The One Thing

by Briana Gaitan

  “You wouldn’t dare!” I hiss the words out. Barrett has never threatened me like this. I can’t believe he’s childish enough to try and cause me to lose my job. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. Barrett’s been on that show for years. He’s the main star. He snaps his fingers and it’s done. He’ll turn all my friends against me.

  “Try me.” He turns around and walks away, leaving me steaming.

  “They don’t hate my character!” I yell before he slams the patio door shut. “Barrett? Barrett! Get your sorry ass back here this instant.” I jump out of my seat and chase him through the house.

  I catch him right as he’s going through the front door. Out of breath, I lean against the wall.

  “Barrett?” My voice is squeaky, like a mouse afraid of having its neck snapped in a trap.

  “I’m sorry, but can I have my ring back now? It’s a family heirloom.”

  I stomp up my staircase and pull his engagement ring out of my armoire. When I make it back downstairs, I shove it in his hand.

  “Take your stupid ring.” I push him out the door with all my strength.

  “I really am sorry, Ginger.”

  I slam the door in his face and lean against it before sliding down to the ground. Did Barrett really just apologize to me? Unfortunately, I don’t even know what his apology meant. Was he sorry, but he had to do this? Or sorry for what he said. Our relationship is too screwed up for words. I suppose it’s a good thing we’re not together anymore. All the silly fighting, harsh words, and unkindness between us isn’t healthy. We were never healthy, just two train wrecks passing the time.

  Unable to think clearly from the wine, I grab my wine bottle and head upstairs. Everything is falling apart in front of me. Just one bad day after another. It isn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to move here and my life was supposed to become idyllic. Without thinking, I pull up my email on my phone and begin a letter to Caspian.

  Hey, how are you doing tonight? Playing anywhere nice?

  - Deena

  I can’t email him again; it’ll make me sound too desperate.

  The couch at Tucker’s house is your typical bachelor black leather with bearskin throw, and it’s only because of how well I know him, that I won’t allow any of my bare skin to touch it. I pull my dress down over my legs and sit down. This is the first night I’ve been off in days. After my huge fiasco with Barrett, I’ve had to keep myself busy just to stay sane. Script reading, auditions, interviews, you name it. It’s all a distraction from the one thing that bugs me, Caspian never emailed back. Why the sudden silence? What did I do wrong?

  I’m normally the life and soul of all the parties, but tonight I feel calmer, more relaxed. I sip on my sparkling water and examine the crowd. Everyone is laughing about something or other. If only I could join in right beside them. These things aren’t as much fun without some alcohol in your system. How does one tolerate the girls who stand in the corner and make rude comments about everyone who passes by? And then there’s the girls who drink too much and end up giving everyone a peep show. Or how about the guy who goes around hitting on everything in a skirt?

  “Ginger, glad you could make it.” Tucker sits down next to me and throws an arm around me. A little annoyed, I unwrap his hand from my shoulder and scoot away. He’s always joking around with me like this.

  “Hands off, Tucker.”

  Even though he’s friends with Barrett and another co-worker, that’s never stopped him from flirting with me. Tucker isn’t bad looking. He’s a few years younger than me with short dark hair and eyes. He’s one of those guys who must live at the gym because I can clearly see the definition under every square inch of his shirt.

  “You and Jo partying this weekend?”

  He’s one of the usuals at the club. “I doubt it.”

  He lifts his drink in a toast, and I feel his dark eyes undressing me. “Can I get you a drink?”

  I hold up my water with a sad look on my face. “I’m all set.”

  “Please tell me there’s vodka in that.” He grabs the cup from my hand and takes a sip. Oh great, I won’t be finishing that now.

  His face scrunches up when he realizes it’s just plain old water. “You’re more fun than this. Let me get you something stronger.”

  I don’t stop him. At least he’s gone, but the silence doesn’t last long. The blue bloods mingle with gossip flowing from their lips like the never ending Cristal that’s poured into our cups. I wonder what they are saying. Behind my back, that is. I only need one guess. Normally, I would join in. But even from across the room, I can feel their stares.

  “Fancy seeing you here.” Lena sits down next to me and gives a catty smile. We’re not exactly friends, more like frenemies. We hang around the same crowd so I have to at least pretend to like her. She’s so generic looking. The Goth girl who tries too hard. Black hair and clothes, pale makeup and a lip ring. I conceal a loud sigh.

  “What do you want, Lena?” I’m in no mood to play nice. With Quinn and Chase being here, and being unable to drink, I’m in the worst mood possible.

  “I heard you and Barrett aren’t together anymore? This time for good.”

  She’s so behind in the times. Our public statement came out earlier this week. A huge uproar in the tabloid community that only made the paparazzi worse. “What do you want, Lena.”

  “Oh, just came to offer my condolences. You and Barrett were such a cute couple,” she coos out. I’m gonna throw up, and I’m gonna do it right on that purple Vera Wang dress she’s wearing. It’s from last season, so I’ll be doing her a favor anyway. Just being around her makes my stomach churn. She isn’t sorry one bit. She’s just here to rub it in my face.

  “I guess you can have a go at him now, huh?”

  “Well.” She laughs and turns around to look at Barrett who stands on the other side of the room. “He is a nice piece of man meat. Besides, you got that musician guy, right?”

  I follow her gaze to Barrett. I don’t have anyone, especially not that musician. Lucky for me, the pictures from Nashville were so blurry that no one believed it was really me. The rumors never got a good footing, and eventually died out after a day or so. Maybe that’s why Caspian never emailed me back. He doesn’t want to get sucked into the drama that is my life. Can’t say I blame him.

  Barrett’s eyes meet mine, but he continues his conversation with whomever he’s talking to and looks away. No wave or smile. We’ve pretty much avoided each other since the fight.

  “Have a go at it,” I say, standing up. “Between the both of you, you’ll have fucked the entire West Coast.”

  I don’t even have to look back; I know her jaw has hit the floor. What a piece of work.

  I’m going to make the most dramatic exit of all time. An exit to put all exits to shame. A sharp piercing scream fills the air, and the entire room quiets, stealing my moment.

  “Gross…” I hear someone say.

  “Ginger!”

  I spin around, my eyes scan the room. It’s Quinn’s voice yelling out for me. Last I saw, she was near the fireplace with Chase.

  “Ginger!” I follow the sound of the voice, through the dozens of people to the other side of the room near the bar.

  “Move outta my way fat asses,” I yell as I push people aside. I see her. Quinn stands with Chase next to her, she’s leaning against the bar, a puddle near her feet.

  “Holy shit, your water broke.”

  “You think?” she snaps at me.

  Chase throws a fist into the air. “I’m gonna be a dad!” The whole room breaks out into a cheer. We’ve been waiting months, but she isn’t due for another two weeks. Is this safe?

  “Should we call 911?” someone asks.

  “No,” I say, grabbing Quinn’s hand. “Quinn is gonna be birthing at home.”

  Her hazel eyes shine with excitement as she smiles at me. “It’s time.”

  “It’s time,” I repeat. To think, for so long I was even more excited that she was about th
e baby.

  “I can’t believe your water just broke, in public.” I begin rattling on as I always do when I’m nervous. “That like never happens in real life only in the movies to add heightened drama and all that crap, and sometimes—”

  “Focus, Ginger,” Chase snaps. He waves a hand in front of my face. “Get Quinn to the car. I’m calling the midwife and getting our coats.”

  I give Chase an evil glare before sweetly turning back around to help Quinn.

  “Move, people! Pregnant lady in labor coming through.”

  Caspian

  I pull the towel off my head and finish the rest of my water before looking toward the guy who has just poked his head inside the room.

  “You go on in five minutes.”

  “Got it,” I tell him. The whole place is packed shoulder to shoulder, making the already hot bar even more intolerable. It’s what I imagine the Sahara desert to feels like.

  “You guys need anything else?”

  “Tell your manager to turn on the air or something! This heat is ridiculous,” I snap and stand to grab another water from the mini fridge. I’m normally not this rude, but things are hectic tonight. Not only are we all running behind schedule, I’m in an unexplainable horrible mood. Right outside that door, bodies buzz with energy, and our opening act, a local group called Divine Misgivings, are warming up the crowd with their hard rock music. The group isn’t exactly our style, but the local crowd seems to love them. I grab the neck of my guitar and warm up by plucking a few strings between my fingers. Some nights I play banjo on stage, every once in a while I’ll use an electric, but tonight I want to keep it simple and use my old acoustic. I nod to my bandmate, Booker, who is twirling his drumsticks in his hand like a baton. It’s a little preshow ritual he has for good luck, twirling those little sticks over and over. Too bad he can’t keep a better grip on them. They’re constantly flying out of his hands, especially on stage.

  “One of these days, you’re gonna hit a fan with those sticks.”

  He beats a little harder and looks up at me. “Any lady would be lucky to get hit with my sticks.”

  “Sure.” I give him an amused but unconvinced smile.

  “Don’t forget, Aly wants to talk to you.” He nods toward the back room where she has locked herself up for the past hour.

  “Do I have to?”

  Booker raises an eyebrow and scratches at his thick beard. “Do you want her to go back home?”

  No, I don’t. It wouldn’t be fair to continue the band without her. She’s the backbone of the band, and has been with us from the very beginning. I don’t want her dreams to be ruined because of me. I groan and put my instrument down. I don’t need nor want drama before the show, but with Aly, it’s unavoidable. We both knew this day was coming. It’s our first show since the breakup. I shuffle towards the door in my fluffy house slippers and slide into the room. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. She always meditates before a show. The smell of lavender incense fills my nostrils.

  “Aly?” I call out. Instead of an answer, I feel her small warm arms wrap around my waist.

  This isn’t what I came back here for, so I untangle her from around me.

  “Booker said you needed something.” I try and make it clear with the tone of my voice that this is the only reason I came back here. Aly groans and flips a switch, flooding the room with a bright florescent light.

  “Hell, Aly. A little warning next time, huh?” I cover up my face until my eyes adjust.

  “Everything is screwed up and awkward between us, Cas.”

  I push my glasses up further on my nose, and grab her by the shoulders. She’s barely five feet so she has to tilt her head way back to look at me. Her long black hair is pulled up on her head, and she’s wearing far more eyeliner than I care for.

  “Listen, we were friends before, and we can be friends after. Just because we broke up doesn’t mean the band has to break up too. I have no issues singing together and keeping our relationship strictly professional.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’re the one who broke up with me!” Aly’s eyes begin to tear up, and she wipes away what little is left of her makeup.

  “Don’t cry…” I’m too nice of a guy. If she cries, I’ll feel bad for the rest of the night and I’ll end up doing something stupid. Something I’ll regret. I can’t stand to see her in so much pain.

  “I gave you five years of my life, Caspian! Five years, and then you do this to me, to us, to the band? It isn’t right. I can’t go out there and sing those songs.”

  I give in to my guilt and reach out to smooth down a few stray hairs. In another time, another place, we could have been perfect together. Aly and Cas. But it wasn’t working out anymore. It took a lot of courage, but when I finally broke things off, a huge weight had lifted from my shoulders. We’ve known each other for ten years, and people change. We aren’t the same people we once were. I couldn’t give her all the things she wanted. Aly wants to start a family. She wants commitment. Two kids, white picket fences. I’m not ready yet.

  “Did I do something wrong?” she asks. “Tell me, what can I do to get you back again?”

  “We’ve gone over this. We’re heading down two different paths. I can’t marry you, and you deserve a guy who will eventually be your everything. I can never be that guy.”

  Her shoulders slump. “This sucks.”

  “Do you want to quit?” I pray that she says no.

  “No. I can’t bail out on the guys. We’re a team.”

  I exhale a sigh of relief. Booker wasn’t agreeable when I confided in him that I was breaking up with Aly. “Good because we’re not a band without you. You can do this. Just go out there and play.”

  She takes a deep breath and nods. “Just give me a few more minutes.”

  “Okay.” I squeeze her arms slightly before leaving the room. I can’t let this tear us apart; I need to fix this before something bad happens.

  “Aly still upset?” Booker asks when I shut the door behind me.

  “Yeah, I don’t know what to do. I gave her the time off she needed. She missed six shows, but it doesn’t seem to make anything easier. I dunno, I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me.”

  “That’s why you never mix business with pleasure.”

  “ I didn’t think this would happen. I thought we’d always be together, but we were stupid kids back then. No matter, how hard I tried. I couldn’t save us. We were doomed from the start.”

  “This whole band revolves around her. Damn, it’s named after her, and all your songs are about her... I mean, she’s upset but can you blame her?”

  I run my hands down my face and look over at Booker. He’s been my best friend since grade school, and if anyone can make me feel better, it’s him. But if anyone can make me feel like shit, such as right now, it’s him. We’ve been through everything together. We created this band our senior year of high school and never looked back. We’ve enjoyed minor success here and there, enough to pay the bills and continue doing what we love. We even had a record deal for a few years. I grab a cigarette and light it up to calm my nerves. My jittery leg calms as the nicotine flows through my veins.

  “Think I made a mistake?” I ask him. He doesn’t know all the reasons why we broke up, but he has a few ideas. Aly and I are essentially the same person musically, but when I sing the songs I wrote about her five years ago, I don’t feel the same sparks, and she doesn’t deserve a man who can’t make her his everything.

  “You said you don’t love her anymore.”

  “I don’t love her like that, but I don’t want the band to break up.”

  “Me either. We’ve been together for ten years, man. This is the height of our career, we can’t lose her now. We’re a family, and we won’t be the same.”

  “It’s not my fault. I can’t stay miserable with Aly just to keep the band together.” I glare at him for trying to guilt me.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Booker continue
s. “I’m just looking out for the band. Speaking of which, there will be no band if we don’t get some new music soon.”

  “I know. I know.”

  “What happened? You wrote one awesome song in Nashville. Well half a song anyway.”

  “It was a fluke, but we can’t play that song.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s about another girl. Aly will flip.”

  There’s a knock at the door, signaling us to get on stage. I smash the butt of my cigarette into the ashtray and grab my guitar.

  A devilish grin spreads across Bookers face. “Oh yeah, that redhead. How is she?”

  “Shut up,” I hiss, afraid that Aly is listening in. I harden in my jeans just thinking about her. Like a shallow asshole, I admit, her beauty drew me in. After we began talking, I never wanted to stop.

  “So? She doesn’t have to know it’s about a real girl. I vote for practicing it in the morning.”

  “Bad idea, man.”

  “Give her time, Aly is a strong girl.”

  I eyeball him. “We’ll see.”

  “I just want you both to be happy. Let’s just go play.”

  I head out behind him toward the stage where Fiz and Leo are already waiting.

  “Ready guys?” Leo jumps up and down in place, but his spikey blond hair doesn’t move an inch. At twenty-one, he’s the newest and youngest member of the band, replacing one of our original members who, as he puts it “got a real job.” Leo is Booker’s little brother and carbon copy, but a damn good bass player. When I see Leo, I still see a little kid following us around in his diaper, but he’s proven himself the past few months. He’s talented, got a great mind for business, and about as loyal as they come.

  Fiz is the wildest of the group. He’s always playing pranks, and getting into trouble. He wears almost as much eyeliner as Aly and changes his hair color weekly. I guess you could say he has the worst influence on us all. Fiz holds out his blue electric guitar like a trophy. “Ready, but where’s Aly?”