by M. H. Soars
“You’re drunk out of your mind. How can you do this to us?” Tabatha continues, her body as tense as a coiled spring.
“I didn’t do anything to you, you fucking bitch.”
Now people around have started to pay attention to us and the little spectacle Damien is pulling. Son of a bitch, we should have ditched him when we had the chance.
“Is there a problem here?” Oliver is suddenly there, right into Damien’s personal space.
“Fuck off. This doesn’t concern you.” Damien shoves Oliver back and I catch a glimpse of an Oliver I’ve never seen before. His gaze is murderous, his face is locked tight, hard.
He gets into Damien’s face again, towering over the much shorter man. “You reek of cheap beer and weed. You’re a pathetic human being.”
Damien tries to shove Oliver again but he was expecting that. He holds on to Damien’s hands and throws him to the floor instead. Someone in the crowd shrieks and before Oliver can do anything else, we are surrounded by bouncers, being escorted out of the backstage area.
“Take your hands off of me,” I say to the beefy man holding my arm. “We’re about to perform.”
“No, you’re not.” A man who is clearly not a bouncer says. He’s wearing jeans with a sports jacket, and on his head, he has one of those big headphones. “We don’t tolerate any type of violence here. You just forfeited your chance.”
“But that’s not fair. We didn’t start the fight,” Remi complains.
“Oh really? Isn’t that guy over there in your band?” The man in charge points at Damien.
We can’t argue with that. We’re escorted out like we are a bunch of criminals. It’s mortifying. Once we’re outside, Tabatha turns to the nearest bouncer. “What about our instruments?”
“You can come back for them later, after the show is over.”
The bouncers head back inside, leaving all of us still reeling from what just happened. Damien is presently on his knees, puking his guts out. Tabatha spares a glance at him before marching on to get the van. Remi follows her. I, on the other hand, still have pent up anger and when Oliver touches my arm, I unleash the beast.
“This is all your fault!”
“How is this my fault? That loser was assaulting you.”
“He wasn’t assaulting me! And why do you care anyway?”
He seems to balk at my question. “Why do I care? Fuck, are you for real right now?”
“You seemed quite busy not five minutes ago. I can smell the cheap perfume from those ho’s on your clothes from here.”
Oliver narrows his eyes at me. “Oh, so you can get chummy with a guy but when I do it, I’m in the wrong? I was just being nice to some fans.”
“Getting chummy with a guy? What the hell are you talking about?” His words finally click and I realize he must be talking about Levi.
I could explain that Levi is just a friend, but I shouldn’t have to do it. If I wanted to deal with idiotic jealous behavior, I would have gotten a boyfriend. I don’t need this type of stress in my life. I signed up for simple and fun, this is no longer that.
I put my hands up. “You know what? Never mind. It’s clear that our arrangement is not working anymore.”
Oliver opens his mouth before clamping it shut again. I see a muscle tick in his jaw, that’s how hard he’s clenching it. He looks at me, hard, and I wonder if he’s trying to read my mind. After what feels like the longest staring battle of all times, he finally speaks, “You’re right. This is done.”
He begins to walk away and with each step, he puts a chink in my heart. He stops and I stupidly hold my breath. Oliver looks over his shoulder with a small smile on his lips.
“It was good while it lasted.”
Nineteen
SAYLOR - TWO MONTHS LATER
Soft mattress, downy pillow, cozy blanket, the trifecta for a perfect good night’s sleep. I haven’t had one of those in a while. You know what doesn’t belong in this heavenly set up? The sound of my alarm going off. What the fuck!
I peel one eye open and glance at the screen of my phone. It’s only ten in the morning for Christ’s sake. Why did I set my alarm this early? My fuzzy brain takes a moment to catch up. That’s not the alarm going off, it’s Kimmy calling. Shit! Now I remember. I turned off the alarm earlier and now I’m late for Liv’s appointment at the bridal shop.
I yank the covers off and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I spare another glance at the phone and debate answering it for one split second before deciding against it. I’m not in the mood to hear Kimmy bark at me while I have a pounding headache already.
I stand up too quickly and the room begins to spin. I pinch the bridge of my nose as if that is going to miraculously get rid of the pain. I do not need a migraine episode today of all days. They have been happening more frequently since Oliver and I ended things. I should go see the doctor again—I still have to let him know of my decision as well—but I keep postponing it, mainly because I don’t know what I want to do.
I wish I could bail on this bridesmaid’s dress fitting, but I’m the maid of honor. I have to be there.
The nausea hasn’t hit yet, so maybe this will be a minor episode. I don’t usually pray, but I will pray for that. If I faint in front of Liv she will be on my case like Tabatha was. I can’t tell her anything. It will ruin the special moment she’s living right now.
I take double the dosage of my prescribed pain medication and get dressed in the first thing I see hanging inside my closet, which turns out to be dark, tight jeans that are ripped on the knees, a faded tank top with skulls all over it, and my red chucks. I don’t bother with make up or combing my hair. I just pull it back into a messy bun.
I text Kimmy saying I’m on my way so she will stop calling me, and I’m out of the house in less than ten minutes. The drive to the upscale bridal shop doesn’t take long. Littleton is a small town after all. It would have taken me even less time if people stayed home on Saturday mornings instead of running errands. What’s wrong with just chilling in bed until lunch time?
The store is one of those places where you must ring the gilded doorbell and are only granted access if you have an appointment. They just don’t let random browsing customers in. The disembodied voice of a woman who sounds just like Judy Dench comes through the intercom. I tell her I’m with Liv’s party and she unlocks the door to bridezilla’s paradise. I take two steps in and a perfectly coiffed lady wearing a light gray pencil skirt suit greets me. Her disapproving elevator glance tells me I’ve picked the wrong outfit for the occasion. I wouldn’t be surprised if she instructs security to train all of their cameras on me.
If I ever had any notion of what the pearly gates would be like it, this is it. Everything is so white. The walls, the furniture. At least the plush carpet is a blush color. I had no idea such a place existed in our town.
Suit lady opens the double doors in front of her with a flourish, and I hear the animated voices of my friends. I spot Kennedy and Emma first, who both turn in my direction. Emma looks me up and down and raises an eyebrow. The smirk on her lips says it all. Kennedy just smiles at me with a twinkle in her eyes. Her long hair has more layers now, making her look edgier and trendy. Her clothes also fit like they cost a lot of money. Not that Kennedy dressed poorly before. She had been practically raised in the fashion industry after all.
I cross the room, striding in their direction for hugs and kisses.
“Where the heck have you been? I flew from New York and I was able to make it on time,” Emma jokes.
“Don’t ask.” I reach for the glass of mimosa on the nearby table and stop, remembering that I’m on pain meds. Crap. My headache has subsided, but I can still feel the throbbing. I grab a glass of orange juice instead.
“Kimmy is not very happy with you right now,” Kennedy says.
“I know.”
She throws an arm around my shoulder and squeezes my arm. “It’s okay. We’ll protect you.”
“How is everything go
ing with you, missy? Doesn’t your movie open soon?”
“Yes, just after Liv’s wedding. Which is lucky because I’ll be on the road a lot to promote it.”
I pick a strand of her hair. “I love the new look. Very Hollywood.”
Kennedy shrugs. “My agent thought I needed an upgrade. He hired a personal stylist for me. She’s nice.”
“Speaking of your agent, I bumped into Levi a couple of months ago.”
“Oh yeah? I haven’t seen him in ages. What is he up to?”
“Oh, you know, the usual Levi antics.” I shrug, not knowing why I decided to bring up the last time I saw Levi. I don’t have a lot of happy memories of that evening.
“I never understood why you didn’t hook up with him, Ken. He’s so yummy,” Emma chimes in.
A funny looks crosses Kennedy’s face, but it’s gone too fast for me to read it. I open my mouth to ask, but just then, Liv comes into the room, wearing her wedding gown. She looks radiant, absolutely breathtaking. Sebastian won’t be able to hold his shit together come wedding day.
Liv, being the eternal romantic that she is, chose a true princess gown with a sweetheart neckline and a gauzy, tulle skirt. The bodice is covered with a delicate and intricate lace pattern. It’s simple and yet so dreamy. I forget about all my problems while happiness for my best friend overflows my heart.
“What do you think?” She twirls around.
She gets ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ from everyone around her. Her face breaks into the brightest smile and when her gaze connects with mine, we share a secret message. I’ve been with Liv through all the phases of her relationship with Sebastian. I still remember as if it was yesterday when she confessed she had a crush on him and came up with her plan to get him to notice her. I can never forget the emotion in her eyes when she told me about their first time, or the devastation that followed. If anyone deserves a happily ever after, that someone is Liv.
“You look stunning,” I say and her smile grows bigger.
Liv goes to a separate room where the seamstress will make the final adjustments. That’s when Kimmy finds me.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I give her an innocent look. “Uh, for the past fifteen minutes, I’ve been here.”
“Don’t be sassy with me. And what are you wearing?”
I glance down at my outfit. “Clothes?”
To my right, I hear Emma and Kennedy giggle. But with one murderous glance from Kimmy, they don’t make another peep.
“You look like you are hungover. Nice, Saylor. Very nice.”
I put my glass down and cross my arms in front of my chest. “Where are the stupid dresses we should be trying on? They’d better not be something a flamingo threw up on.”
Kimmy rolls her eyes, and just like that, the rage is gone. “Please. I have excellent taste. Follow me, ladies.”
I finally spot Mandy, sitting removed from the scene with a faraway expression on her face. I’ve kept tabs on her these past couple of months. She agreed to see a therapist thanks to my insistence and she does look healthier. On her lap, I notice she has a notebook open and she’s holding a pen loosely between her fingers.
I approach her, and when I’m near enough, she seems to wake up from her trance. “Saylor. When did you get here?”
“Fifteen minutes ago. Come on, we’re trying our dresses on now.”
She closes the notebook and plasters a forced smile on her face. There’s a twinge in my chest. She’s still not well.
Twenty
SAYLOR
“I can’t believe we’re finally all together. I’ve missed you, guys.” Emma throws her arms around my shoulder and Liv’s.
“Well, you are the one who decided to move to New York City,” Liv says.
Emma lets out a heavy sigh. “I know. I hate it. It’s so cold and New Yorkers are so freaking rude. I’m thinking about coming back home.”
We’re jolted forward when Kennedy tackles Emma from behind, throwing a hand around her neck. “Yay! Do it, Em. We need to bring the gang back together.”
I trade glances with Liv and we both chuckle. Kennedy is not one to be loud like this, especially in public. I guess she had one too many margaritas at our favorite Mexican restaurant. We’re headed now to Closing Time, an Irish Pub in Hermosa Beach where Wreck of the Day used to play every Thursday. It’s one of the biggest establishments on the main square and it has a mini stage tucked away at the end of the main room.
The place is busy as it usually is on a Saturday night. The crowd is a mix of regulars, tourists, and from time to time, you’ll get your random celebrity. We are close to Hollywood after all. Rori McKay, the owner of the place, is in his usual spot behind the bar, chatting with some customers. I notice Emma throw a long glance in his direction and smack her lips.
“Who is that piece of man candy?”
I shake my head and smile. It’s Emma’s first time here and if Rori is not careful, she will have him wrapped around her fingers in no time. The girl has yet to meet a good looking man she doesn’t want to tap. And Rori definitely meets the criteria. He has a ruggedly handsome face that is framed by wild dark blond curls which he keeps off of his face with a leather head band. His perpetual five o’clock shadow grants him a roguish look that makes girls go crazy. But he is very particular about the girls he hooks up with. It’s refreshing to find an attractive guy who is not a manwhore.
Oliver’s face flashes in my mind, making my heart twist in response. I haven’t seen or heard from him since the Battle of the Bands’ fiasco. It’s better this way. We both knew our hook ups were doomed from the start, so the fact that it ended months before our friends’ wedding feels like divine intervention.
“I went to school with him,” Kimmy, who also tagged along on our girls’ night out, says. “He’s so dreamy. Owen was mad jealous of him.”
Emma actually stops moving to stare unabashedly at Rori. She brings life to the term ‘maneater’. I lace my arms with hers and steer her far away from the bar and toward our reserved table in the middle of the room.
After the dress fitting, I worked for a few hours at the Goulas and then I met the girls again for dinner. Emma flies back to New York tomorrow evening and Kennedy has a full schedule next month. We’ll only be together again for Liv’s bachelorette party and wedding, so tonight is our time to catch up and have fun.
Since the pub is full, it takes some time for a server to approach our table. But it’s Rori who comes to us in the end.
“Good evening, ladies. What can I get for you tonight?”
Emma gives Rori an elevator glance and you cannot mistake the glint of appreciation in her eyes. “How about you?”
Rori’s face turns a couple of shades darker and he has to clear his throat before answering. “I’m afraid I’m not on the menu. But we have over a hundred different kinds of beer on tap.”
“Forgive my friend. Her mouth has no filter. How have you been, Rori?” I say.
“I can’t complain. Miss having Wreck of the Day play here on Thursdays.”
“Well, we can’t play without a drummer. Maybe you can ask around? I could leave some flyers.”
“Will do. What happened at Battle of the Bands sucked. But to be honest, I’m glad that Damien is gone. He didn’t fit with you guys.”
Rori’s comment feels like another jab against my chest. Oliver had said the same thing.
Emma snorts. “Yeah, he was a total loser.”
Rori smirks at Emma’s comment but my friend misses his reaction. Good. She doesn’t need further encouragement. We order our drinks and once Rori leaves, Liv claps her hands, drawing attention to herself.
“I’m so glad we are all here because I want to talk about a surprise I’m planning for Bas.”
“What do you have in mind, sis?” Kimmy puts her elbows on the table and leans forward.
“I was thinking about doing a mash up of the most popular boy band songs throughout the decades and performing it during the wedding
reception.”
“Oh, I like that idea,” I say.
“We can start with The Beatles,” Mandy pipes in.
“What about a boy band from the fifties?” Kennedy picks up her phone and begins to type away, no doubt searching on Google.
“Yes, we can start with the fifties, anything before that will be a bore. But we’re definitely doing Backstreet Boys.” Kimmy plays with a strand of her hair.
“Hell no! NSync all the way,” Emma says.
A waitress comes to our table bearing goods. She has a tray in her hand with shots we didn’t order. “This is on the house, girls.”
Kimmy looks over her shoulder and waves at Rori. He salutes her and grins before bringing his attention to one of his patrons. Next to me, Emma sighs dreamily.
“So gorgeous.”
The pub becomes louder the later in the evening it gets. A band that usually plays on Saturdays is already on the stage, setting up their equipment. I stare at them for a moment, missing like hell playing in my band. We still jam from time to time, but it’s really not the same with the band incomplete. I know that Tabatha and Remi are getting impatient and if we don’t find a new drummer soon, I’m afraid it will be the end of Wreck of the Day.
The drinks keep flowing and I won’t lie and say that the room hasn’t started to spin a little bit. But hell, I won’t see my girls for a while and honestly, I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun. Everyone is lit up, well everyone besides Mandy who has barely touched her beer. She’s hanging back and observing everything with a small smile on her lips and sad eyes. I wish she would tell me what’s going on in her head. I hope the therapy sessions are helping.
The band starts off with Cake by the Ocean by DNCE and Emma and Kennedy practically jump off their chairs. Before I know it, we’re all on the dance floor, swinging our hips and throwing our hands up in the air as we sing at the top of our lungs.
When Oreo, the lead singer of the band, invites me to sing a duet with him, I don’t hesitate. I miss performing to a crowd. My friends holler and whistle as I go up on the small stage. I ask Oreo what he wants to sing and after some back and forth we settle on an eighties classic, Don’t You Want Me by The Human League.
