by J. L. Ostle
A couple of hours later I am in a wheelchair heading out of the hospital, but last night spread like wildfire. Videos and pictures were taken of Nate drugged up, talking to me like I was an angel, to me passing out. Sam had to give a statement to the press that, yes, Nate was on drugs and was with Christal, getting caught by me, which caused me to get an anxiety attack. He said Nate deserves everything he is going to get, so he wasn’t going to lie about what happened.
Having the mask on, we leave and flashes go off, questions getting thrown my way.
“Are you heartbroken that Nate left you for popstar Christal White?”
“You and Nate going to reconcile?”
“What does it mean for the band?”
“Are you okay?” one reporter asks, making me stop. I look at her and I see sympathy in her eyes. I talk in Tegan’s ear.
“Star wants to say that she will be fine, but last night’s events have affected her. She is hurting, but she will be okay.”
We continue walking until we are in the limo. I am glad that Nate isn’t here. I can’t even look at him without feeling the gut-wrenching hurt that he invokes in me.
I slept in the limo all the way to the next venue. Nate must be on the tour bus, but the guys wanted to stay at my side. I wake up again to someone shouting. I open my eyes to see an angry Sam on the phone.
“I don’t care. If she plays in any of our shows we walk. Do you realize what you have done? All for what? A bit of publicity? If she plays we will tell the media that because of you, Blair got put into the hospital.” There’s a pause. “Good.” He hangs up. “Christal won’t be touring with us.”
I sag in relief.
“Way to go, Sam.” Troy claps his shoulder.
“If Jeff were here, I would punch him,” Sam says bitterly.
We talk about everything apart from music, laughing and joking until we get to our next venue, and I look out the window, seeing the bus. I don’t want to go in, but my stuff is in there. Tegan helps me out and once we get on, I notice it’s empty.
Maybe Nate is giving me space.
It is the least he could do.
I grab a shower and dress in skinny jeans and a black T-shirt. I’m not in the mood to dress up. I groan when I smell something familiar. I shriek when I see Jack. I run into his arms and he spins me around.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sam here called me saying you deserve some of my food. Plus, I heard what happened. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He hugs me again.
“Thank you for coming.” I sit in the booth and he sits opposite, taking food out of the bags, passing it around. When he passes me a panini I literally groan out loud, causing him to laugh.
“You enjoying it?”
“More than you know.”
We catch up until it’s time to head to the venue. I link my arm with Jack, Naomi linking with my other arm.
“It’s so great to see you,” I say to him when we reach my dressing room.
“It is great seeing you, but I have to admit hearing Sam’s voice on the phone was so unreal.”
I see a blush form on his cheeks.
“I wish I recorded it.” He shakes his head. Something in my head clicks.
“Jack, do you like Sam?”
Naomi’s mouth falls open. “Holy shit, are you gay?” Naomi whisper-shouts.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. I even tried to get our girl here to get with you,” Naomi says.
“I like men, yes.” He laughs. “Would have been flattered if you did ask me.” He gives me a wink.
“Something we have in common, Jack. I love men. So anyway, you’re into our Sam?” We all turn when we spot Sam and Troy walking in the building. Jack’s eyes go straight to him.
“Sam,” I call over. Jack has a panicked look on his face.
“Everything okay?” He comes over, looking at me with concern.
“Jack wants to ask you out on a date.”
Jack looks at me, but I stay focused on Sam, who looks at Jack up and down.
“I would love to,” Sam says, causing Jack to open and close his mouth like a fish.
“Yeah... umm… great… a date,” he stumbles over his words, making Sam smile bigger.
“Call me.” Sam winks at him before heading to the guys’ changing room.
“Holy shit, I have a date with Sam Winters.” Jack beams at me.
I open my mouth to say something else when I see a panicked looking Travis running my way. “No one has seen Nate and you are all meant to go on in five minutes.”
“I’m sure he will be around here somewhere,” I tell him.
“No one has seen him. Rich said he got in a cab and hasn’t come back.”
Okay, it’s time to panic. What does Nate think he’s doing? “I’ll call him.” I grab my phone, my heart in my throat when I hear it ringing but no answer.
“Fuck,” I say.
“What are you going to do?” Jack asks me.
“I don’t know.” I bite my lip. “Where’s Tegan?”
“She’s at the stage area,” Travis says and I run that way. She will know what to do. When I spot her, she looks at us all, lines forming on her forehead.
“What the fuck now?”
“Nate is gone and we are meant to go on in less than five minutes,” I explain to her.
“Shit.” Tegan starts biting her nails. “You will have to sing alone.” She grabs hold of my shoulders.
Is she nuts?
“I can’t go out there. What if I mess up?” I press my hand to my chest. I just came out of the hospital and I feel like I have to go back in.
“You won’t mess up. Remember what Mom and Dad always said. You have a voice that will touch many. It’s just one time. One time for you to stand out there and let them all see you, to hear your voice. Please do this.”
“Only if you get to play too.” I give her a knowing look. She looks to me confused. “I know your hand is fine. You wouldn’t have been able to do what you did to Christal if your hand was still healing. I saw the videos.” She looks down. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was enjoying being out of the spotlight for a little while. It was just refreshing.” She shrugs. “You think all that shit I gave you to quit and it was me who wanted the break.” She chuckles.
“Let’s do this together, sis. I need you.” I give her my hand, which she takes.
“Where’s Nate?” Sam and Troy come up behind us.
“Guys, head out there,” Tegan tells them. They look at her before nodding and getting in their spots on stage. “I can’t wait to see their faces when you come out.” She laughs. “I can’t wait until they see me come out.” She takes a deep breath and starts walking on stage.
“Holy shit, you are going to be the lead singer tonight,” Naomi shrieks next to me.
“I’m going to be sick,” I tell her.
“Always the drama queen. Get your ass out there.”
I stand next to Travis and he gives a nod to the lighting guy and the whole stage turns black. I can hear the crowd screaming out the band’s name, screaming out for Nate.
Don’t pass out. I chant in my head.
I walk slowly onto the stage, my hand holding on to the microphone. I start to sing Evanescence’s “Call Me when You are Sober.” I sing the first part then Tegan joins me with the guitar. It doesn’t take long for the guys to join us also. I close my eyes when I feel the light shine on me. I let the music take me. I let the anger that I’m feeling consume me as I sing this song.
Opening my eyes, I look at the crowd and they are all silent watching me. Soon they disappear. It’s all blank. I just see images of Nate, images of him taking the drugs, seeing him fuck that horrible woman, then it’s him pleading to me. Him on his hands and knees.
That image of his eyes soaring into mine flashes over and over.
Anger.
Hurt.
The two emotions that are consuming me.
Th
e lines of the song suit what I’m feeling.
More images of him telling me that I am his drug, that my voice soars into him.
Bullshit.
Womanizing asshole.
Years I spent obsessing over him, accepting the little scraps of affection.
What girl waits for a guy to be drunk just so they are nicer?
I sing harder, louder, stronger.
The words seeping out of me, it’s like I’m cleansing myself. I want to clean myself from all this. I don’t want it. I love music, but this is a price I don’t want to pay.
It’s unhealthy.
It’s close to the end. I walk closer to the edge of the stage, singing out to the crowd on the last line.
When it’s over I wait.
I look behind me at Troy and Sam, who are staring at me in awe, then I look at Tegan, who is smiling at me proudly. It’s then when I have to double take what I’m hearing.
It’s cheering.
I turn to the crowd and they are screaming out my name. Well, Star’s name, but they are chanting it out, chanting out for more. I chuckle, shaking my head.
They liked me.
I look around the room. When I look forward I swear I see my parents standing there, out in the crowd smiling up at me. I move closer but people move, blocking my view and when they move again, my parents are gone.
I swear I saw them.
I’m sure it was them. I look up at the ceiling, closing my eyes.
I guess my dream did come true.
I let the world hear me sing, letting me be me.
I sing a few more of the band’s songs, and with each song, I feel even more revved up. This is quite addictive. I never want to stop singing. It is the last song of the night and I decide to sing a sad song. If this is the last song I get to sing, I want to sing a song showing my emotions.
I get why Nate does it.
It’s like talking it out, but instead, you’re singing it through song.
I start to sing Miley Cyrus’ “Wrecking Ball.” I start it off slow. The song is how I feel. I know in some way I will always want Nate. He was the first guy I crushed on, the first guy I held close to my heart.
Naomi is right.
I’m in love with him. I’ve always been in love with him.
Without meaning to, I gave him my heart. The last few days I gave him all of me. He just wouldn’t do the same. He wanted it all.
The lifestyle, the fantasy, the fame.
I was never going to be enough.
A tear falls down my cheek.
I sing the last of the song and I just feel emotionally spent. With Tegan able to play again, I don’t want to stay. I can’t be around Nate. The crowd is applauding and I give a little bow, ready to leave the stage when I hear the crowd go crazy screaming out Nate’s name. I turn, seeing him holding a mic on the other side of the stage.
I can tell he is still on drugs. He lifts the mic up and starts singing “You Give Love a Bad Name” by Bon Jovi. My mouth falls open, that he will sing this to me. He smirks at me in such a nasty way, walking slowly to me, singing angrily at me.
I just stand there watching him, him spewing this song to me.
The guys have stopped playing, but it doesn’t help. The music system is playing the song. It is echoing all around the room. The crowd is loving it. They aren’t realizing that this is for my benefit.
He screams ‘You give love a bad name’ at me. When the instrumental bit comes on, he stands close to me, his eyes piercing mine. I have never seen so much hate in them. How dare he look at me like this?
He’s the one who fucked up, not me. I try to walk away but he grabs hold of my waist, singing the chorus over and over at me. Tears are falling down my cheeks. I am about to break. I try and break free, but he is too strong. Without thinking, I slap him hard across the face before running off the stage.
I hear Naomi calling out to me, but I keep on running.
I run outside. I fall onto my knees, and it’s then the sky decides to open up, rain pouring down. I cry so hard that I can feel my body shake from it. He had to hurt me more. I hear the doors open behind me.
God must hate me because my body starts to vibrate. I know it’s him who’s behind me.
“Now you know how it feels to hurt,” he viciously says. “You fucked me up for years, Blair. You are still fucking with me.” He stands in front of me, not caring that I’m on the dirty floor on my hands and knees getting soaked.
“You broke me,” I sob to him. “You broke me,” I scream out.
“Maybe you were already broken.”
I look up and he stands there glaring down at me. It’s when I look past him I see reporters filming this. I cry even more.
If I could go back to when Tegan warned me about this, I wouldn’t have auditioned, but I probably would have still been pining about this dick in front of me.
He bends down, moving some hair from my forehead. “To think it was you I would have given my heart to.” He looks at me like I’m nothing but dirt on his shoe.
“I don’t even think you have a heart.” I sniff.
“I did. Now I rather give it to the devil.” He stands up. The doors open again. I sigh when I feel Naomi come to my side, pulling me into her.
“What, you haven’t hurt her enough?” Tegan roars at him.
“Me hurt her? She has fucked with my head. She is stuck in here.” He points to the side of his head. “She won’t fucking leave,” he yells at me.
“What, so you think the answer is to fuck someone else? You messed up. She’s the victim, not you. You are just a pathetic little boy.” Tegan pushes him.
“Maybe if she opened her legs for me, I wouldn’t have gone elsewhere.”
I look up, feeling hurt and disgusted, when Tegan punches him in the face.
“You piece of shit.” She jumps on him. Sam and Troy try and pull her off, with her arms and legs flying around. “You disgust me.”
“Fuck this shit.” He walks away. I see him pulling out something from his pocket. More drugs.
How has so much changed in the last thirty-six hours?
“Let’s get you home.” Naomi helps me to stand. My clothes are soaked, and my teeth chattering.
“I quit,” I whisper.
“What?” Naomi asks.
“I quit,” I say louder. “I can’t do this. I want to get showered, then I’m grabbing the first flight home. I’m going home.”
“Whatever you want. Let’s get you warmed up.” Tegan comes to my other side and they help me in the changing rooms. I even ask them to come with me into the bathroom, where I fall to my knees in the shower, crying. Tegan and Naomi climb in, holding me, not caring that they are getting wet.
All I wanted was to sing.
I got to, but now I feel like I am not me.
He literally turned me into nothing.
A couple of weeks have gone by and my life still hasn’t settled. Naomi and I got a new apartment. No way am I living back in that house.
Too many memories.
Tegan made sure I got all the money owed to me and then some. I have enough money to live off comfortably for the rest of my life if I wanted. First thing I did was get us a place, which we turned into our own.
Nate went into rehab when the guys threatened to quit the band if he didn’t.
That night, me on my knees, it went viral.
Another thing that will always be around in cyberspace.
Fans weren’t happy with what they saw. They called him a bully and it was also the night Star disappeared. Seeing me on the floor wasn’t a sight I want to see again. I couldn’t even recognize myself. Seeing how detached Nate was. That is not the man I grew up knowing.
I know it was the drugs, but he got addicted. Tegan found out that last year he was using when with Christal, and no one knew apart from her.
He goes from one addiction to another, this I am starting to realize.
People pleaded on social media for me to continue singi
ng. People posting videos telling me how much they loved my voice and that I should start my own singing career. A few even offered to hurt Nate if I agreed to sing again, which was amusing.
Nate called me every minute of the day, leaving messages and voicemails, but I ignored them. I even got myself a new phone. Nothing he can say or do will ever make what he did and say all right.
It’s funny really. Alcohol makes him nice.
Drugs makes him a dick.
I am looking through the newspaper, seeing what jobs are out there to keep me distracted. I can’t just lie on my ass all day. I see an ad for singers to do gigs at a popular club in town. I am biting my lip when Naomi comes up behind me, causing me to jump.
“Apply,” she says.
“You need to wear a bell.” I laugh at her. “Apply for what?” I act dumb.
“You know you want to sing again. The world outside wants you to sing again.” She points to the door.
“They want Star to sing again.” I continue looking through the paper when she takes it away from me. “Hey,” I whine. “I was reading that.”
“You are allowed to sing, you love to sing, and this won’t be like being in a famous band. It will be easier. Besides, if you don’t like it, just quit.”
I think it over in my head. “Fine, I will apply. They might not like me.”
Naomi starts laughing, sitting down next to me. “Yeah, and I’m a virgin.”
I chuckle.
“They are going to love you.”
“Well, I’ll do it if you’ll be my manager. You never know. I might get more gigs and need someone to talk hardball for me.” I scream when she jumps on me, bouncing up and down.
“I will be a great manager. That will look amazing on my CV. I will call on your behalf now.” She gets the number and calls them and I sit there listening when Naomi gives me a thumbs-up before hanging up.
“They want you to come down now so they can hear you sing. Apparently their main singer got tonsillitis and need someone ASAP.” She pulls me off the couch. “Go get showered and wear something hot but not too hot. You don’t want to give them the wrong impression.”
I laugh, heading to my room. “Yes, sir.” I salute her and she gives me the finger, making me laugh.
I am sitting on a chair on a stage with Naomi and a woman with gray hair tied up in a high bun on the top of her head. From her hoarse voice, you can tell she smokes like a chimney, but she seems friendly enough. She is the owner and the person deciding my fate.
