by Jess Bentley
19
After landing, Rory sat in a coffee shop close to LAX airport. All the worrying had strangely famished her and she wanted to carb up before she ran around town trying to figure out where Lizzy was.
She thought about going to her parents’ house first, but she wanted to avoid that meeting for as long as she could. Besides, her number one priority was Lizzy. She had called the phone number that was on the card that Don had given to her in Montcove but it was switched off. Given the fact that the man carried a bunch of cellphones, she figured that it was a number that he’d only used only on the island. He probably doesn’t even have it anymore.
In any case, it did not take Rory long to find out the number to the band’s office from their official website. The phone went on hold after four rings and a voice message started playing. A voice message from Mickey telling all callers to follow him on Instagram. What a shallow guy, Rory thought.
A suave-sounding woman answered after a few moments.
“Sorry for putting you on hold. How can I help you?”
“Hi. I am a friend of Don’s and…” Suddenly, Rory was lost for words. What should I say? I am trying to find a naive young girl who is infatuated with Mickey Nicks?
“And?” the voice on the other end of the phone said in an impatient tone.
“I am looking for a way to get in touch with him.”
“And this would be regarding…?” It was all business.
“It’s a matter of a personal nature,” Rory replied.
“I need more information than that,” the woman on the phone demanded. Rory paused to think over her words.
“This is regarding their stay in Montcove.” Rory hoped that if she mentioned that, then the woman would be satisfied.
“And what about it? Are you a vendor who wants to submit an invoice?” the woman asked.
“Yes,” she lied. “It’s something like that.”
“Okay, ma’am. I need more details before I pass you on. What was the nature of the service you provided?”
I sheltered his damn guitar player and stopped a media scandal.
“I’d rather speak to Don about it.”
“Again, ma’am. I need more details about what you want.” The woman on the phone was irritated and Rory could sense that.
“I need to ask Don… about locating someone. A friend of mine is with him—I mean, with the band. Er…” Rory was fumbling her words.
“Okay. First, you claim to be his friend then you claim to be a vendor and now you want to find someone. Exactly what is going on here?”
“I told you, it’s a matter of a rather personal nature,” Rory replied, half-pleading.
“And I’m sure that you are nothing but a fan who either wants free tickets or just wants to meet the band. It’s not like this is the first time we have received a call like this,” the woman snapped.
“No, it’s nothing like that!”
“We’re very busy. Please stop wasting our time.”
Before Rory could say anything else the woman had hung up.
Goddammit!
Rory knew that LA could be a ruthless town, but this level of crudeness?
In my town, they pretend to be my friend. When they need me to save their ass from the cops, they act nice. Now that I need their help, they’ve gone AWOL. Typical LA.
Trusting any of them had been a mistake. Even Arsen or Don, the only two guys who had seemed respectful and genuine. How wrong I was. These people treat others as objects to be used. Rory was furious and wanted to smack someone.
Her biggest worry was Mickey Nicks. With every minute that passed by, the thoughts in her head about him leading Lizzy down a dark path worsened. A naive, impressionable girl like Lizzy could be talked into doing almost anything, and Mickey was the guy who would do just that, if only for his own amusement.
All he cares about is how cool people think he is and how many damn Instagram followers he has. Rory wanted to punch a wall, break things, and yell at the world to stop being so upside down. She wanted to slap Lizzy for being so stupid.
Wait… Instagram. A thought came into her head as she quickly opened the Instagram app on her phone and searched for Mickey’s username. Didn’t take her long to find that, and much to her relief she found just what she was looking for.
The last two posts had been made within the last half hour. Selfies of Mickey in some club, surrounded by loads of liquor and people. Does this guy do anything else but party? she wondered. More importantly, as he had uploaded the pictures, he had also tagged his location. Probably for the benefit of the paparazzi, considering how badly he craves media attention.
Finally, out of nowhere, she had a lead. If she was going to find Lizzy, then this was her best shot. She saved the location to her Google Maps and booked an Uber. Her main priority was to get to Lizzy as soon as possible. Everything else could just wait. As the Uber pulled up, she threw her luggage in the back and told the driver to hurry up. This for her was truly a matter of life and death.
Oh, Lizzy, my dearest Lizzy. I hope you are okay.
20
A big crowd was waiting outside the club as she walked to the entrance. A bunch of them were people who were waiting to get in, while most were fans, wanting to get a glimpse of their favorite celebrities and of course, there were the dreaded paparazzi.
“Can I help you?” A large African-American man stepped in front of her as she tried to cut the line and enter the club. In her obsession with finding Lizzy she had forgotten that this was LA, and one simply does not walk into a club.
“My friends are in there,” she said, trying the oldest trick in the book.
“Oh really? What are their names?” The man picked up a list. What’s the point in lying? she concluded.
“Mickey Nicks and Insurrection,” she replied, mustering up all the confidence she could.
The man smiled then let out a little laugh, looking her up and down.
“You’re ‘friends’ with Mickey?”
Rory didn’t like the way he said friends, because she knew what that meant.
“Yes, he’s my friend.”
“I don’t think so, lady. I’ve seen Mickey come here with a lot of his women ‘friends’ and you ain’t his type,” he smirked.
“I’m not that kind of a friend.”
“Oh, none of them are.” He crossed his arms and a frown came onto his face like he had heard this line a hundred times before.
“Look I really need to get in there. Can you please cut me some slack?”
“And so do all of these people.” He nodded at the line behind her. “If you want to get in, then I suggest you wait in the line like the rest of them.”
“Look, it’s a very urgent matter. Mickey would be very unhappy if he knew that you didn’t let me in,” she lied.
“I’ll risk that.” He grinned. Clearly, he knew Mickey personally and had probably guessed that she was lying.
“Would you risk the twenty bucks that you would get if you let me in?” she tried to put on a smile and as soon as she said it, she knew that it wouldn't work. She wasn’t one of those people who could smoothly slide in a twenty and get people to do her bidding.
The man grunted and pointed to the back of the line. There was nothing Rory could do. Her Uber was still waiting, her luggage was in there, and the driver was probably irritated at her. Might as well pay him off and set him free.
As she walked toward the Uber, a bunch of cars drove up to the front. A big limo and a couple of vintage muscle cars, although no one got out of them once they were parked. A commotion followed their arrival as she realized that a bunch of people were exiting the club.
The paparazzi and the fans rushed to the barricades that could barely contain them. The people waiting in line immediately pulled out their phones to make videos and take pictures. Big burly security guys appeared out of nowhere and surrounded the group that was leaving the club.
In that big crowd of people, Rory saw the blond-haired
head of Mickey Nicks. Right next to him was Lizzy, along with a couple of other girls who looked like typical LA models. Rory ran back, shouting Lizzy’s name. There was a big crowd that she had to get through and she wasted no time in making her way through them.
The crowd pushed her back and Rory realized that the task was much more difficult than she had thought.
Instead of shouting Lizzy’s name, she started pleading with the paparazzi to give way, but this was their livelihood and they were in no mood to lose their prime spots. A couple of them did let her have an inch to place her foot, but most were too busy taking shots of the celebrities leaving the club to even hear her.
Rory saw Lizzy enter the limo. The short dress she was wearing might as well not be there at all. It was barely hiding anything. Rory couldn’t get in Lizzy’s line of sight, but she could tell that the young girl was heavily intoxicated.
“Lizzy!” Rory shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the sounds of the crowd and the clicking of cameras. Just then Mickey turned around to flash a peace sign at the paparazzi and Rory was sure that he saw her in the crowd. Their eyes met, but there was no sign of recognition on his face. Either he saw through her or he simply did not remember her.
Rory elbowed a plump paparazzo in the side and managed to get a bit ahead. She could now see a little more of what was going on. The paparazzi got rowdier and more vocal as a tall blonde in a stunning dress exited the club. Rory’s breath got stuck in her throat.
Tanya Cox. Rory’s lips pursed tightly. Forget the sight, just the name of that woman was enough to send Rory into a frenzy. It took a second for Rory to realize that she was trapped in the middle of the crowd as more fans had come up behind her at the sight of Tanya Cox. Their excitement was through the roof.
All of them wanted a glimpse of her and they had their cellphones out, trying to take a picture. In the process, Rory was being pushed against the paparazzi in front of her who were kept back only by a barricade and the big burly bouncers from the nightclub.
Rory was feeling claustrophobic, sandwiched between one tall guy and a rather muscular woman who kept giving her a dirty look. Goddammit, I need some air.
“Lizzy!” Rory shouted again in vain, as if her voice would be heard over this commotion. She was so close and yet so far from her friend. No way am I giving up now. Rory took a deep breath and tried to make way to reach up front.
Tanya Cox was busy posing for pictures and giving sweet smiles to the paparazzi. Rory froze as she saw Arsen Ford walk out of the club and greet Tanya, both of them posing for pictures. Arsen had a smile on his face. He looked happy. Rory’s heart sank and slipped down into a dark space. She wanted to run away, to be invisible. To be back in Montcove, in her safe, comfortable home.
Lizzy. It’s about Lizzy, she reminded herself. She thought about shouting Arsen’s name, but she didn’t want help from him at all. More celebrities that she didn’t know came out of the club, and the paparazzi started their regular routine of screaming for pictures.
Arsen and Tanya were nowhere in sight. As Rory gained some more space, she saw that Arsen was ushering her into another car.
“Arsen!” she shouted, involuntarily. He was her last hope after all. “Arsen!” She jumped up, raising her hand. The paparazzo next to her chuckled, thinking her some crazy fan.
Arsen turned around, but he just smiled and randomly waved at the cameras. “Arsen!” One last try. Being confined to a small space, tightly packed in with a whole bunch of bodies, made her feel woozy. The claustrophobia was real and the body odor of all the people around her was making her nauseous.
“Arsen! Lizzy!” she screamed in an exasperated voice, as her knees gave way. A blackness came in front of her eyes as Rory felt all of her strength leave her body.
Rory didn’t know how long she had been lying on the sidewalk, but her eyes opened as she heard someone calling out to her.
“Lady? Hey lady?” It was the Uber driver who was fanning her face. “Are you okay?” he asked, when he saw her eyes open. As Rory realized that she was lying on the ground, she immediately tried to get up. The big crowd had dispersed, but there were a few paparazzi still milling about and sharing laughs at her expense.
A couple of them started taking her pictures as they chuckled at her sorry state.
Don’t take my picture, she wanted to say, but her throat was parched. No voice came out of it. Fuck. Rory just wanted to sit down and cry. This was the lowest that she had fallen. Literally!
Taking a deep breath she got back up, straightened her clothes, ran a hand through her hair, and cleared her throat.
“Gotta give it to you lady, you almost made it through us. You must be a real big fan,” a paparazzo said to her.
“Isn’t she a bit too old to be a fan?” another chuckled.
“Looks like a first-timer in LA You know how these small-town folk can be like,” a third paparazzo said, and they all broke into laughter. Rory quickly started making her way to the cab. To hell with these guys. To hell with this city.
What made her feel worse was the fact that she hadn’t been able to rescue Lizzy. Hadn’t been able to keep the promise that she had made to her mother. How she was going to get to Lizzy, she had no idea. If she had thought that she felt defeated about her life in Montcove, then she was wrong because this was what defeat truly felt like.
She was powerless to stop the tears that slid down her face as she approached the car. She was just done with everything. Rory sat in the back seat of the car and hid her face in her hands.
She had to quickly compose herself because it was time to head to her parents’ house and as always, it wouldn’t be a cakewalk. There was no room for crying and feeling bad. She somehow had to find the strength and the composure to endure it.
As the sight of her childhood home came in her view, her heart started beating audibly. They were not expecting her. They’d probably be shocked that she’d arrived early, but at least they’d be relieved to know that she had arrived well in time for the wedding. Rory crossed her fingers and prayed that her parents were in a good mood. The last thing she could stand was another conflict.
21
For once, her wish came true. The atmosphere in her parents’ house was not tense as it always was. It was actually rather pleasant. The front door was ajar and as Rory opened it to walk in with her luggage in tow, she realized that there was a party going on.
There were a whole lot of people in the house, and everyone seemed to be having a good time. She looked around but could not find a familiar face. Clearly, they were friends of her parents and some other younger folk that she had no idea about. Rory could never have imagined that her parents had such an active social life.
The house was as perfect as it had always been, thanks to her mother’s dictatorial rule. Rory sheepishly walked through the crowd of people, realizing that she was probably the worst-dressed person in the room. I’ll just find one of the family, let them know I’m here and go lock myself upstairs. Rory was in no mood for socializing.
“Look who’s here.” A high-pitched, condescending voice greeted her.
“Hello Tara.” Rory grew stern.
“They weren’t expecting you to arrive until the day before the wedding. I wasn’t even sure if you’d turn up.” Her sister Tara let out a sarcastic grunt.
“No. Yes... I mean, of course, I would’ve come.” The same old uncomfortable feeling of inadequacy reared its ugly head again.
“I’m sure Mom and Dad will be relieved that they’ve been able to pry Her Highness away from her castle in Montcove,” Tara chuckled. Rory stayed silent. She knew it was her sister’s way to provoke her.
“You could’ve at least put on some decent clothes for the party.” Tara eyed her from head to toe. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, Tara. Thank you very much,” Rory said sarcastically. Such a punchable face she has, Rory thought. She heard footsteps coming in their direction.
“Tara, darling, I can’t open
this bottle of wine, will you help…” Her mother became still as a statue upon seeing Rory there. Rory smiled, genuinely, as the shock on her mother’s face amused her.
“Hello, Rory. We weren’t expecting you so soon.” Mary Loughlin’s voice was cold and her demeanor firm.
“Yes, yes. Look, I’m not here to invade your party. I’ll be upstairs.”
“There’s a party going on in your parents’ house and you can’t be bothered to attend it? What will our guests think?” Her mother did a great job of getting offended, as always.
“Mother. I don’t think any of them know who I am.”
“They would, if you’d bother to visit us and check up on your poor parents once in a while.” Two minutes in this house and I am already on the dart board.
“Yes, Rory. Why don’t you visit them more often? What is so precious up there on that little island of yours that you can’t leave it for a few days?”
Rory knew that Tara was playing games, so she left the question unanswered.
“Go upstairs and get changed. You look ridiculous. And come straight down for dinner. I won’t have you in the house and not socialize with our guests,” Mary Loughlin said firmly. What does she think I am, twelve years old?
“Mom. I took a flight and I’ve had a hectic day. I don’t have the energy for this. I am going to go get some rest.” Rory started up the stairs to her old bedroom.
“Rory, don’t you dare walk out on… Rory!” Her mother’s voice disappeared as Rory shut the bedroom door behind her. She knew that she’d have hell to pay in the morning, but for now she just wanted to be alone.
Her old bedroom was full of stuff. Stuff her parents had acquired over the years and some of the supplies for the wedding. It took her ten minutes of cleaning up before she could make up space to lie on the bed. What a day this has been… and this shit still isn’t over.
