.
“Shannon…” His voice trailed off into silence.
“Goodbye, Julian,” she said, her voice catching on the last syllable. She turned and walked away from her dream.
CHAPTER FOUR
Julian watched her go and could not believe it. He had broken the one true thing, the only thing that mattered to him. All the money and fame and women meant nothing at all to him. Only his relationship with Shannon. And now he had ruined it.
For what? For one night of drinking. So that he could forget his loneliness without her. He could see himself in the not-too-far-off future: drinking at a bar, only his loneliness would be real. He had cut all of the strings holding him up and now he was on his knees with nothing to keep him from falling. The emotion-induced sobriety of the past few minutes disappeared in a wave of fuzziness as Shannon walked away from him into the Paris nighttime.
Julian pulled himself to his feet, feeling the alcohol all too vividly as he tried to catch his balance. Behind him on the sidewalk a small horde of fans and passersby had gathered to watch the drama play out. Julian spun and strode directly into the crowd. Cameras flashed in his eyes and he felt a tidal wave of rage building up, dragging its slow current into a huge cresting fury.
He swung wildly at the nearest person in the crowd with his camera out, not realizing how drunk he really was. He missed his mark and stumbled forward, knocking into a small cluster of fans. One girl screamed.
That’s what they want. Give them what they want.
Rock and roll stars got away with murder, didn’t they? What was a drink or two, anyway? He pushed his way through the crowd, uncertain of where he was or where he was heading. A new wave of bile rose in his throat and he turned to the sidewalk, heaving into the street. The crowd scattered away from him as he retched until all he had left in him was air. He pushed himself up from his knees and stumbled, glancing his head off of a metal pole. A lamppost? His vision spun, streaks of black in the periphery of his eyesight.
Shannon. A horrific aftertaste burned in the back of his throat and he gagged.
“Julian? Julian!”
He felt arms around him, the fingers gripping him through the fabric of his shirt. The fingers were cold. Everything was cold. He shivered.
“Julian, what the hell?” It was Alex’s voice. He swung his head backwards and a blinding white pain blotted out the world for an instant. Then he blinked and Alex and Asher were there, right there, standing over him.
“Don’t worry,” he said, or tried to say. The words that came out of him were choked and slurred and he couldn’t even understand himself.
“Julian!” Asher looked so worried. Julian reached up his hand and tried to wave him away. Shannon was gone, and nothing mattered anymore. He retched again upon remembering how she had looked at him. She had every right to be disgusted with him. He couldn’t blame her, not a bit. She had done the smart thing and walked away from a problem. He only wished he could just walk away from himself and into another life.
“He’s bleeding, look.”
“Let’s take him to the hospital.”
“No!” He yelled and swung his arm out of Alex’s grasp. A surge of dizziness took him over and he fell sideways. The fuzzy colored lights went black, although he wasn’t sure his eyes were closed. The last thing he remembered was the look of worry on Asher’s face and Alex’s voice.
“It’s alright. Everything is going to be fine, Julian.”
Nothing is right, Julian thought. Without her, there’s nothing right about the world at all.
***
Alex called ahead, and as soon as they arrived at the hospital a nurse escorted them to a private room. Julian’s head ached like nothing he had ever known before, worse than waking up from a hangover with nothing to drink. The nurse looked at him with veiled disgust as she helped him into the hospital bed.
I am disgusting. Julian felt like throwing up again, but there was nothing inside of him. Black and white dots streaked across his vision like static whenever he moved his head. He closed his eyes and felt like the world was spinning.
He could hear Pat’s voice, angry and loud. Then a doctor came in, and Julian looked at him from under heavy lids as he shone a light into his pupils. Ow. He flinched, shoving the doctor’s arm away. The doctor spoke quickly in French, and Julian had no idea what he was saying.
“You’re gonna have to stay the night.” Asher stood over him. “Julian? You get me?” Alex and Pat yelled at each other in the corner. Julian nodded his head, the effort causing him to nearly black out. Then the band left, and everything was quiet. The lights went out and for a while he didn’t have to think about Shannon and how much he loved her, and how much he had fucked it all up.
He woke up in the morning better, at least physically. It had been a rough night, but nothing he hadn’t been through before. He turned to see Asher sleeping in the hospital chair by the bed, a line of drool leading to a dark spot on the pillow tucked behind his bed. Julian groaned and pulled out the IV needle from his hand. A saline drip? He must have really been out of it. He didn’t even remember the nurse putting it in. Julian pulled on his shirt and smacked Asher on the shoulder.
“Hey, come on dude.” Julian pulled on his shoes and walked out the door. He had to get out of this damn hospital. He hated hospitals.
“What? Oh, Julian. Julian!” Asher followed him into the hall like a confused and sleepy puppy.
“Let’s go,” Julian said, gesturing.
“Okay, man,” Asher said, then paused in the middle of the hallway. “Wait, shouldn’t we like, talk to a doctor?”
“I know what’s wrong with me.” And it’s nothing a do
ctor can fix. I’m wrong inside.
“Dude, what happened last night?”
“I drank too much.”
“No, I mean what happened with Shannon?”
Julian spun around. Bad move—he had to lean on the wall to keep his dizziness from overtaking him.
“I have to call her.” He pulled out his phone and pressed the speed dial. Shannon’s phone rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail. He hung up.
“You texted her like a dozen times already last night. Until we took the phone away from you.”
Julian couldn’t remember making a single one of those texts. “What? What are you talking about?”
“You were really out of it, man.”
Asher paused.
“It sounded like you might do something bad. When you were talking about her last night.”
“Like what?”
“Like, shit about not wanting to live.” Asher shrugged, but there was concern in his voice.
“I’m not suicidal.”
“Could have fooled me.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me? Fuck you!” It was the first time he had ever seen Asher get mad. Hell, he had punched the guy in the face and still he hadn’t blinked an eye. But this time he was furious, albeit a mild kind of furious. “You’re like, fucking up the band when you do this. It’s not just about you, you know!”
Julian felt it like a punch to the gut. He turned away.
“Julian—”
“Jesus, Asher, I’m sorry. I—fuck, I can’t say it enough, even though it doesn’t change anything. I messed up.”
“It’s okay,” Asher said, after a pause. “You can fix it.”
“I messed everything up. I mean everything. With Shannon.”
“I’m really sorry, dude.”
“How can I get her back?”
“I don’t know.”
“How can I fix it?”
He was desperate, but the question stood unanswered. Asher had helped him win Shannon over once, but that situation had been a far cry from puking his guts out in a Parisian street with another woman on his arm. They stood in silence for a while.
“Forget about it,” Asher said. “Do the music.”
“Music?”
Asher shrugged. “It’s what you do. Fix what you can first, then deal with Shannon. First things first.”
“Music.” Julian felt something inside of him tug. He hadn’t played music for himself in a long time. It was always the band, the set, the recordings. Now he felt an inexplicable urge to pick up a guitar and just play any melody at all, just to get the pain out of his mind and into the air.
“Julian?”
“That’s what I need.” He strode off down the hall, Asher trailing behind him. He passed by the nurse’s reception.
“Au revoir, ladies,” he said, waving one hand in the air. His head ached as he made the gesture, but the pain he felt was all in his heart.
The hospital wasn’t far away from their hotel rooms, but when Julian arrived there with Asher the other guys were gone.
”They’re probably going to eat,” Asher said. “I’ll text them.”
“I’m just gonna stay here a while,” Julian said.
“Here?” Asher looked around the cramped hotel room.
“I’ll order up some room service,” Julian said. “I really just want some time to practice alone.”
“Oh, sure,” Asher said. “I’ll bring you back a eclair or some shit.”
“That would be great,” Julian said. He didn’t think that he could taste anything right now anyway. Asher left, and Julian sat on the edge of the bed. He picked up his guitar.
Music. Asher was right. That’s what I do. He began to play, and once he started he couldn’t stop.
CHAPTER FIVE
Shannon felt her heart shatter into a thousand pieces. She knew that Julian loved her, but that wasn’t enough. Not if she couldn’t trust him.
She called the airport from her hotel room, but all of the flights were booked until the next night. Tossing and turning all night, she finally got up at nine in the morning, bleary-eyed and completely unrested, and decided to go for a walk. Her phone buzzed. Julian, again. She ignored the call. She needed to escape, to get away. Even knowing Julian was in the same country as her was too much.
The park a few blocks away from the hotel stretched out in a long green line under the sunshine. Families scattered through the park, children screaming and running in circles. She had thought that France would be completely different, but sitting on the bench Shannon realized that things were more similar than she could have guessed. The one major difference she saw in the park were the overt displays of public affection. Couples in love walked past, holding hands and kissing.
Shannon realized that she was crying. She wiped her eyes with a tissue and tried not to care so much, but she couldn’t. Her phone buzzed with another message. Julian had been leaving tons of texts and dozens of messages since that morning, and she hadn’t been able or willing to listen to them all.
Come on, Shannon. Get yourself together.
She dialed her voicemail. Fifty-three new messages.
“Baby, please pick up when I call you again. Please. I just want to talk.”
“… God, why am I doing this? Let me make it up to you, Shannon, please.”
“Shannon, I am the sorriest asshole that ever existed. You deserve someone better. But I’m never going to find anyone better than you, so I’m gonna fight for you until it’s over. I don’t believe we’re over. Not yet.”
Shannon couldn’t listen. She hung up on the voicemail, crying. When the phone buzzed again, she wanted to fling it across the park. But when she looked at the screen, it was Asher calling.
Or Julian from Asher’s phone. Shannon hesitated for a moment, then answered it. She could hang up if it was Julian, after all.
“Shannon, hey.”
She let out a sigh of relief. It was Asher.
“Hi Asher,” she said. Her voice was trembling, and she coughed to get the lump out of her throat.
“Hey, so about Julian—”
“We’re done,” Shannon said, but she said it softly. “I hope he’s okay, but we’re done.”
“Is this because of last night? He was drinking way too much, sure, yeah.”
“Asher, I don’t need you making excuses for him.”
“I’m not. He’s always had problems with alcohol.”
“It’s not just the alcohol.”
“Then what?”
“There was a girl standing next to him,” Shannon said. Two girls, actually.
Asher sighed. “Sure, there are always girls fawning over him, and he always brushes them off. But he wouldn’t—he hasn’t touched another girl since he’s been here.”
Shannon frowned. Julian was the only person who’d ever made her happy, who ever cared about making her happy. But if she couldn’t trust him then it was all over.
“Asher—”
“Look, Shannon, I know he can be a moron. But he loves you, he really does. And like, I feel like this was kind of my fault.”
“How?”
“Well, you know, he told me he was lonely, and he always used to drink when he’s upset. But I thought that was over. I never thought he would end up sick like that.”
“Is he okay? I mean, he was pretty drunk last night—”
“Did you not listen to his messages? We had to take him to the hospital.”
“Oh my god.” Shannon put her hand to her chest.
“I’m sorry,” Asher said. “I thought you knew.”
“No,” Shannon said. “Jesus. He’s okay, though, right?” She couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice. If he did anything stupid because of her—
“Yeah, he’s fine. I wanted to see about the concert. If you would come.”
“No,” Shannon said. “Asher, no.”
“Hey, I can’t change your mind about Julian. Okay, fine. Just come to the concert tonight, please
. If he knows you’re coming, he won’t… it won’t be so bad for him.”
“Asher, this isn’t my problem anymore. I’m leaving on a plane tonight at ten.”
“Okay, but please,” he said. She could hear the worry in his voice. “Just come for a little bit at the beginning. Please. I’m afraid he’s going to fuck up the whole tour.”
Shannon sighed.
“It’s not my responsibility.”
“I know. But please. Please. I’m begging you. I know he’s begging you. I’ll get Alex and Daniel on the phone to beg you if it helps.”
Despite her tears, Shannon couldn’t help but laugh at Asher’s sincere tone. She exhaled. It was hard; she wanted to see Julian again, if only to say a real goodbye. One that he wouldn’t forget in a drunken stupor.
“Maybe,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“I said maybe. No promises. I’m not sure when I need to be at the airport.”
“Great! The show starts at six at the Eiffel Tower.”
“The what?”
She could almost hear Asher’s grin through the phone.
“The Eiffel Tower. See, I wouldn’t ask but this is such a big deal. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Before Shannon could protest, Asher had hung up.
Shannon sat on the bench, her phone dangling in her hand. What was she thinking, agreeing to this? She wasn’t sure if this was the biggest mistake she’d ever made or the smartest decision. Maybe it was both.
She walked through the park and stopped to listen to a busker playing an accordion. That was something you didn’t see every day in Pasadena. Stretching herself out on the lawn under a tree’s shade, she lay down not too far away from the accordion player. The sun warmed the earth underneath her and she closed her eyes. Just a little nap, she thought. Just a few minutes…
She awoke hours later, and the sun was high in the sky. What time was it? Her phone was out of charge, so she stopped a man walking by.
“Excuse—pardonnez.” She stumbled over the words. “Quelle heure et-il?”
“Quatreheuresetdemi,” the man said, his words jumbling into each other in an impossible mumble.
