Broken Fairytales

by Monica Alexander

  I sat up, sighed, and flopped back down against my pillows. My stomached churned at the idea of moving to New York without a safety net and trying to make it in entertainment PR. It was a ridiculous notion, but at the same time, the idea of doing PR for bands or for Broadway or even for night clubs had my adrenaline going. I knew deep down it was what I wanted to do, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever be courageous enough to take that leap.

  Dammit, Rachel was right. And I was going to have to call her later and tell her she was right. Grr. She was always right, and I kind of hated it.

  I’d known Rachel since the first grade when she sat next to me in Ms. Cunningham’s class and passed me a note on the first day asking if I wanted to be her best friend. I’d never had a girl best friend, since my brother Chase and I had been inseparable as kids, so when she asked, I immediately told her yes. I remember taking in her long auburn hair, big blue eyes and stylish clothes and thinking she was the coolest girl I’d ever seen. Of course I wanted to be her friend. I just didn’t know how amazing being her friend would be.

  Ironically, it was our differences that kept us close over the years. Rachel was always stubborn, tough and a bit of a know-it-all. She didn’t put up with anything from anyone and stood up for me more times over the years than I could count. In third grade, when Bobby Fallon made me cry after telling everyone I had cooties and not to talk to me, Rachel cornered him on the playground, strong-armed him into apologizing and then forced him tell the whole class that it was really him who had cooties. Then in seventh grade when Taylor Jansen, my crush for the better part of the year, dumped me after a week of ‘going out’, Rachel told him off on the bus on the way home before protectively putting her arm around me as I cried. And in eleventh grade when Ashleigh Ballast had tried to make-out with Ben at a party, Rachel had threatened to hit her, and she’d backed off.

  Rachel was fearless, confident and didn’t care what anyone thought of her. She was everything I couldn’t be, everything I coveted, and I valued her more than I realized. I never had to stand up for myself, because Rachel was always there to do it for me. If it hadn’t been for her, I probably would have been a huge nerd, but she brought me out of my shell. All my life she’d pushed me to do things that scared me, just like she was pushing me to take a risk and go to New York to pursue my dreams. She’d seldom steered me wrong in the past, but those decisions seemed so insignificant now, and the risks hadn’t been that great. Throwing away my future with Ben and moving to New York with Rachel could be disastrous.

  Of course, it could also be amazing, and I knew that as much as Rachel pushed me, she’d also be there to catch me if I fell, because that was the kind of friend she was. She’d always been there for me. She was with me the first time I got drunk, taking care of me when I was later puking in the bushes of our sorority house and keeping a watchful eye out for our house mother. She was there me when I got into my first car accident, had rushed Gamma Pi with me because I’d wanted to join a sorority, and had even held my hand sophomore year after I’d taken a pregnancy test and had to wait five minutes to learn my fate. Thankfully it had been negative, but I don’t know what I would have done if Rachel hadn’t been there with me, telling me that regardless of what the test said, we’d handle it together. She’d been by my side through almost every significant moment in my life.

  I waited an hour before I called her back, giving her time to cool off.

  “You’re right,” I said as soon as she answered. “I completely need to take more risks.”

  “I’m sorry I hung up on you,” she said, knowing it was better not to acknowledge my apology. She knew I wasn’t ready to talk about my life after graduation, so she was letting it drop. “And I’m sorry I said all of that stuff about you and Ben. That was shitty of me.”

  “Yeah, it was, but it’s fine. I know you meant well. I still love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said.

  We were silent for a few moments, feeling each other out before either of us spoke again.

  “So you really have to leave before Fourth of July?”

  I nodded and said, “Yeah, the parents want us there for the holiday.”

  “Oh,” she said, sounding sad. It made me wonder if something else was going on outside of just me leaving. It wasn’t like Rachel to be upset by that. It wasn’t like we couldn’t exist without each other. “So Chase and Keely are going down at the same time as you?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said, confused by why she’d even be concerned with the whereabouts of my brother and sister.

  My brother, Rachel, and I had been really close as kids, but once we hit high school, we stopped being friends. Chase barely spoke to me now, let alone Rachel, on the few occasions a year that he saw her. Rachel and Keely had never been close. It was strange that she was asking.

  “How about you guys stay until the fifth?” she suggested then.

  “Why?”

  “Sara Rossin’s having a huge Fourth of July blowout, and I want you there,” she said. “Do you think you guys could stay a few more days, so we can squeeze in some time before you jet off for your fabulous summer and leave me here alone?”

  “Are you looking to squeeze in some time with Chase and Keely too?” I asked, severely confused as to why she kept mentioning my siblings.

  “No, I just know how your mom thinks, and I figure she’ll be more likely to say yes if Chase and Keely stay with you.”

  I suddenly understood, and she was right. My mom wouldn’t like me driving the six hours to the beach alone. She was over-protective like that, but she might be more inclined to agree if my siblings were with me.

  “Good logic. I’ll ask her tonight.”

  “Okay, call me later. I have a date, so if it’s going well, I might not answer,” she said dramatically.

  Rachel dated frequently, so this wasn’t a surprise. She was beautiful and guys fell at her feet on a regular basis, but she was picky and never actually dated anyone seriously, so I figured if she had a third date with this guy, I’d ask for details then.

  Over dinner I asked my parents about staying in town through the fourth. I didn’t include my brother and sister in my initial question, since I didn’t want to speak for them, and also because I really didn’t want to have to drive with Chase. Being in a confined space with my brother for six hours wasn’t high on my to-do list. The long and short of it was that we just didn’t get along, and it was better if we just avoided each other altogether

  My mom initially wasn’t thrilled, but then Keely volunteered to stay with me, so I wouldn’t have to be alone, and my mom gave in. I think Keely just wanted to go to Sara’s party, but either way, I liked that I wouldn’t have to drive alone. I liked my sister. She was fun, and I didn’t get to see her nearly as much as I would have liked when I was away at school.

  Then, unfortunately, Chase decided to get in on the action, saying he didn’t want Keely and me to have to drive by ourselves. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, knowing his protective big brother stance was a complete act. I figured he simply wanted to avoid a long car trip with my parents, since I knew he couldn’t indulge in his favorite bad habits with them around.

  Thankfully my mother finally gave in. Now I just had to tell Ben and deal with the whining that would no doubt ensue. Good times.

  Chapter Three

  The Saturday before we left, I was in project mode. I was trying to pack, making piles on my bed of what I wanted take to the beach, concerned that I would forget something important. It was a lot harder to pack for two months than I’d ever thought, and my bed was covered in shorts, tops, dresses, bathing suits and shoes that were all options I was considering bringing. Every few minutes, I would think I was just about done, but then I’d remember something else I couldn’t live without, dig it out of my closet and drop it on my bed before surveying the piles once again. My open suitcases lay on the floor, waiting to be filled.

  I was simultaneously uploading music to my iTunes Library, so my desk was
covered in CDs. I had an insane amount of burned CDs that I’d accumulated over the years and was in the process of finally uploading all of them to my iPod, knowing I’d want my music with me on vacation. Rachel downloaded music on a regular basis and was always giving me CDs of new bands she found. Doing this had long ago sparked in me a passion for music that was almost equal to hers. We relished finding new, undiscovered bands, and going to school in Chapel Hill, with three major universities nearby, we never found ourselves lacking in options.

  Hence the reason behind my desire for a career in entertainment PR.

  Starting to feel overwhelmed with my projects, I decided to take a break. I turned up an OK Go song on my computer and started to dance around my room. Halfway through the song, I felt something hit me in the leg. I turned around and noticed my sister sitting in the armchair in the corner of my room. The copy of InStyle that had been buried under the CDs on my desk now lay at my feet.

  I picked it up and threw it back at her, smiling sarcastically as I did so. She snatched it in mid-air and laid it on the desk, sticking her tongue out playfully in return. I smiled as I reached over and turned down the music, so I could find out what was new my little sister. Her life was so simplistic, and I envied her for it. Maybe if I paid attention, I could learn something from her.

  “So you just throw magazines at people now instead of saying hello like a normal person?” I asked, raising my eyebrows and wondering how her mind worked sometimes.

  She didn’t initially answer me, so I sat down on my bed and appraised her, waiting for her response. Her curly dark hair was pulled into a high ponytail and her long tan legs stretched out in front of her, making me envy her height and her olive skin, both of which I was not blessed with. In fact, if you didn’t know we were related, you wouldn’t be able to tell. Both my sister and brother favor my dad, and I take after my mom, which means instead of being tall and dark, I am short, blond, and fair-skinned.

  In fact, there is such a drastic difference between my siblings and me that often times people think Keely and Chase are the twins and I’m the younger sister. Even though she’s just seventeen, people always assume Keely’s at least twenty-one, and she loves it. She never gets carded, where as I, who have actually been twenty-one for almost a year, get carded all the time.

  “The music was loud. I figured you wouldn’t hear me,” Keely said, nonchalantly, not getting my annoyance or just pretending not to get it, as she opened the magazine and flipped idly through the pages.

  I rolled my eyes at her and shook my head, but she just shrugged.

  Keely has always had a knack for playing dumb. It’s her way of defying our sometimes clueless parents. They have always been under the impression that she’s an airhead when in reality, she gets everything. Being an airhead is just her way of staying out of trouble. She’s gotten away with things I never dreamed of doing when I was her age and living at home.

  As I started to stack some of my piles into one of my suitcases, I saw Keely start to flip through a large stack of CDs that I’d hadn’t yet uploaded. The stack was high, and some of the music, I hadn’t listened to in years.

  “Will you put this in?” she asked, holding up a CD that said, ‘Angry Rock 2006’. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember what was on it.

  She tossed it to me, and I caught it in mid-air between my hands and slid it into my laptop, waiting for the first song to come on.

  “Why aren’t you packing,” I asked her, as she continued to look through the CDs. I knew she would wait until the last minute and throw her clothes into some bags haphazardly, not really knowing what she was packing, and end up pilfering my closet all summer.

  She shrugged, not looking up, but nodding her head in time with an All-American Rejects song I’d listened to more times than I could count.

  “How do you know this song?” I asked, appraising the girl who’s musical tastes were extremely narrow and usually changed with what was in the Top 40.

  “It was on the radio all the time a few years ago.” Her tone was on the mocking side, and I could tell she was excited to be able to converse with me about a subject I usually knew much more about.

  “You know I never listen to the radio,” I said in my defense, and maybe a little snappier than I’d intended. “It’s so repetitive and unoriginal. Just like the people who listen to it.”

  “Ouch,” Keely said, looking up in surprise, her eyebrows rising. “Apparently you’re just as unoriginal if you’re listening to the same music that they play.”

  Ooh, burn, I thought sarcastically, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at her snappy retort, because I realized too late that I was guilty of doing the same thing to her.

  It was exactly what I’d been doing for the past few months, snapping and getting upset at people when they didn’t deserve it. My ‘I’m great, everything’s perfect façade’ was starting to slip farther away, and my true feeling were coming out more often. I was having trouble even keeping up the ruse that I wasn’t irritated with the world, and I never knew when my act would be overtaken by my inner bitch. Just like during my fight with Rachel two weeks earlier, and the two arguments I’d had with Ben since then, the words just seemed to fly out of my mouth, no matter how rude or hurtful. It was extremely disconcerting.

  “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, catching myself too late. “I really wasn’t trying to be a bitch.”

  “It’s cool,” Keely said, looking back down at the CDs and truly seeming unfazed.

  She was laid back enough that most things didn’t affect her for more than a few seconds. It made me little jealous to be honest, and in fact drew the line between me and my siblings even deeper as of late. Where I’d grown up always being a bit more focused, I’d always been able to let things others did roll off my back, but recently it seemed like everything affected me, sometimes to the point of extended frustration that I just couldn’t shake. I longed for the days where I could easily forgive and forget, but it seemed they were long gone.

  “Who’s this band?” Keely asked then, pulling me from my personal pity party. “July for Kings? What does that even mean? Where does Rachel get this stuff?” She looked up at me, as if I would know the answer.

  I shrugged. “Who knows? It’s a good album, though. You can borrow it, if you want.”

  She set the CD on the floor by her feet. “What about Liar’s Edge?” she asked, looking up at me expectantly. “Are they any good?”

  “Liar’s Edge,” I said, crossing the space between us and snatching the CD out of her hands, “is the single most fabulous unsigned band ever.”

  “Ok-ay,” Keely said, looking at me like I was insane. Of course, my voice had spiked about three octaves, and my emotion was palpable, so her look was entirely understandable.

  I looked down at her, my eyes alight with excitement. “This is the most amazing band I have ever heard,” I explained, the passion dripping from my voice as I spoke of my favorite band. “You’ve heard them. I’ve played their stuff in the car before. They have a song called Regret that you loved. Fast beat, hauntingly beautiful lyrics?”

  She shook her head, smirking at my use of the term ‘hauntingly beautiful’. She had no idea what I was talking about.

  So I told her the story of how Rachel and I discovered Liar’s Edge two years earlier. We had gone to a club in Durham to see them play after our high school friend, Chris DeLuca, who was a freshman at Duke, recommended them. We’d gone because we liked live music, but mostly because Rachel had hooked up with Chris when we’d been home for Thanksgiving the weekend before and wanted to see him again before deciding if she wanted to cut him loose or date him.

  Ironically, Rachel had almost immediately decided she wanted to cut Chris loose after she saw the drummer for Liar’s Edge. He was this ridiculously tattooed guy who played without a shirt on the whole set and kept flicking his shoulder length blond hair out of his eyes. I didn’t quite see the allure, but that might have been because I was fixated on the lead sin
ger. He was sexy and smoldering and his voice was hypnotic. I was glued to him the entire show, and it was the only time I’d ever seriously considered cheating on Ben.

  Aside from that, we were blown away by the depth the band had. I swear our mouths were hanging open throughout the whole show. We each bought their CD and then waited around to see if we could talk to them afterward.

  Rachel cornered the drummer at the bar – he had thankfully put a shirt on. I’d followed her and stood quietly while she’d flirted, sipped my beer and simultaneously stole glances at the lead singer across the bar, disappointed to see that he had two very attractive blonds attached to his arm. Of course, I had a boyfriend, so it wasn’t like I was going to act on my feelings of lust, but I could admire him from afar. Which I did until Rachel started making out with Drummer Boy, and I’d decided to call it a night. I went home and listened to their CD over and over until I fell asleep, not able to shake the way the lead singer’s voice made me feel when he belted out lyrics that all seemed to resonate with me just a little too well.

  After that night, partially because Rachel was pissed that she’d gone home with the drummer and he’d never called her, and because I was obsessed with their music, we’d desperately tried to track down Liar’s Edge, wanting to see them live again, but we never made it to a show. When we saw Chris over spring break, he told us they’d just completed a local tour around North Carolina and were taking a break. By the summer, he reported that they’d broken up. Rachel and I had been sad, but we still listened to their album non-stop. It had been awhile since I’d heard it, but suddenly I felt like I needed to hear those songs again. I needed to go back to a time in my life when an album could make me smile or a great band could send me over the edge. It had been a long time since I’d felt that way.