Authors: Elizabeth Nelson
As I kissed him, previous guilt simply vanished. I wasn’t aware of any emotion other than pure lust. Breaking off, I struggled to catch my breath as we laughed shyly at each other. Then, it hit me.
“This is absurd. I shouldn’t have done that. Nate, you have to go. I don’t want this.” He held both my hands.
“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. You. . .you’re different. This is different, it’s special. It’s worth fighting for.” His eyes. Oh dear God, his eyes. They were like whirlpools, sucking me in, dragging me in further. I took a step back.
“I don’t want any kind of relationship. I don’t want to betray my best friend. You have no idea how much she’s done for me. I can’t go behind her back like this. Go home Nate.” Out of nowhere, a lump formed in my throat. How was I falling for him? I’d always liked him, but I’d never looked at him that way before. I couldn’t fall for Becky’s ex—the man who had broken her heart. He was the ultimate of no-go areas. It was basic girl code. I walked away from him, feeling awful. For him. For me. For Becky.
I had promised that I wouldn’t get involved with anyone. I had scars deeper than anyone I knew from my last relationship with that son-of-a-bitch Peter, and I was only just figuring out who I was after he’d destroyed me. I wasn’t ready or assured enough to share that person with anyone yet. I shook my head to try and rid myself of the thoughts. All of that was really beside the point. I couldn’t make out with my best friend’s ex and that was that. So why did I feel so goddamn upset about it? I knew what I was doing when I’d come out here tonight—I had a feeling he would come for me, I knew the connection between us could have been the start of something special. Just bad timing. Really, really bad timing.
I couldn’t look Becky in the eye the next morning. She’d been a bit frosty with me since I’d returned back from the gig—or maybe that was just my guilt-ridden, paranoid imagination.
“I’m staying at Jason’s tonight. Are you going to be okay here?” She sat next to me on the couch. I could have cried at her concern, I didn’t deserve it in the slightest.
“I’ll be fine. You guys have fun,” I said quietly, staring at my feet.
“Well, just call if you need me or if you have a panic attack. Anytime, you know that.” I nodded, afraid that tears would spill if I opened my mouth again. God, how could I have been such a bitch? Becky had been the sole reason I had gotten back the confidence to go to that gig alone in the first place. She’d nurtured me back to myself after Peter, she’d taken care of me, learned how to calm me down if I had an attack, offered my anxiety medication at just the right times. She was the reason that I sat here today, and not in some psychiatric institution – how could I have kissed Nate? It would break her if she ever found out, but I felt like it was breaking me by not indulging myself in him. I practiced some deep breathing, like the doctor had shown me. What a mess.
As soon as she left, I paced the apartment, trying to think of something to distract myself with. I had no other friends, nowhere to go. I scanned through Netflix and chose a stupid comedy, but my mind was only half on it. My cell’s vibration made me jump, and then smile as I saw the name on the screen. Nate.
I need to see you,
it read.
I shoved it under a pillow but it was no use. I needed to see him too. I felt obsessed. I had no idea where his next gig was, and had stopped myself from Googling it, having miserably failed at stopping myself staring at Google images of him all day. Trying not to think too much about it, my thumbs deftly moved across the screen as I typed my reply.
‘Come over. Becky’s out.’
After pressing send I flung the phone to the other side of the couch and buried my head in a cushion. It was seconds before I got my reply. He’d be here in an hour. Butterflies tickled my stomach, I couldn’t deny the excitement at the thought of seeing him. A sudden alarm went off inside my head, and I manically rushed off to the shower, shaved clumsily, smothered myself in my most expensive moisturizer and put on make-up to make it look like I was wearing no make-up.
I’d just finished preening in front of the mirror when the buzzer went. I was nervous as I opened the door and the sight of him standing there in his skinny jeans and leather jacket nearly made me swoon. He flashed me a lop-sided grin as he stepped inside and looked around.
“Is it weird? Being back here?” I asked, suddenly conscious that this might remind him of Becky, might remind him that he was still in love with her and didn’t want me.
“Yeah, it’s weird. I feel much happier being here now than I did a year ago, though. How have you been? Have you said anything to her?” He turned to me. I widened my eyes incredulously at him.
“Of course I haven’t said anything to her. She’d be devastated. I’d lose my best friend.” I prickled. “Nate. You aren’t doing this to get back at her, are you? To make her jealous?”
He reached out for me and clasped my hand. “Not in the slightest. Don’t even think such things. Anna, you must agree that what she did to me was unforgivable? I know you’re loyal to her, but don’t you think she was in the wrong? I’ll never forgive her, I don’t want anything to do with her.” He kissed me gently on the cheek. “You, however, are a different story.” As he moved his lips across my face, I leaned back so I could see him.
“I’m not sure I quite understand,” I said, confused. “I thought you guys broke up because Becky couldn’t handle the lifestyle. She said she’d caught you with fan girls, that she’d never be able to trust you. You broke her heart. What did she do that was so wrong?”
Nate’s jaw dropped and he walked to the kitchen, helping himself to juice from the refrigerator. He took several long gulps before meeting my eye again.
“She told you nothing, did she? I mean, you really don’t know?”
“Know what? I’ve just told you what I know.” I was growing impatient, fed up with the riddles. Nate pressed his lips together into a hard line.
“No. I think she should tell you. I can’t believe she hasn’t. Well, I guess I can. It would’ve been to make me look like the bad guy. Why don’t you ask her?”
I huffed, frustrated at the secrets, baffled as to what Becky could have been keeping from me. Nate tried to diffuse the atmosphere by kissing me again, but I was too agitated. It was as though I was on the outside of their little circle. Being so close to an ex was never going to work, and as painful as it was, I had to admit that to myself.
“We’ve got tonight. You need to be gone before morning in case she comes back early. We’ll have tonight and then that’s it. This will always be too hard. We’ll fail before we’ve even begun.”
Nate swallowed and held me tight to his chest. I fought back tears for the second time that day. We stayed there, holding each other in silence for a long time. I tried to figure out ways in my head, ways that we could make it work, ways that we could be together, but it all seemed impossible. We moved to the couch, where I wrapped myself around him, wanting to sink inside his skin, be a part of him forever. Neither of us spoke until he got up to leave in the early hours. It was the most thrilling night I had ever had—stroking his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling his fingers caress my hair. Without words and without meaning to, I had fallen in love with him over those quiet hours and I wondered how I would ever be strong enough to let him go.
When he got up to leave, he leaned in for a lingering kiss. Still, no words were exchanged between us. There didn’t seem to be any need. My mind was swirling with emotion. I wanted him more than anything and I could feel the splintering of my heart as he left my apartment.
I quietly cried myself thorough the desolate hollowness of the early hours. I heard Becky come home around eight, and pulled the duvet over my head to try and muffle the sounds of her continuing with her life as mine was crumbling. I must have fallen asleep for a short time, as the sun shone high through my window when I heard a knock at my door.
“Anna? Are you alright?” Becky’s voice was tinged with worry and my eyes moistened.
“I’m fine. Be up in a minute.” I managed to keep a steady tone. I threw back the duvet and bent down to look in the mirror on my dresser. My eyes were red and puffy, there was no way I’d be able to disguise the fact that I’d been crying. I sniffed and straightened, deciding I no longer cared. I knew this was the moment I may have to choose between my best friend and the man I loved. I wrapped a faded dressing gown around me for comfort more than warmth and stepped out of my room with a firm resolve.
“Oh my God. What happened?” Becky raced to my side and guided me to one of the table’s chairs. She sat beside me and rested a warm hand on my knee.
“Becks. I want to ask you about Nate,” I began. Becky got defensive right away.
“What has that prick done now?” she asked sternly.
“No. No, he hasn’t done anything. It’s just, I need to know what happened between you. The truth this time.”
Becky sat back, thunderous. She folded her arms and glared at me.
“You saw him the other night, didn’t you?” she accused. “What did he say to you?”
I felt torn between betraying his trust and hers. Instead, I just shrugged and repeated my question.
“Anna. I don’t know what that bastard has said to you, but who are you going to believe? Me or him? You already know the truth.”
I thought back to the time Nate and I had spent together last night. How strong the bond between us had been—how I’d felt such a part of him—and I felt myself whirling once again. Who
did
I believe? My instincts were being pulled in two directions, depending on who I was with at the time.
“I want you to tell me what happened Becky, or I’ll ask him to tell me. I’d rather hear it from you.”
She placed her forehead onto the table with a loud thunk and spoke to me from that position, her voice muffled slightly by the wood.
“I really can’t understand why you’re bringing this all up again, Anna. We broke up and I’ve had to work really hard at moving on. I don’t want to have to go over and over it for no reason.” She pivoted her head against the table’s surface so she could look at me. Honestly, she looked so ridiculous at that angle I could’ve laughed. “Are you going to explain why you want to know because I really don’t understand?”
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat so I could reply, but it wouldn’t go down. How was I seriously considering jeopardizing my friendship based on two nights with one guy? How could I believe what he said over someone I’d known and trusted, for years?
“You know what?” I finally got the words out. “It doesn’t matter.”
I looked out the tiny airplane window onto the blanket of grey cloud we were flying above and reclined my seat so that I was almost horizontal. I didn’t want to think about the distance we were travelling, the hundreds of miles away I’d be from Anna, so I turned my head to take in the view of the first class cabin instead. I swallowed and flexed my hands, I needed a drink, badly. Scanning around, I saw that Mikey was snoring, his mouth slack. Rob was buried in his laptop, totally absorbed with the continued organization of the tour. I rubbed my palms over my knees, but the want was too great and I gave in, making a small hand gesture to the stewardess.
“Double Jack please. Easy on the ice.”
The impeccably dressed woman smiled at me as she went to get my drink. It lasted less than two seconds and I quickly requested another. The stewardess kept her smile and nodded. I wished she’d tell me no. I wished she’d tell me that I wouldn’t find solace in the fog. I showed more restraint with my second drink, the first having now created a satisfactory burn in my veins.
I knew I should be easing up on it, taking my health more seriously, but I was scared to allow too much thinking to occur, and alcohol was a great suppressant for that. Maybe I’d try self control again tomorrow. For now, the buzz in my head, coupled with the gentle whirr of the plane’s engine, were proving to be very relaxing indeed.
The jolt of landing woke me and I was surprised I hadn’t noticed the descent. Like most things nowadays, flying had become mundane and uninteresting to me. Once, flying to perform a show had been a total buzz, I’d even called my Mom the first time the record company had arranged it. “They’re paying for us to fly out there,” I’d told her in awe, and that was when we still flew economy. I winced as I sat up. My mouth was sawdust, my head throbbing.
“You look like shit,” Mikey commented helpfully. I ignored him and clambered to get off the plane, tapping my foot impatiently in the aisle. I was desperate to check my phone and see if Anna had texted me. She was taking up so much of my head; it was frightening and exhilarating in equal measure. The epiphany I’d hoped for on the journey had been drowned by alcohol and therefore had never manifested. Frustratingly, drinking was still my first answer to every question and I was mad at myself for it. I’d wanted to figure out a way, but it seemed Anna was right, all odds were against us. God knows I’d found it hard enough to hold a functional relationship with the lifestyle I led anyway, without the added obstacles we had.
Rob and Mikey walked beside me as we made our way to the tour bus. Both were sniggering over Mikey’s latest exploits. My heart sank as my cell remained silent. God, I was turning into such a miserable son of a bitch. Anna had been the perfect distraction from my general apathy, and now that distraction was gone I couldn’t remember how to just feel happy. I took a deep breath and slid the phone back into my pocket. I wanted to fight for Anna. I liked who I was around her, I liked how she made me feel, but I was emotionally drained and knew I needed to focus my attention on the here and now or I’d be risking losing it all. I needed to concentrate on the band, try and get my life back in order. Maybe then I’d be in a better position to figure out some sort of solution. Maybe I would even be able to figure out the actual problem.
“How was she then, Mikey?” I interjected into their conversation, trying to appear interested, trying to snap out of this funk before I received a well deserved slap from one of the guys. Christ knows I was probably the worst company ever recently. I tried to care.
He slipped his shades down over his eyes as we made our way through customs and out to the waiting tour bus. I followed suit. Once one fan recognized you, that was it—and I had a feeling I wouldn’t come across especially tolerant today. Plus, Mikey had been right, I did look like shit, and I didn’t want photos of me being tweeted around the world in this state.
“‘How were they?’ would be a more appropriate question my friend,” Mikey replied to me with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t encourage him, Nate,” Rob interrupted. “He seems to think I want to hear every gory detail about his made-up sex life.”
We made it to the exit of the airport, getting away with just a few waves in the direction of some shouting girls, and climbed the steps onto the bus.
“You’re just jealous, old man.” Mikey pushed back his dark, curly mop and sprang to the top of the stairs in one leap, his wiry frame making him seem as agile as a cat. He turned to me. “You seem to be a bit thin on the ground woman-wise these days. How can the lead singer of a rock band be having a dry spell?”
I shoved him forward in the aisle and he flung himself onto the faux leather couch that curved around the back of the bus, stretching his long legs over most of the seats. I paused in the kitchenette before joining him, popping the top off a bottle of beer then shoving him over so I could sit down.
Taking a deep swig, I considered his statement. My phone had yet to vibrate, which meant Anna still hadn’t contacted me. I hadn’t thought she’d truly meant what she’d said about last night being our one and only shot—goes to show how well I could read people I suppose.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of brain-dead fans. I want something more. I don’t know, substantial I guess.” I had time to see Mikey’s jaw drop before Jon appeared on the bus. His dark complexion didn’t mask the smudges of purple under his eyes.
“Those kids are my whole world,” he called as he dragged himself down the center of the bus toward us, “but shit, are they tiring.” He, too, grabbed a beer from the small fridge and sank down onto the sofa, placing both feet up on the plastic coffee table that was screwed down to the floor in front of it. “I’m glad to be back to work to have a rest. Don’t know how Marissa does it.”
Mikey punched him on the arm. “Hey, Nate was just telling me how he wanted to settle down. Tell him more about how tired and bored you are. I can’t lose him, too.”
“Er. Those weren’t actually my words, Mikey.”
I rolled my eyes as I explained to Jon, “I was only saying that I wanted someone I could have a bit more than sex with. I kinda miss that part of being in a relationship.”
Mikey smiled at me knowingly. “Ah, the old groupie burn-out eh?” I could feel my frustration rising. Spending so much time together on tour usually took its toll on our friendship at points—and today my patience was paper thin. I tried to keep my cool, they’d put up with enough from me recently. I’d expected Jon to have my back, but he was obviously too wiped to care.
“We need to have some fun.” I decided to take a new tack, I wanted to hang out with my buddies, and I didn’t want to spend the hours after tonight’s show drinking alone in my hotel room. “Let’s go out after the gig. Where’s that place we went last time we were here?” I scratched my head, trying to recall the name of the huge super-club we’d been to. I remembered that the VIP room had a nice, chill atmosphere and a hot barmaid. Of course, Becky had been with me then so I’d been on my best behavior, but I’d still had a good time.
“Rouges!” Mikey shouted, getting to the name before me. “Yeah, it was cool in there, let’s do it. Whoop, boys’ night. I’ll get Rob on board, he can bankroll us.”
“No, no, no.” Jon stood as he chugged the rest of his beer and slammed the empty bottle on the table. “Count me out. I’m going to the bunk to sleep now, and after the gig I’m sleeping some more. It’s all about the sleep.”
“You loser. Four days with your wife and you turn into the dullest dude on the planet,” Mikey shot at him. Smooth as ever, Jon raised his middle finger as he made his way to the bunks in the center of the bus. He climbed up to his and pulled the curtains without another word.
“Touring with you guys used to be fun, you know that? Both of you have sucked this year.” I couldn’t deny that I’d been lousy company. Mikey and Jon were my life, my brothers. I was glad I’d suggested a night out, I needed to reconnect.
On stage that night I felt electric. I threw myself into the music. I’d missed that, I’d missed being so, present. I wasn’t performing for a distraction; I was performing because I loved it, because I believed in the band, because I believed in the music. The fans were loud enough to drown us out at some points, and the sound of their collective voices gave me that addictive high, one that couldn’t be matched with sex or drugs no matter how much I tried.
The chants stayed with me as I showered and changed, ready to go drinking with Mikey and Rob. I was determined to keep the high for as long as I could—like in the old days. Rob had called the club ahead of time and we were escorted straight up to the VIP room. The whole place was decorated in rich reds and gold; a few people were lounging back in the large, soft armchairs; champagne buckets in gold-sprayed stands stood next to every table and tiny spotlights in the walls gave the room a warm, cocoon-like feel. Toward the back there was a sleek, black dance floor with a DJ in a raised booth. The music was awful, it always was in places like this, but I grinned at Mikey as we chose a table. As we placed our orders with the waitress, my sub-conscious started to let me down, presenting me with images of Becky inside this same room. Her long, denim-clad legs had been crossed elegantly as she’d sat opposite me; her silver blonde hair piled high on top of her head and the blue of her eyes striking against smoky black kohl. I was vain and narcissistic, though I considered these to be good qualities in my line of work, but as I’d watched her laugh, I’d thought how great a couple we must have looked. My gorgeous, rock-chick, bitch of an ex-girlfriend.
The more I thought about her, about the pain of our split, the more convinced I became that Anna had the right idea. Having a girlfriend wasn’t worth all the shit that comes with being screwed over, and I wasn’t so sure I wanted to repeat the experience. Anna seemed perfect now, sure, but it’d only be a matter of time before she’d be whining about me being away all the time, or about the time I spent with fans. I was better off. I bought us all a shot of tequila and decided to spend the rest of my night with a man called Jack Daniels.