by Clara Bayard
“Of course. Don’t cry, kiddo. I’m going to be fine.”
I nodded, but looking at the bruises that peeked out from the top of her hospital gown, and all the tubed going into her, I knew it was a lie. “I’m sorry, Jess.”
“Hey, don’t be. You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”
“This is my fault.”
“It isn’t. Jules, it was an accident.”
“But you shouldn’t have been there. If I’d just done my work I would have been done shooting and we would have left together. You wouldn’t have been on that highway at all.”
“Hush.” She patted my hand. “Come up here and hug me.”
I put my legs up and rolled carefully, slipping into the bed next to her. I wrapped one arm around her and buried my face in her neck, making sure not to dislodge anything. It was incredibly uncomfortable, but I didn’t care.
Jessica tugged lightly on my ponytail and kissed my temple. “You’re my best girl, you know that, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And what does that mean?”
“It means we’re sisters. In our hearts, where it matters.”
“That’s right.”
I knew it was selfish to worry about myself, but I couldn’t help it. “Jess, I’m scared.”
“Don’t be. Once I get a little better they’ll move me to a nicer room and then before you know it I’ll be going home. And then back to work. And then all of this will just be a funny story we tell.”
“Promise?”
She was silent for a long moment before replying. “I promise.”
“And you always keep your promises.”
“That’s right, I do. So there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”
“I guess not,” I whispered. “I love you, Jess.”
“Love you more, Jules.”
I fell asleep right there in the hospital bed with her. At some point later someone came and carried me to a chair and covered me with a blanket. For whatever reason, they let me stay with her. Except for when the doctors were testing and prodding, I was right by her side. We shared the tiniest bits of the food they brought, watched bad television and read old magazines.
My mother came by occasionally, but she never stayed longer than a few minutes. Which was just fine with me. I wanted every selfish minute with Jessica alone.
She told me about her childhood, how she’d left home at sixteen, left her five brothers and sisters. They never forgave her. Someone from the show had contact her family, but no one showed up. Not in time, at least.
Those three days were so strange. I didn’t think about the show or whatever cute boy I had a crush on. I never even noticed how uncomfortable it was to sleep in a chair. All that mattered was Jessica.
On the last morning I came out of the bathroom and she was sitting up. Well, the bed was tilted up. Her skin was so pale and paper thin after all the “procedures” she’d endured. We joked about her being ready for a career in front of the camera now, skinny and pale and weak and covered in bruises from needles. No one else would have laughed. We both knew it wasn’t funny, but we did laugh. Even in her weakened state I loved her laugh. Loud and braying. I thought it was obnoxious at first, but came to think it was adorable.
I was just standing there watching her for the longest time.
“What are you thinking about?” Jessica asked.
“Don’t you know?”
She smiled. “Of course. I always know what you’re thinking. But this time I want you to tell me.”
I licked my lips and tucked my hair behind my ear. “I was thinking that when you get out of here you could come stay with me.”
“Yeah?”
“Sure. It would be fun. If you need medical stuff we can hire a nurse. Kick my mom and the latest fake-dad off the second floor and just have it all for us. I can help you answer calls and stuff, or make copies of things.”
Jessica laughed. “I don’t really make copies of things very often.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what happens in offices. On the show it’s all phone calls and photocopies.”
She blinked slowly. “I hope you never have to learn what really happens in offices.”
“Why?”
“Because you’d hate it. And no matter what, life’s too short to do things you hate.”
“I hate running lines.”
“No you don’t. You’re just lazy sometimes.”
“Hey!” I pretended to be offended, but I smiled and sat down next to the bed, taking her soft, pale hand in mine.
“I’m serious, thought, Jules. You fight for what you want. Never give up. You’re talented and beautiful and if you try hard enough you’ll always be able to have a life doing what you love.”
“Singing? You don’t think I’ll spend my whole life being ‘that girl from King of Hearts?’”
“Not a chance. When you grow up you’ll be a huge star. I can just see it. Selling out concerts around the world. Flying around in a private plane with your face on the side.”
I giggled. “Ew, no. I’ll put your face on it.”
“Even better.” She closed her eyes and squeezed my hand.
“Are you tired? In pain?”
“Both, constantly.”
I blinked away tears. I loved that Jessica always told me the truth, never treated me like I was too young to handle things. But in that moment, I wanted lies. Needed them. Because in the back of my mind I knew it might be the last time I talked to her. Saw her. Knew that she wasn’t getting better.
“Well, then, you should rest. Because we can’t stay here forever. The whole show will fall down without us.”
“That’s right. We’re the dynamic duo, kiddo.”
“And always will be, right?”
“You know it. You and me.”
I clung to those short words with everything I had. The woman who gave birth to me had never cared this much. Had never made me feel so loved and protected. I couldn’t imagine living without Jessica. I started crying again. Because for all her promising and my naiveté, I knew goodbye when I heard it. And before it got dark that night, she was gone and I was alone again. Maybe forever.
Back in the present, I cried too. Wiping at my eyes, I glowered at the door. Someone was knocking. “Do not disturb!”
“Julia? It’s Becca.”
Well, shit.
I blotted my face with the hem of my shirt and went over to let her in. “What is it?”
“I tried to call you but…are you okay?”
“Fine.”
She walked into the room and shut the door behind her. “You’re not fine. If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, that’s okay. But don’t lie.”
My first instinct was to snap at her, but I controlled it. “Okay.”
“So? Do you want to tell me?”
“I…I was just working on a song. It’s an emotional one.”
“Ah, okay. I can understand that. What song?”
“It’s called ‘The Last Time,’”
“Oh yeah, I heard it. Beautiful. But very sad.”
Looking out the window past her, I could smell that hospital room again. “It’s about someone who was very important to me. My friend, but closer. Like a sister. Or a mother, really. But she was too young.”
Becca walked over, but she didn’t touch me. “She died?”
I nodded. “Car accident. Three days in the hospital. Internal bleeding. She was only twenty-three.”
“I’m so sorry. It’s hard to watch someone you care about in pain and not be able to help.”
“Yeah. She told me to be myself. To always be true to me and that I’d never steer wrong if I did. It took a long time to figure out how, but I have. This is where I want to be. This is where I belong.” I didn’t realize I’d been speaking out loud until Becca replied.
“Sounds like a wonderful friend.”
“She was.”
“I bet she’d be really proud of you today.”
&nbs
p; “I hope so.”
I looked at her again and saw something unexpected. Some pity, of course. But something else, too. Understanding. Like she saw the dark places inside me and recognized them. There was a lot more to Becca than I knew. And maybe…just maybe, this was a chance to let someone else in for the first time in a long time.
But then I remembered the day before. What she’d seen.
“Well.” I cleared my throat. “You didn’t come up here to walk down memory lane with me. What’s up?”
She shrugged off the heavy moment and nodded. “Right. Of course. I just got word from the hotel that our power problems should be over. My boss, Ryan, wants everyone downstairs in thirty so we can adjust the schedule after losing almost a whole day of rehearsals. The next few days are booked solid with other things, so it’s going to be tight.”
“Sure, okay. I’ll be there.”
“Good. Um…look. Do you want to grab a drink later, or maybe some dinner? If you don’t have plans.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t.” Both lies.
“Oh, okay. Well, sure. Another time, maybe.”
“Uh-huh.”
Becca crossed her arms and licked her lips. “All right. I’ll, uh, see you down there I guess.”
“Yeah.”
After she left I went over to the window and looked out. Just watched the city go by far below. I wondered about the lives of the people rushing back and forth. Wondered if they ever felt as lonely as me.
Then I slapped my hand on the glass and cursed myself. “Stop being such a fucking whiner. You’ve got everything you ever wanted within your grasp and you’re moping? Enough. Get changed. Go to work.”
Couldn’t argue with that, so that’s exactly what I did.
FIVE
I went downstairs and pretended I was onstage. In costume and playing the part of a confident rocker, ready to take on the world.
Straight-leg jeans that were my alternate version of trendy skinny ones that make me look like a sausage. High heeled boots. Leather tank that zips down the front with the perfect amount of cleavage on display. Hair loose and wild, makeup subtle except for a bright red lip.
I wasn’t even sure what “swanning” into a room was, but I did it. Walked into the theater like I hadn’t spent the last twelve hours in misery. I nodded at everyone as I went down the aisle and hopped onto the steps for the “meeting” that was actually the suits and our respective management teams huddled together with phones and papers and laptops and tablets while the members of Dream Defiled and I sat by, waiting to be told where to go and when.
No one seemed to notice that I made a point of keeping everyone between me and Rick. And that I was careful to never even glance in his direction.
After a few minutes, the quiet one…Matthew, it took me a while to remember, came over and squatted in front of me. His long dark hair hung over his shoulders and he smiled.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” I replied, somewhat surprised. “What’s up?”
“I…um…your song, ‘Up to Me’ I think?”
“What about it?”
“It’s really great. I love the bridge. I was thinking…maybe if they,” he gestured at the gaggle currently planning our lives,” if they okay it, I could maybe play it with you.”
My mouth dropped open. “Really?”
He fidgeted, rocking back onto his heels. “Yeah. I was messing around with it the other day and I have some ideas. We could just rehearse it. See what happens?”
“I think that’s a great idea. Wow, thank you, Matt. Is it Matt or Matthew.”
He blushed. Actually blushed. “Whichever.”
I’m not going to lie. It was charming as hell. “All right. Matthew. Once we get our marching orders we can set something up.”
“Okay.”
I grinned broadly and happened to look over where the other guys were standing. Rick was staring daggers at me. I glared right back for a second but then I noticed his tongue just barely peeking out from between his lips and memories flooded back and I had to look away.
Fortunately, the meeting ended and everyone came up to join us.
A woman I didn’t recognize stepped forward. She was tall and thin with ombre hair that I could tell was extensions. Expensive ones, but still. She had on a really tight skirt suit, like that show my mom used to watch when I was a kid. The one with the lawyer who wore miniskirts all the time.
“Hey gang,” she said, smiling. “I’m Christine. The label has hired me to handle all the on-site publicity for this tour and I couldn’t be more jazzed about it.”
I hated her immediately.
“Now, I know you’re all excited to practice your songs and whatever, but I’ve lined up something really amazing for you today, so it’ll have to wait.”
Joe, who’d been typing into his phone the whole time, spoke up. “What is it?”
“A candid photo shoot. We’ll have all of you backstage just hanging out and take some pictures.”
“Posed ones?”
“Yes.” She swiped the back of her thumb under her lower lip, checking for smeared lipstick.
“So not actually candid, then.”
She tittered instead of laughed. “Got me there, Joe. Yes, you’ll be posed. But casual. Basically wearing what you are now. Just being yourselves. Getting to know each other.”
“Fine.”
Dex raised his hand, eliciting chuckles from the rest of us. “If we’re getting to know each other, couldn’t we do it in a bar or a restaurant? Somewhere a little more fun than backstage here.”
“Maybe next time. For now we’ve already got lights rigged and the photographer is back setting up props.”
I rolled my eyes. This was not part of the business I’d missed. Plus, a photo shoot meant I’d be stuck in the same room with Rick, who was still looking at me. “Let’s get this over with.”
Christine beamed at me. “Great. Why don’t we go back first and I’ll take you to makeup.”
Half an hour later I was almost ready. My hair was fluffed and sprayed. Makeup caked on. All that remained was the inevitable argument about my clothes. The wardrobe person had a dress she wanted me to change into, but I refused.
“It’s too little girl romantic,” I said, looking balefully at the gauzy pink monstrosity she was holding. “That’s not the look I’m going for here.”
“But it’s lovely. And designer. That wasn’t easy to find in your size.” She whispered the last part as if anyone in the room didn’t know I wasn’t a sample size.
“Yes, very pretty. I’m not wearing it.” I crossed my arms and stared evenly at her.
“Well…I see.” She hung the dress back up and rifled through the rack for a bit. “How about something like this?” She held up a long-sleeve blouse in a deep purple color. It was in another flimsy fabric and had – I almost shuddered just looking at it – puffy sleeves.
“No. Hell no.”
“Fine.” She put that back too and then turned to face me. “Look, why don’t you just tell me what you like to wear and I’ll see if we have anything that might work.”
I gestured down at my body. “What’s wrong with this?”
She looked me up and down a few times slowly. “It’s not terrible.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Gosh, thanks.”
I heard stifled laughs and noticed all the members of Dream Defiled were also getting wardrobe consultations, but without the torture I was going through.
“Mmm. The jeans and shoes are good, I think. But the top needs to go.”
“Why?” I asked.
She leaned in close before answering. “Well, as a…uh…woman of size, you probably want to cover your arms, don’t you think?”
My eyes closed to slits. “Why? Do you have some kind of magical sleeves that will make my arms thinner?”
She laughed uncomfortably. “No, of course not. But we can give the illusion…”
“No.”
She paled. “I mean no disres
pect.”
“I understand. Here’s the thing. I’m a little fat. Long-sleeve shirts and poofy dresses won’t change that. This is my body. I happen to think it looks pretty good most of the time. But only when I don’t pretend it’s something it isn’t. Okay?”
“I…uh…sure…” she stammered. “Whatever you think is best.” She looked terrified.
“Shit.” I hadn’t meant to upset her; I knew she was just doing her job. “Do you have a belt or something that might fit? And some bracelets? Silver bangles or something.”
A look of relief and appreciation spread across her face, smoothing out her worried brow. “Absolutely. I’ve got a big case full of accessories. I’ll grab them and be back in a second.”
“Great. Thank you.”
She scurried off and I took a deep breath.
Joe, now clad in a very tight t-shirt that showed off the intricate hawk tattoo on his shoulder, walked over to me, smiling. “You handled that really well.”
“Thanks.” I poked at the rack of clothes just to have something to do with my hands. “I’ve gotten used to it the past few months.”
“Must get tiresome.”
“Yeah, but I know the deal. The world loved my looks a lot more when I was an underweight pre-teen. I could wear all the hottest fashions. Now I don’t have to worry about that. I just wear what I like.”
“My girlfriend would kill me for saying this, but I think you look smoking hot just as you are.”
We both laughed.
“I won’t tell on you, I promise.”
“Thanks,” he said, patting me on the arm. “She’s a fan of yours and I’d hate to change that.”
I laughed again and turned to face him. Over his shoulder I saw Rick glowering as he pulled a sleeveless shirt over his head.
Temporarily distracted by the sight of his wide, muscular chest, I was rendered speechless. He was beautiful. Lightly tanned skin covered a massive expanse of muscles that flexed as he dressed. I didn’t actually drool, but it was close. My heart started pounding and beads of sweat formed on the back of my neck.
But then he stalked over to us, snapping me out of my moment of horn-dog pleasure.
