Unplugged II: Unplugged, #2

by Sigal Ehrlich

  “Miss you too, Kiis.”

  After persuading Tyler that my unbalanced outburst is a product of exhaustion, he finally lets me end our call with a promise to call him at any time if I need to talk. I collect my untouched feast and set it on the table, once again feeling horrible about the waste. I put the box and the paper on the nightstand and enter the bathroom. I wash my face, brush my teeth and change from the robe to Tyler’s, #JBiebs have my baby, T-shirt and dive under the covers.

  It’s too early to sleep so no matter how long I try, I can’t bring myself to keep my eyes shut for more than a few minutes. Not to mention the myriad of thoughts filling my mind to the brim that keep me troubled. I scrutinize choices I’ve made recently. Choices. Life, it is all about choices. Every single moment, unconsciously, or not, we have to make a choice. Our choices lead us to greatness, self-fulfilment, to being a better human, or more than often, not. By a fleet decision you can become someone’s hero, or beacon your own demise. Long ago I took an oath, one where I pledged to always consider others, always try to be a better person, because no matter what you do or how you feel, you can always make someone a little happier.

  Slowly but surely ideas pop into my head, signalling the path to what I want to do next, career-wise. And it feels reassuring. Feeling a bit more relaxed, I start sensing the heaviness of slumber weighing on me, soothing my body to sink deeper into the mattress. I yawn, snuggling deeper underneath the downy comforter and my eyes finally give in.

  A moment later my eyes rip open, recalling that I bought Tyler an engagement ring today. Kurat! Exhausted, I instantly fall back asleep.

  Perhaps it’s the traveling, or my mini emotional tsunami from earlier, but it’s hard to wake up from such deep sleep. I’m a bit disoriented when I turn in bed, realizing there’s a warm, hard body next to mine. First, I yelp, then I zoom in my vision on Tyler’s sweet smile. He’s lying on his side, head propped on his elbow, happy eyes on me.

  “Sleep well?”

  My brows bunch with confusion. “Where are we?” I send the room a cursory glance.

  “Vegas, baby.” The power of his smile grows with the appearance of his dimple.

  I send a hand to touch said dimple. Because, who knows, with the performance of my mental clarity today, I better check if this Tyler is real. This Tyler is very much real, and very much amused.

  “Who’s with Jeremy?” I scold.

  And The Smile? Grows and grows. “You care about my son more than anything, ah? Melena’s with him,” he says, looking at me with utter adoration. Tyler grabs my face from both sides and plants a kiss on my mouth. “Christ, I fucking love you.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Around ten.”

  Utterly startled, I ask, “How did you get in?”

  Tyler takes my hand and brings it to his lips. He threads our fingers together. “I persuaded the nightshift receptionist to give me a key, told him you’re my girlfriend and that I wanted to surprise you. Let’s just say that the fact that he’s a fan didn’t hurt.”

  “So, he just gave you a key to my room?” I frown.

  “Yeah. Right after, I gave him hell about giving me the key and that he should never do that again.” He smiles at me.

  “Hold up. Wait a moment. How . . . what?” I look at him still somewhat bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

  “What?” He grins at me. “Just taking care of the your missing-me-so-much predicament, Kiisu.” His twinkling eyes caress me. “How? Ever heard of the Wilbur and Orville brothers and they’re great invention?”

  “Wilbur and who?” I’m a bit confused, still in waking up mode, still absorbing the idea of Tyler here in the hotel with me.

  Tyler’s grin is becoming seriously hazardous to my poor smitten heart. “Wright brothers?”

  “Oh, wow, Mr. Adams, dabbling in comedy tonight, are we?” We chuckle in unison. It’s corny, and goofy and so wonderful. “How did you get here so fast?”

  “It’s not that fast, sleepyhead. The jet. We’ll be taking off tomorrow morning.”

  “What about my ticket?”

  Tyler rolls his eyes. “All’s fine. Now that we got the transport issues out of the way, I know you really want to show me how much you missed me, right?”

  The box harbouring The Ring flashes through my mind, but I push the thought away quicker than you can say “temporary insanity” and literally throw myself at my perfection of a boyfriend before I stupidly beg him to become my fiancé.

  Getting out of the bath, after we’ve mutually showed each other how much being apart made us miss each other, and, ahem, hot to trot. I shrug on the #JBiebs shirt and dry my hair with a towel. I watch Tyler dry himself via the mirror. This man. I focus on my hair, so I don’t attack him when we’re still catching our breaths. “You know, I’m sort of jealous, and to be honest a little troubled by your interest in Mr. Bieber,” I tease.

  Securing the towel low on his hips Tyler eyes me through the mirror. “Jealous?” His dimple returns for an encore.

  “Well, I don’t see you making a #Ivi, have my baby shirt.” I grin at him via the mirror.

  Tyler takes a step to reach me. He wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. Amused eyes regard me via the mirror. “Well, problem solved. I can’t wear that shirt anymore, it was confiscated. My girlfriend got jealous.” He sends me a devilish grin and wink.

  Tyler

  When there’s nowhere to run

  When woes scream in my head

  When I’m a step away from falling

  You’re there

  Through the good, the bad and everything in-between

  I thank my lucky stars for every look, smile and laugh

  I thank my lucky stars for you

  I toss the pen down to land on the tattered notepad and grab my guitar. I tilt my head to the side and close my eyes, letting my fingers run over the strings. I sway my head a little in rhythm with the tune in my head that morphs into the melody coming from the guitar. Humming, I strum. For a brief moment my mind drifts to something that has been in my thoughts since yesterday and a smile, a genuine smile, pushes my lips upward.

  I’m not one to snoop nor pry into other’s business. If you ask people who know me, they’ll say I might be tilting toward the other side of the scale. Jay once told me I can be pretty obtuse in detecting or minding other’s cues, or in paying attention to details for that matter. But, when I saw that square box on the nightstand at the hotel, it was stronger than me. I had to check why my girlfriend would have a jewelry box, one that I didn’t give her. Not to mention the hotel stationary with the most supremely kooky scribble next to it: “To propose or not to propose that is the question,” jotted at the top, underlined a few times too many.

  People do weird shit in Vegas. Sure as hell, I’ve done some things in that city that I’m not too proud of, but this . . . I can’t stop grinning. Ivi didn’t seem hungover when she woke up. I think I can cross out an impulse, under the influence ring shopping spree. And the notes on that paper, God, it was really damn hard holding it in when I wanted to laugh so fucking hard. Her scribbled, revealing thoughts and futile attempt at erasing some of them. She’s the sweetest damn human I know.

  I know it’s a private note, and I’m an awful person for taking a snap of the list, but it was too damn gold not to capture it for eternity.

  I glance over at the gifted author of said list, having the most powerful urge to wake her up, kiss her brains out and handcuff her to me so she’ll stay with me forever. This woman. I know her so well, every smile, wrinkles of joy, frowns, scent and curves, yet every time she’s near me, I get this inexplicable impulse to touch her, and every time I do . . . the feeling is euphoric, electrifying. I let her sleep, she looks so beautiful and peaceful. She’s fucking everything. I shake my head, a grin still plastered across my face as I pull out my phone. There are so many haphazardly written phrases and scattered words, some bold, some struck through. It’s charming, chaotic an
d dizzying. I read them all again, pausing on the highlights, having a hard time controlling my grin.

  To propose or not to propose that is the question!

  ‘Cause I’m a good person and a loving girlfriend!!! Yes, babe, you’re the best.

  I adore Jeremy. And I adore you tenfold for it.

  Does his kind even take commitment seriously? My kind? His kind takes you more seriously than you could ever imagine.

  Sundae!!! I chuckle, because . . . gold!

  Naeruväärne! Yeah, Kiis, it’s ridiculous, you shouldn’t have even a single doubt when it comes to me.

  I’m an idiot. Nope, hon. Just a little, adorably nutty.

  Grapes? Fruit?

  Should I wait for him to do that? I’d fucking die of happiness if you asked me first.

  He can have ANYONE! He could reel them in left and right. Babe, no one other than you matter.

  Coke! With tons of ice!

  Why am I even considering this? ‘Cause I’m you’re future, Kiis.

  Nõdrameelne Agree. You are a little insane, but in the most awesome way possible.

  I know he loves me. Dam right, baby. Every single word, damn right.

  Pickles!!! This one I don’t even comment at in my head, I just laugh out loud.

  “Pride and love don’t mix. Don’t hold back. Tell me everything you got. No judgment. No Ego. Just you and me.”

  Lyrics Tyler has been jotting down, absently playing a riff that’s been on repeat in his head.

  “Knock knock.” I open the door to Tyler’s studio, smiling in response to his inviting grin.

  “What can I do you for, Kiis?” He stands to walk over to me. Reaching me, he tips to touch my lips in a light kiss. “You sure you don’t want to join me tomorrow? You once told me you had a crush on the guy. You’ll be able to meet him in person.” Tyler teases me about meeting the Tonight Show host. Once, I said he was cute, more like my runner up in celebrity crushes, but hey, I got my first, so who needs seconds?

  I shake my head, keeping my hand with what I’m holding behind my back and send the other to his waist, pulling him a little closer. “I have a date with someone far more important to watch the show.”

  “That so?” Knowing full-well that I’m talking about Jeremy, Tyler still continues with our little flirt session.

  “Speaking of the kid.” I slide my hand under his shirt. “We should get going soon. Honestly, I really think Melena could use some time away from the hospital, especially now that Jeremy is making such a good recovery.”

  Tyler leans in to nuzzle his lips against my ear. “Concur.”

  Closing my eyes, enjoying every soft kiss and the feel of his scruff against my skin, I say, “Before we go, there was something I wanted to give you.”

  Tyler’s lips freeze for a beat against my skin. He straightens to his full height, eyes searching mine. There’s a new quality about him, he seemed anxious albeit in a pleasant sort of way. As if he’s expecting something, good news, maybe. He swallows, his eyes round in tenderness. “What is it?”

  I give him a curious look and dismiss reading oddness in his reaction. “Well, it’s something I wanted to give you because — ” I tilt my head assessing his physical response. I swear, I’m not imagining things. He looks . . . tensely eager, somewhat boyish. I’m not sure what’s causing him to act this way, but whatever it is, it’s beyond sweet. I spontaneously giggle, making Tyler mirror me with a nervous chuckle. Weird, but I want to record this moment so I can watch it on repeat.

  As I bring my hand from behind my back, Tyler’s lips stretch. If I didn’t know better, I’d say his cheeks are taking a rosier shade. When he finally sees the rectangular package I’m holding, for a beat, his eyes squint in confusion as if he were expecting something completely different.

  Tyler takes the gift from me, looks at it and starts unwrapping. I grin at him as he examines the framed photo. He chuckles, aligning our stares.

  “I thought it would be perfect for your studio. An inspiration for many love songs to come.”

  This time his chuckle is a deeper one, his lips stretched wider. “If that’s not romance, I don’t know what is.”

  We grin at each other goofily. In my book, this is a perfect moment.

  Tyler shakes his head as he takes another look at my gift. It’s a double frame, on the left side there’s a photo of me blowing a kiss at the camera, a photo Jeremy took. On the right, there’s a quote in italic font. Fun is over, babe, you have to leave now. One of the first things Tyler ever said to me. A sentence I thought should to be commemorated for generations to come as the epitome of romance. Tyler’s features set in a bright grin.

  “True romance. Some of the greatest love stories were built on the foundation of such great opening lines,” I say, making him laugh animatedly.

  “You making fun of me, Kiisu?” Tyler asks, setting the framed photo on the desk.

  I nod and grin, taking some steps back as Tyler walks my way. “Oh yeah, I am.” I shriek when Tyler’s arm snakes around my waist and I’m lifted, pressed against him.

  Reaching the wall, Tyler turns me in his arms to straddle him and leans me against the hard surface. Unexpectedly his demeanor turns serious, sincere. With just a few inches separating us, mouths hovering closely, Tyler says in a gritty, low tone, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Or ask me to do anything you want me to.” He pauses. “Or give me anything, never hesitate.”

  “Okaaay?” Should I tell him he’s being weird? He just told me I could tell him anything. . .

  “To me you could never do wrong. Anything coming from you would make me happy. Never hold back when it comes to us, okay?”

  My lips form a small, inquisitive smile. “Okay, Tyler, you’re being cryptically weird.”

  He inhales and places a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m just saying that you should never hold back with me. I always want you to do and say to me whatever’s on your mind.” He cocks his head, “Okay?” In tandem to my physical consent that comes as a nod, Tyler brings his mouth back to mine. I feel the press of his lips on mine, the mass of his body against me, his lips parting, his intoxicating breath meets mine.

  Enigmatic conversation morphs into a passionate battle where we both enjoyably fight for domination, with our mouths, hands and bodies.

  When we’re both catching our labored breaths, leaning on the wall amid the pile of a chaos born by our discarded clothes, Tyler says, “I’ve set up a meeting for you with my lawyer tomorrow morning.”

  I’m too blissfully stupefied to ask why. The epiphany only comes much later when Tyler is already airborne, en route to New York.

  Eli Cohen on Tyler Lee Adams for a magazine interview: He was a wild one. And, boy, such strong personality and equal part stubbornness. But I knew it. Right from the start, that boy had more talent and charisma in his finger than most entertainers had in their entire bodies. That boy always knew what he wanted, and he worked damn hard to get it, nothing less than what he’d set his mind on.

  “Essentially, it’s up to you, Miss Kert. You can either take part in one of the existing ones or start your own project.”

  “There are quite a few.” My statement is more to myself, given the gentleman presenting me with the portfolios is more than aware of their contents. “But — I mean, there are people working at these at the moment.” I point at the portfolios spread on the table like a fan. “I don’t want to compromise anyone’s job.”

  “No one will be let off if that’s your concern,” he says, adjusting his olive tie, flattening it with the palm of his hand.

  I unfold my crossed legs and push my sleeves up. “Wait, just to make sure I understand it correctly. I can either join these,” I point at the folders. “Or start a new one?” The last part comes out as a hesitant question.

  He nods, seeming somewhat bored with my slow comprehension. To my defense, it’s not like I’m used to getting these proposals often or ever for that matter. Not many people get to fulfil their dreams, no
t to mention have them served on a silver platter. “Exactly. Mr. Adams said to allocate half a million for a new project. I’m sure that if it’ll require additional funds, it won’t be a problem.”

  I blink at him and blink again. Perplexed, I stay silent for a whole minute, trying to wrap my head around everything Tyler’s lawyer, Mr. Daniels, shared with me just now.

  “Miss Kert?” Eli attempts to draw my attention. “Ivi.” I turn to him, pulled out of my contemplation. “Why don’t you take these,” he says while collecting the folders and handing them to me. “Review them, think about what interests you. Come up with your own idea if you’d like and then set a follow up meeting with Mr. Daniels. You can take your time to decide how you’d like to proceed. No one is rushing you to make a decision.”

  Tyler’s lawyer rises to stand. Buttoning his jacket, he pulls out a business card from his wallet and hands it to me. “I’ll be expecting your call.”

  Long after both men leave, I stay seated on the sofa, holding the folders pressed to my chest and gaze out the window to the garden. My perplexity is an outcome of a prior misguided assumption. When Tyler mentioned the meeting, I didn’t really know what to think. One of the ideas that came to mind was that Tyler wanted me to sign some sort of a living-together-agreement, a “prenup” of sorts for a so called common-law partner. Which I wouldn’t have held against him considering our “scale of wealth” tilts radically to his side.

  No, the meeting wasn’t about that.

  On the contrary, I’ve just been offered half a million dollars to start my own charity. Or, if I choose so, to help manage the Tyler Lee Adams Foundation or join one of the charities he’s been continuously supporting. I pick up the thickest folder and leaf through it. Tyler’s main project, to spread his passion for music by providing schools with needed assistance in creating exclusive music programs and scholarships for students. On the one hand, I’m surprised that I didn’t know about Tyler’s charitable activities thus far, at least in such detail that is, but on the other hand, Tyler is not one to brandish his achievements or his benevolent doings. I now remember somewhat vaguely Tyler telling me something about donations. On cue, my phone chimes with the man in subject on the other end. I swipe my finger on the screen and bring the device to my ear.