Shape of My Life

by DC Renee

  I might have melted a little just then. Okay, fine, a lot. These kinds of things didn’t happen in real life, but lo and behold, it was happening to me. I must have done something superbly awesome in a previous life to deserve this. Forget that my boyfriend was a hot rock star, which was super cool, but my boyfriend cared about me … in that all-consuming way. If he was like this just out of the ballpark, I wondered what it would be like if we ever got to the love part. Wow, I actually fanned myself just thinking about it.

  The girl next to me probably thought I was going through early menopause or something since it was freezing on the plane, but Grennan had warmed me up. Even with just words, he heated my very soul. Shit. Damn. Shit. Damn. I think I was already in love. No … it was lust. It was too soon for love. I was logical and reasonable, and that meant passionate affection, maybe adoration with a hint of fascination, but love? Nope, no way … yeah … I was lying to myself. It was early stages of love. Sorry, heart. You’re screwed.

  Brooklyn

  We texted, we skyped, we talked for hours on the phone while Grennan was in New York and I was back home. I felt like one of those kids who talked to their boyfriend under the covers late at night so their parents wouldn’t know. Except my parents knew, and I was an adult, yet I still talked to Grennan late into the night under the covers and was tired every day.

  Then he showed up, and all was right in the world. We spent a few glorious days together, and then he left and my sad face returned. But then I visited him in New York the following week. And that was how it went on for a few months. The good news was that Grennan had gotten me to like New York, so I guess his streak was back on

  “What do you mean you don’t like New York?” he asked on my second trip when it somehow slipped past my lips that I liked my little town more. “But I’m in New York,” he whined. Grennan was confident, smart, very talented, and generally got his way in that don’t bother to argue with me way, yet on those rare times when things didn’t pan out like he thought they would, he turned into a petulant child and practically stomped his foot.

  “We’re not arguing the fact that I like you.” I stifled a laugh. “I’m in New York because of you. It’s just that … well … I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re not around. I don’t know this city, and this isn’t my home.”

  “Okay, first off, consider my place yours. And second, I told you that you were going to like New York, and it’s happening.”

  He took the next few days off and spent the entire time showing me everything and anything to do in New York, and boy, was there a lot to do. He gave me tips and taught me tricks on how to get around; he gave me a list of places he thought I’d find interesting, which I did, and then he pointed me toward the best places to shop. I was hooked. He actually tried to get me to use his credit card. I didn’t bother stifling a laugh then.

  “Grennan, I know we live in a small town and own a shop that doesn’t bring in a ton of business, but I have money. Well, my parents do, but what’s theirs is mine and vice versa. We live the way we do because we choose to. I got this.” I winked and slapped his butt before taking off. The deer-in-headlights look he was sporting was so worth my little sass.

  “So you love New York now, huh?” Grennan asked as he chuckled when I walked into his place carrying so many shopping bags you’d think I’d topple over. Growing up, Cassidy was the fashion goddess, which was why her line of work was so appropriate, but she’d taught me much over the years, so I was confident in my purchases. Okay, so I might have sent her a picture or two … or fifty of potential buys, but who was counting? It was not as if she responded with things like, “Buy that, and you lose my friendship,” or “I’m coming to New York to make sure that’s among your purchases.” Yeah, okay, so I loved to shop, but I still needed Cassidy’s approval. Hey, it worked.

  “Yeah, I guess I do.” I smiled at Grennan as he grabbed some bags from my arms.

  “Good, because a girl named Brooklyn can’t not love New York.”

  “Oh my God, you’re such a dork.” But I was really the dork because I had thought of that already, and literally laughed out loud when it crossed my mind, and I wasn’t alone either when that happened. I had been in the middle of a store. The three girls and one guy in close vicinity looked at me like I was crazy. I wrote a little mental note to myself then—don’t laugh out loud in public.

  “Speaking of which,” I started after we finished laughing and set my bags aside. “Why do you call me Brooklyn? Everyone else calls me Brook.”

  “That’s exactly why I don’t.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “I don’t want to be like everyone else.”

  “You’re not, but it’s the people I care about and vice versa who call me Brook. It’s an endearment.”

  “Okay, let me put it to you this way. You’re one hundred percent comfortable with your family, with your friends, right?” I nodded. “But I can physically feel your insecurities, your fears with me, and I don’t know why. You are so beautiful and amazing, and you don’t see that. If I were to call you Brook, it’s saying that you’re only half of what you are, and you’re so much more than you know.”

  I wanted to literally break off a piece of my heart and force it inside Grennan’s body at that moment because that was what it felt like he did. He knew what to say to capture pieces of my heart, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with the whole thing wrapped up inside his own.

  “So you’re never going to call me Brook? I’ll always be Brooklyn to you?” I asked.

  “When you’re one hundred percent certain of me and what you mean to me, I’ll call you Brook.”

  “Grennan Larter, you have a way with words that should be illegal.”

  “As long as you’re my jailer, I don’t care.”

  Needless to say, I showed him what it meant to be captured by me, handcuffs included.

  “Things are getting serious,” my dad stated one night at dinner while I was home and Grennan was in New York.

  “I guess you could say that.”

  “And how are things going to continue between you two?” my mom asked.

  “Same as they are now, I suppose. He’ll fly here when he can, and I’ll go there when he can’t.”

  “We like him, we really do,” my mom started, and I grimaced. I was wondering when they’d have the be careful talk, and here it was. “We just honestly didn’t see this relationship continuing for so long.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “Well, for one thing, you live miles apart,” my dad said. “And he’s a musician. They have crazy schedules, and when he’s on tour, good luck seeing him. And his label will probably start making him go to press conferences and tours, interviews, the whole shebang. I mean, they have downtime, sure, which is why you can have the relationship you have now, but it will get hard to handle, Brook.” My dad spoke as if he had personal experience; not that what he said didn’t seem plausible, but I still didn’t like hearing it.

  “So what? You’re saying he’s not going to have time for me?”

  “No, honey, that boy will tear through the galaxy and stop time for you,” my mom reassured. “But what kind of life is that for you? Won’t you get tired of it? Think about it, Brook. If you visit him on tour, you’ll be moving from city to city without room to breathe. And the fans. I know you’ve been lucky so far, but they can and do get crazy. They’ll swarm him, and if you’re there, you could get hit by the crossfire. Don’t forget the huge crowds, the hundreds of people that will stare directly at you if they get wind that you’re the girlfriend of the lead singer.”

  “I thought Grennan had already appeased all your fears.” My tone was a mix of hope and concern. And it wasn’t necessarily concern that my parents would somehow put a stop to my relationship because they’d never do that, but it was worry they were right. Something about their words sparked a real dread inside me. It was like when you get butterflies in your stomach, b
ut you’re unsure why you’re nervous. That was me.

  “He tried, he really did,” my dad assured me. “And we know he truly means well, and he’ll do his best to keep you safe from all the craziness, but there are no guarantees in this world, in his life. We’re worried, Brook, and we want you to consider all this because once you step over a certain line, there’s no going back. For now, you’re Brooklyn Cooper, but once the world knows you’re dating Grennan, you won’t be your own person anymore. You’ll be the girlfriend of a lead singer. You don’t want that life, Brook. I know you don’t.”

  “I don’t know that I don’t want that!” I cried out, but deep down, I knew it was true. I didn’t want stardom or fame or anything that came with dating a famous person. I could barely handle being the center of attention at my own birthday. How would I handle this? And then it came to me. “But I want Grennan, and as long as he wants me, then I’ll handle everything thrown at me with him by my side.”

  Both my parents hung their heads in defeat before my mom looked up. “You really care about him?”

  “I do. I’m … I’m falling for him,” I admitted out loud for the first time.

  My dad looked at me as if he expected me to say that and just nodded. My mom wiped a single tear from her eye. I wasn’t sure why it affected her so much. Did she feel like she was losing me? I’d forever be her baby girl. I just found a guy I saw myself sharing a life with, crazy or not, and everyone should accept that.

  “Just be careful, honey. Please, just be careful. Not just with your heart, Brook, but with your life.” The way my mom said it, with a mixture of pleading and sternness, I knew it was a plea from the heart, and I couldn’t help but nod.

  “I will, Mom, I promise.”

  She smiled a tight smile and changed the subject, and for the rest of the evening, we all forgot about the tension of that conversation.

  After I had spent way too long talking to Grennan on the phone, I made my way to the kitchen, but the choked sobs I heard coming from my parents’ room stopped me in my tracks.

  “She’s going to be fine, Amber,” my dad told my mom.

  “But if things continue, she’s going to be in the limelight.” My mom’s tears became muffled, and I assumed my dad was hugging her. “I’m so scared. What if—” she started, but my dad cut her off.

  “It’s not the same thing. And we know how to handle things.” I was torn between staying and listening to more and giving them their privacy. Giving them privacy won out and I moved toward my room, the snippets of their conversation haunting me as I tried to fall asleep. But as I drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Grennan replaced any confusion or worry I felt about what I’d overheard between my parents. I couldn’t be sure of what the future held, but if Grennan wanted me along for the ride, then I was ready to buckle up.

  Grennan

  “Have you always loved music?” Brook asked me one day when we were at my place. Had I? I knew I had a good voice. I knew this because my parents were the kind who told me the truth. “Your hair looks bad like that.” “Don’t wear that shirt, honey, it’s too small.” Things like that. They weren’t mean about it. They just wanted me to be my best always and didn’t want to see me hurt by other kids making fun of me. Try as they might, though, some things were out of their control. So when my mom told me, “I love your voice, Gren,” or when my dad would say, “I had a bad day at work, Gren, sing something for me,” I knew I had some chops. I had learned over the years that my voice was raspy, throaty even, but girls seemed to love it, and guys seemed to envy it. Did I like music, though? Sure, as much as anyone did. But I hadn’t gotten into it, hadn’t gotten that drive, until high school when I met her. But that was long ago.

  “I guess you could say that,” I told Brook honestly but somewhat cryptically. Not that I was trying to hide anything, that was just how it came out.

  “So you always knew you wanted to be the lead singer of a famous band?” she teased.

  “Nah, I had a career planned as an engineer.”

  “Smart, eh?”

  “I spent a lot of my time studying when I was growing up.” Brooklyn and I had talked about our childhoods, but it was more about specific memories until then. I hadn’t told her what I was like exactly. All she knew was the guy standing before her, but I hadn’t always been the cocky son-of-a-bitch I was now. She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to continue, so I did. “I didn’t always look like this.” I knew I was good looking now. Did that make me egotistical? Who cared? I knew I was blessed, and since it hadn’t always been that way, I would not pretend I didn’t know I was on that side of the hot-or-not spectrum.

  “Were you hotter?” She laughed.

  “Let’s just say I was a few pounds heavier,” I admitted.

  “You were chubby?” she asked incredulously.

  “Chubby, I like that. We’ll go with chubby instead of fat.” I smirked. “And I had horrible acne. I wasn’t exactly what most girls wanted.”

  “Aw, poor Grennan,” she mocked. “I’m sure you made up for that tenfold after, though.” The laughter in her eyes was enough for me to know she wasn’t upset. I laughed as she smiled. “But what does that have to do with your band?”

  “I needed a class in high school, and I figured since I could sing, I should be able to play an instrument. I got into class and realized I was pretty much the only one there who couldn’t play anything. Most people had been taking lessons all their lives. Piano, trumpet, violin, you name it. A couple of people played guitar, and I thought that would be pretty cool and easy. It wasn’t.” I paused, remembering that time in my life, and sighed before I continued. “I sucked, but I had to practice to stay in the class. One day, I was outside and was strumming some chords—badly, I might add—and singing along. Some guys came by and starting making fun of me. That wasn’t an unusual occurrence. I was bullied a lot for my weight and my face. This time, they were saying things like, ‘Look, crater face thinks he can stop being a loser if he plays the guitar. You suck, loser. No one will ever like you because you’re fat and ugly.’” I remembered their taunts because even though I was over them now, they had hurt at the time.

  “I’m so sorry, Grennan. Kids can be really mean, but that’s horrible.” I didn’t want her pity. It was what it was, so I shrugged and continued.

  “They were taunting me for a while, but I knew if I kept my mouth shut, they’d get tired and leave. Then, all of a sudden, Jourdan was standing next to me. She was a grade older than I was, and the most popular girl in school. She was beautiful, not a bitch, and had her own band. Every girl wanted to be her friend, and every guy wanted to fuck her. I’d never talked to her before that, but when I looked up at her, she smiled and said, ‘You have a killer voice. Your playing could use some work, but keep practicing and you’ll get it. Here, scoot over.’ I was dumbfounded and didn’t even register that I had made room for her to sit next to me. ‘Hey guys, let me know how this sounds, yeah?’ she asked the guys who had been bullying me just moments before she arrived. They had quickly shut up and were nodding their heads like bobbleheads then. She took the guitar from me and started strumming the song I had been butchering. When it was time to sing, she stopped, nudged me with her elbow, and told me to sing. I don’t know how I did it, but I sang while she played.” I let the memory wash over me. That had been the best day of my life, my turning point.

  “What song did you guys sing?” Brook asked me, snapping me back to the present. I had gotten lost in the past, not even realizing I was telling her a story because I was reliving it.

  “Not sure if you’d know them, but it was I Alone by Live.”

  “Not ringing any bells,” she told me. They were a big rock band in the nineties, but not everyone knew them, kind of like my band. “So then what happened?”

  “After we finished the song, she turned to me and said, ‘Thanks, that was fun.’ She leaned in, gave me a hug, and whispered, ‘If they give you any more trouble, let me know.’ Then she walked awa
y. The guys looked at me like I had just shitted gold, and then they walked away with their tails tucked between their legs.”

  “She sounds really awesome,” Brook responded.

  “She was, and that was when my overblown crush on her started. We didn’t really talk much after that. I still got picked on, but not nearly as much, but I wanted to impress her. I went to a dermatologist for my skin, started working out like crazy, and practiced guitar for hours every day. By then, she had graduated, and I started to love playing the guitar, not just for her, but also for me. When I got to college, I got a band together, and the rest is history.”

  “What happened to Jourdan?”

  “Her band was picked up when I was still in high school. She left college and became famous.”

  “Wait, are you talking about the Jourdan?” I wasn’t surprised Brook had heard of her. She had been one of the most famous singers.

  “Yep, that’s the one.”

  “Wow. Was there something in the water where you were growing up?” We both laughed. “You never saw her again?”

  “My band was actually going to open for her, but then …” I trailed off. My crush had actually been intense for Jourdan. When girls started eyeing me, I knew I had a chance with her, but she had become Jourdan of The Jourdans. The only way I would get a chance with her was to become famous myself. That was why I had started a band and spent every waking moment figuring out how to make a name for ourselves. Don’t get me wrong, I loved music. I loved my life. And I didn’t pine for her. I was making up for lost time with partying and ladies and everything else. But I would have loved to get to know Jourdan better. I was going to ask her out after our first performance. I never got that chance.

  I wasn’t going to give Brook all those specifics, though.

  She died over three years ago at the peak of her career. It was tragic, and everyone mourned her.