reputation

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  Logical. Rational.

  I absorbed her words, willing them to dampen my racing heart.

  “You’re right.” I shook my head. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  The stagehand pulled back the curtain. “May the odds…” I heard her whisper as my smile—the one that belonged to them found its place on my face.

  Rep-u-ta-tion.

  The echo followed me out on stage. Even amidst the screaming crowd, my doubts droned louder.

  “Hello, Minnesota!”

  No matter what was going on inside, their energy always fueled my smile. I welcomed them. Thanked them. Joked with them. All my usual manner of finding my comfort zone in front of thousands of people. All the while my eyes darted to the side of the stage.

  Eventually, the words left my lips because they were rehearsed; they were expected; they were everything that was my life.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, if you could give a big ‘ol Minnesota welcome to my… breathtaking… boyfriend—and the leader of the opening act—Zach Parker!”

  The crowd went wild.

  Seconds felt stagnant as I stood up there alone. Waiting. Petrified.

  I turned to stare at the side of the stage, a familiar line of faces watching me, but there was still one missing.

  And that was the moment I knew.

  At least my brain did. My heart still lagged behind, weighed down with hope that had been bloated by love over the past many weeks.

  I gasped for air, hoping the mic wasn’t picking up on my slow death—as though it wasn’t written all over my face that was projected all around the stadium. I took one step towards the side, about to mumble something to the crowd when I saw him.

  His eyes were sharp—hardened honey; they were the amber that preserved the fossils of his feelings about me from the start, the feelings that put loyalty before love. Every. Single. Soul-crushing. Time.

  I took steps back as he walked towards me, the crowd cheering again unknowing that they were chanting for my demise. My thighs hit the back of the stool and I was forced to stop and wait as he descended on me. The hard line of his jaw told me everything I needed to know about how unshakably determined he was.

  “Zach…” I murmured when he stopped in front of me. “Please don’t do this,” I mouthed desperately.

  Everything around us vanished—just like it always did. It was just him and me. Our world. Our wondrous world.

  “Blake, I’m sorry,” he said clearly, succinctly. Like he was telling me it was sixty-two degrees outside.

  And it was in slow-motion—standing there in my black party dress, red lipstick, with everyone and no one to impress—that I lost him—one more time to match all the times I’d loved him.

  Zach lit a fire inside of me, a fire that burned so hot and so bright, I swore my love for him would melt me from the inside out. Now, he was dousing it. There was no warmth left in him, only a cold callousness. Nowhere and nothing ever made me feel as hot as Zach did… or as cold, the way he blew through my hollow heart like an arctic wind; I’d never be anywhere as cold as him.

  “I can’t do this anymore, Blake.” I choked as the lies I’d easily swallowed, the ones of love and forever, now came back up with a vengeance. “I’m sorry. It’s over.”

  He was saying it but it didn’t feel real; it felt like he said sorry just for show.

  I stood speechless. Agape. Destroyed. Derailed.

  There were no words left. For nine years almost everything I’d spoken, written, or sung had been about this man and now, that well of words was dry.

  What do you say when you’ve lived through this experience so many times that you’ve exhausted all heart? When you’ve replayed the tape so many times that you’ve destroyed it?

  What do you say when tears are streaming down your face in front of the entire world?

  And what did I do when the one who meant the most to me is the one—the only one whose ever had enough of me to break my heart—is walking away from everything that we had?

  The alternate, yet equally true reality crashes down on me: Zach Parker broke up with me in front of the whole world.

  At least he did it before I sang for him this time, I thought, looking down and seeing the droplets splatter on the stage floor. You know the pain is bad when the tears are hot—little drops of scalding sadness to seep into the cracks of my heart and burn away the nerve endings that are too frayed to fight.

  This time, as he walked off stage to the gasps of shock from the crowd, he took my whole broken heart with him. This time, he’d left me with nothing.

  Nothing but them.

  I turned to the crowd. My fans. Those whose love gave me the courage to stand on this stage time and again and share my heart with them.

  Even if I could, there was no point in going after Zach. In fact, I didn’t want to leave this stage. This stage was the only thing holding me together. They were the only thing holding me together as I quickly became undone.

  I was the idiot. I knew from the start that this was the type of thing that was either going to be forever or go down in flames.

  Spoiler alert: Smoke alarms were going off everywhere. Sprinklers were next. No firemen in sight.

  My hand shook as I pulled the stool to me, lifting myself up onto it as I tried to find the right words to continue.

  What was I supposed to say?

  ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Zach Parker, the one man who has taught me many things, but nothing as well as how to make a fool out of myself for him.’

  No.

  I pulled Marty onto my lap, my fingers wiping the tears that landed on my guitar.

  “I don’t know what to say right now,” I admitted quietly, scanning the arena quickly before looking down again. I took a chance—a shot. I know they think that I’m bulletproof, but I’m not. I listened to the hushed murmurs and whispers; I listened to them wondering what had just happened.

  I was a paper airplane flying in a hurricane.

  And then I heard it.

  ‘We love you, Blake!’

  ‘We’re here for you!’

  Tears overflowed from my eyes, dripping down over the knuckles of my hand that was clapped over my mouth.

  ‘He doesn’t deserve you!’

  ‘And he wears stupid hats!’

  My shoulders shook with a half-sob, half-laugh. I was in shock, I knew. I also loved those stupid hats. But that wasn’t important. The words kept coming—not from me, but from them. Encouragement. Love. Support.

  I didn’t deserve it, but they did for me what my music had done for them. I ripped myself apart to give them words that would make them strong. Tonight, they didn’t ask of me. They gave.

  They screamed and cheered so my small sobs wouldn’t be heard. They chanted and sang so I could have a moment to find my voice through the pain. They fought to give me strength.

  Mesmerized, I thought, this was it… I had fallen.

  But then they turned the flashlights on their phones on, a million twinkling lights suddenly shining in my view, and the craziest sense of peace washed over me. It’s these dark moments, in the darkest of nights, that produced the brightest stars. They were my stars. I was in awe of their glowing love. I was blinded by their shimmering support.

  I had reached for the moon and it landed me here, among them.

  Even though I didn’t have the right words to say, I knew what needed to be sung. Just like every other time Zach had done a number on my stupidly forgiving and needy heart, I dug deep for the lyrics to songs from my debut album, Heart Break—lyrics I’d written about him the very first time he’d broken me.

  It was time to let my music do the talking—the healing.

  Heartbreak was my national anthem and for the next four hours, I sat on that stool and sang it proudly. Alone. With only Marty to accompany me. I opened back up that diary of intense emotions and romantic mishaps and I relived them all so that the hurt had somewhere to go.

  A diary that should have come with the
subtitle: In Memory of Zach Parker.

  I confessed to them the truth about all of this time I’d been wasting, hoping he would come around—how I gave out chances like they were free samples and all he ever did was throw them away.

  I admitted to them that I’d needed him like a heartbeat. And then I assured them that this was the last straw because I didn’t want to hurt anymore.

  Finally, I swore to them—to them and myself—that we were never. Ever. Getting back together. How did I know that? Because he’d convinced me that what he felt was real, when in fact it was a lie. It was a show.

  I’d known all this time that we’d been walking a fragile line. It was strained but it was strong; I never thought I’d see it break.

  And because of that, I could never believe any more words that came from his mouth—even if those words were ‘I’m sorry.’

  So, I sang because that’s what I do. Because that’s who I am. And that’s the only place that I find solace. I sang and sang until I’d forgotten about our beautiful, magic love. I sang until all that was left was more wrecked memories of this sad, tragic affair. Some time in the future, I’d use them to build the walls of my castle higher—so high that even those reaching for the stars would be discouraged from trying to climb it. The walls would protect me, the Queen of Broken Hearts.

  And then I walked off that stage the same way I’d started this tour—swearing that I’d never let myself fall for Zach Parker again.

  And haunted by something that keeps me holding on to nothing.

  “What do you need, B? Let me get you something,” Taylor insisted, pacing nervously in her hotel room.

  I’d had the strength to walk off stage last night, but, just like I knew would happen, as soon as the strength and the energy of the crowd was gone, I sublimated.

  Not crumbled. Not shattered. Sublimated.

  A fancy word for turning from solid into vapor—into nothing.

  All of the hurt and pain that had been building and bubbling against the cage that the show had held in, turned me from whole into a blank space.

  I remembered Tay’s face as she tried to hold it together so that she could hold me together. I remembered going to her hotel room and her helping me into bed. I remembered the pain in my chest, my stomach… all of me… the whole time. I remembered how I cried because I couldn’t escape it.

  And I remembered Zach walking away. Always walking away.

  ‘I can’t do this anymore.’ ‘It’s over.’ ‘I’m sorry.’ The memory of those harsh, burning words worked to cauterize every injury caused from my heartbreak. The pain was excruciating. But it was the only way to stop the bleeding: to hurt so much that it singed my heart shut.

  “B?” Her hand rested on my foot, drawing my focus back to her. “Tell me what to do.”

  She was desperate to help, but I was beyond helping.

  “Take me home.”

  It was an easy request. We were leaving today for Nashville and then I had two weeks off before the final show of the tour, which meant that I had this week and the next to figure out how I was going to walk back out on that stage with a smile on my face like the entire world hadn’t been witness to the most painful moment of my entire life.

  “I went and packed all your stuff from your room. I have it here and all ready to go.”

  “What time is it?” I wondered out loud. She pulled out her phone to check and I saw her eyes widen and face scrunch as she swiped through notification after notification. “Almost eleven.”

  I groaned, pulling the covers up higher on my face and reaching for a tissue. “I want you to make them forget about me.”

  “Who?”

  “The world.” I didn’t want to be a star. I didn’t want everyone to watch my fall.

  ‘Blake Tyler’s heart broken on tour!’

  “Oh, B…”

  “What are they saying?” I don’t know why but I wanted to know. Needed to know. I held out my hand when she looked like she didn’t want to tell me. I was too fragile for her to fight me on it though.

  ‘Blake Tyler forms unique bond with fans after Zach Parker breaks up with her on stage!’

  “Overwhelmingly supportive,” she said softly as I continued to swipe through the trending posts, my stomach clenching tighter with each one that showed photos of Zach and me on stage—of my face when Zach walked off. “They can’t believe what happened to you—that he would do that. And your reaction…” She sighed. “That entire crowds’ hearts broke for you last night, Blay. Every. Single. One.”

  ‘Crowd Consoles Broken Blake at Minneapolis Show!’

  I clicked off her phone and tossed it onto the bed in her direction before wiping my eyes. My pillow was still damp from last night.

  “Glad to know,” I said thickly, hating how the tears demanded their turn to speak, “that the price of a spotless reputation around here is one perfectly good heart.”

  I knew this was going to happen. I knew he was trouble when I walked into this fire—and still, I went willingly.

  Shame on me now.

  “Let’s go home, B.” She sat down next to me and bent over to awkwardly hug me again. “We’ll find a way through this, ok? You are going to be fine,” she whispered. “I know it doesn’t feel like it, but your heart is far too big for a jerk like Zach Parker to have broken it.”

  I didn’t move, mostly because I was pinned beneath the covers but also because I couldn’t. Tears leaked down my cheek, the lie detectors of my silent agreement. She was wrong. It didn’t matter how big my heart was, what mattered was that I’d signed every square inch of it over to Zach.

  Shame. On. Me. Now.

  I was just tugging on a sweater when there was a sharp knock at the door. Stupid heart jumped.

  Even Tay darted a wondering glance at me before she took charge and went to open the door. I couldn’t stop my feet as they padded towards the muffled voices that were growing louder.

  It’s not him.

  Still, my heart fell when I rounded the corner and saw Ash standing in the doorway. Ever the contradiction, his eyes flicked to mine a swirl of defiance and repentance.

  And like a lightbulb flicking on, I knew that my brother had something to do with this.

  “What. Did. You. Do?” I demanded, my finger pointing obnoxiously at him as I strode closer.

  His eyes widened. Yeah, I’m sure I was a sight with my red eyes, red nose, coming at him like a raging red balloon. Seeing that he wasn’t getting Broken Blake right now, his expression hardened.

  “I didn’t do anything,” he ground out, stepping just inside the room. “But I could ask you the same thing, Baby Blake.” He taunted me with my nickname from Zach. “What did you do? Or should I say who have you done?”

  “You’re an ass, you know that? My personal life is none of your business!” I accused, jabbing a finger into his hard chest, wincing as it bent back uncomfortably.

  “It is when you’re fucking my best friend!” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes flaring.

  He knew. I knew that he knew. But to hear it from his mouth was like the final nail in the coffin.

  “How did you know?” I needed to know how long the rage had been burning inside of him.

  His jaw ticked. I wondered if he would keep it from me. “I saw you come out of the hotel together in Denver. I watched you get into the car.”

  I swallowed, remembering what had happened right after we got in the car to drive back out to Red Rocks.

  “What does it matter?”

  “It matters because he fucking promised he’d never touch you. That lying motherfucker promised me. And then he touched you; he goddamn touched my baby sister.”

  I saw all the things that were admirable about my brother and how—like most things in life—when pushed to the extreme, they become a flaw. Protectiveness over me to the point where he would destroy a friendship that he’d had for almost his whole life, to the point where he couldn’t see that he was protecting me from happiness. And lo
yalty to those he cares about—a select few—and in a way that he expected returned—a way that Zach had violated.

  I let out a groan of frustration, seeing red. “I’m not a baby! I’m twenty-five, Ash. Twenty. Five. And he can be your best friend and my boyfriend! I don’t understand why that’s so difficult a concept for you to grasp.”

  “Because!” He roared at me, letting loose. “Because you fucking lose yourself. Did you forget that I was there? Our entire childhood I watched as you traipsed after us, hoping that he’d give you a second look? I saw the way you dressed up when he was coming over. The way you borrowed mom’s make-up to put on for his birthday and Christmas Eve. I knew it was always you always stealing his t-shirts that got left at the house.”

  My mouth went dry as my heart thundered with each footstep that led me back to the past.

  “You made a goddamn fool out of yourself, Blake. I don’t think I need to remind you about graduation.” His words took what was left of me and ground it into nothing. “Back then, you were a kid and I figured you’d grow out of it before it mattered. But then you didn’t.”

  Tears had begun to stream down my face again.

  He swore harshly and speared his hands through his hair like he wasn’t the one who’d just ruined everything.

  “Do you think you’d be here right now?” He held his arms wide. “Do you think you’d have all this and be where you are had Zach given you the time of day? Let me spoil it for you, you wouldn’t. You were meant to do greater things greater than dating the boy on the football team. Around him, Blay, you don’t even see yourself. Maybe the limelight has blinded you, but I see you out there on stage. I see the way this brings you to life. And whether you want to admit it or not, you’d throw that all away for him. You’d throw yourself away for him.”

  I laughed.

  It was one of those laughs that was hard and painful and should have been given a different name other than what it was because there was nothing light or happy about it.

  What was it with the men in my life sacrificing me in my name? And then not noticing until it’s too late to do anything?