Always Us by Lizzie Morton
Fourteen
Jake – 1 year ago
It would have probably made sense to go home after the performance. For the first time ever, I drank before and during a set and was well on my way to being wasted by the end. It’s something I never do. I’m spiraling and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Zach tried to convince me this wasn’t a good idea, but what can I say I’m in self-destruct mode?
The guys have gotten used to my benders, which are becoming more frequent with each week that goes by, and tonight has been the worst yet. They were reluctant and wanted to keep the night tame but changed their tune pretty quickly. Especially when I mentioned my plans to go to an escort club with a back-room VIP pass that I’d managed to get thanks to the perks of making our way up the fame ladder. Ryan practically skipped out of the door, dragging us all behind him. Now, except Zach, they’re all equally as wasted.
It all seemed like a good idea at the beginning of the night. It always does when the buzz is fresh. However,like with anything I do at the moment, it only lasts so longbeforeit gets out of hand and I’m left feeling empty.
A group of women walk in.They’re gorgeous,dressed only in lingerie.Sam and Ryan both groan beside me. They never can hide their love for women, and despite their protests of how I’ve been behaving recently, it’s part of the fame game they love the most. They wouldn’t be here otherwise. I know that deep down their intentions are the same as mine.
“Holy shit,” slurs Sam. “I didn’t know it was possible to look so damn good.”
“Remind me why we can’t touch them again,” says Ryan, adjusting himself inside his pants.
Looking down at the joint in my hand, I try to piece together where it’s come from but come up blank, so choose to take a long drag, too long a drag as I begin choking on the smoke I’ve inhaled, looking like an amateur.
“If you value your balls and want to keep them where they belong, you won’t touch any of these girls. It’s against policy,” I say.
I might be wasted, but even I’m not a big enough fool to flaunt the rules. It’s always the case with places like this, you can look but you can’t touch. Even VIPs have to follow the rules. There are special places for if you want to go further, but you’re stepping over a line, going into a world much darker than even I’m willing to go, no matter how far down the rabbit hole I am.
Like the joint, out of nowhere, a tray of drinks appears on the table in front of where we’re sitting and I lean forward, picking one up and downing half in one go. I’m gonna pay for this tomorrow, but for now I need to forget.
“Are you sure you want to keep drinking?” asks Zach.
Out of all of us, he’s the one that kept his head on straight tonight. He’s had the odd drink but I’m sure the only reason he came along was to make sure we all left at the end of the night in one piece.
“If you don’t like what you see, you can leave,” I snap.
I shouldn’t speak to him like I’m doing. He’s one of my closest friends and only has my best interests at heart, but when I’m in self-destruct mode it means shitting all over the people that care about me the most in the process.
“Don’t be a dick.” He looks at me sadly and I know from this, that he gets why I’m being the way I am. He knows I’m hurting, because of her. All it does is piss me off. I don’t need his pity. I give him the one fingered salute, down the rest of my drink and pick up another, knocking this one back in one.
He shakes his head. “You’re going to regret this … you know you are. Pushing your career down the gutter isn’t the way forward. If you fuck everything up by losing yourself at the bottom of a bottle every night, then the reason she walked away will have been for nothing.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” The room tilts dramatically from side to side as the two drinks I consumed begin to take effect.
“I’m right, you know I am. She would be disappointed in you if she saw the state you’ve got yourself into. She walked away for you, and what are you doing with that opportunity she gave you? Fucking it up, that’s what.”
It’s gotten to that point of the night where the clubs’ inhabitants are wasted, and there’s only one thing on everyone’s mind: the women. The music amps up a notch, as if someone knows I need the relief from this conversation. It’s so loud there’s no way we can continue talking, thank God.
What Zach said is too much for me to handle, so I do my best to focus on the beautiful women in front of me, all who begin dancing in a group.
“Let’s get the party started, boys,” I hoot. I sound like a grade A dick and sober me would cringe, but I’m so far gone I don’t care. Standing, I fish out my wallet and throw down a huge stash of notes on the table and wink over at Sam and Ryan. “Extra services.”
Ryan’s eyes practically bug out of his head at the sight of all the money on the table. “Holy shit! Where did you get all that?”
“The old man left it behind. It’s dirty money and it’s what he would have done with it. Something worthless just like he was.”
“Blowing away your inheritance now as well,” shouts Zach over the noise, coming in for another round. “You’re not proving anything by using the money he gave you like this. You just look like a fool. Maybe it would be a royal fuck you to him by doing something useful with it, something he hated. Like putting it into your music?”
He’s right and what he’s saying makes perfect sense, but I don’t care, I’m too lost in myself.
“If you’re going to keep bitching at me, you might as well leave.” I gesture with my hands towards the door, but he doesn’t take the hint.
He shakes his head. “I’m your best friend. I’m not leaving you here when you’re like this.”
“Whatever.”
Without me realizing, the girls scoop up the money and begin a sensual dance in front of us. There’s one with long, coppery brown hair, dressed in some sort of silver sparkling underwear that catches my eye. Trying to focus, I raise my hand, staring directly at her. I wiggle my finger, beckoning her to come towards me. She smiles seductively, making her way over. When she’s closer, she pushes me back into the armchair where I’m sitting and then begins straddling my lap. Continuing her dance, she starts grinding down into my groin. Of course, I enjoy it. I’m a guy … a heartbroken guy. Who wouldn’t enjoy having a beautiful woman rubbing themselves all over their body?
“Tell me what you like,” she whispers huskily into my ear.
“Anything, baby,” I reply.
My palms are itching to touch her, but I can’t or this night will be over and our asses will be tossed out on the sidewalk before we know what’s happening. I close my eyes and lean my head back against the chair, relishing in the feel of having a woman close. It’s been a while and it feels good, even if I can only look but not touch.
A few minutes pass, and I can feel the last drinks I downed taking over. I’m beginning to lose all sense of reality as the room starts spinning at an unbearable rate. I’m past the point of return and nothing makes sense, but this is what I wanted, wasn’t it? I wanted to come out, get wasted and forget about everything.
“Jake, you need to open your eyes.” I can hear Ryan’s voice somewhere in the distance.
“They’re open,” I say. Maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. I’m not sure anymore.
“Seriously man, I’m not messing. You can’t fall asleep in here. You’ll have us kicked out.”
“That’s what you wanted isn’t it?” I say, with a slur. Some part of my brain is still able to function, and I open my eyes, only to have them lock on the woman dancing over me. At first, I don’t believe what I’m seeing. It can’t be happening, it’s a dream come true as I stare into those bright blue eyes I know so well, her long brown hair draping over me. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven. How is it possible she’s here? “Abby, baby. What are you doing here?”
“Jake. Abby isn’t here.” Zach’s voice is closer now and I turn and find him crouched down next to me, his face worried. “Shit. You’re so far gone. I knew this was a stupid idea.” Shaking his head, he stands, turns to the girl and says, “We’re done here.” They all titter in disappointment at the fact they won’t be getting any more money out of us tonight, but Zach shakes his head firmly, letting them know he means business. “We’re done.” He repeats it more firmly this time. They must see something written on his face, as they don’t argue and begin leaving the room.
“What did you do that for?” moan Sam and Ryan in unison.
“Because Jake is beyond wasted. If we stand any chance of getting him out of here in one piece we need to go. Now.”
They both look over, and mutter “fuck” under their breath when they see the state I’m in. I’m a mess, I don’t have to see myself to know it. I don’t know how I get home, because I black out before we even leave the club. I’ve sunk to a new low.
There’s a small part of me that knows how bad I’ve allowed things to get, now I’m even hallucinating she’s here with me. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t get Abby West from my mind. It’s been over a year since she walked away, and rather than helping my life become better like she claimed it would, I’ve spiraled out of control, to the point of no return.
This has to end. I can’t keep going on like this or I’ll destroy everything around me. Even in an unconscious state, I’m fitful, dreaming of the girl with the big blue eyes who walked away and took my heart with her.
She didn’t help me. She broke me. Now, she haunts me.
***
Abby
I stuck with my gut instinct and even though we’ve been in Denmark for three days, I’ve managed to avoid any contact with Jake like the plague. It should have been easy considering the band were staying on the tour bus and the PR team in a hotel, but I’m beginning to learn that when Jake wants to be in my life, he will stop at nothing until it happens.
There’s been the odd PR event which made it inevitable I was going to see him, but it’s the other times that have been baffling. No matter where I go with the girls, conveniently he appears at the same place with the band. Each time I’ve made it clear I want nothing to do with him, turning back around and walking away. However, there’s only so many times that’s going to fly before he begins to push harder.
We’re at the next festival, getting ready for the band’s set. It doesn’t come as a surprise when I turn around, after being standing for a good ten minutes organizing my kit, and slam straight into a strong chest. I don’t need to look to know it’s him, as my body reacts instinctively.
His voice comes out gravelly, as he attempts to keep it low, so no one else can hear. There are press and bloggers swarming around the tent, and the last thing we need is them picking up on what he’s going to say, as it would no doubt find its way straight to the gossip pages.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
It makes it so much harder when I have to look in his eyes so I don’t, but I can’t stand staring at the floor because it’s making this whole thing even more awkward. I raise my eyes and focus on his chin, it’s a happy medium, and to the outside world I look like I’m engaging with him. Really, I’m avoiding the penetrating gaze of those brown eyes that make me do and agree to things I wouldn’t normally.
“I haven’t.” I blatantly lie.
Not impressed, he snaps, “Yes, you have. I’m not an idiot, Abby.”
“I know you’re not, but I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been busy.”
“Oh really?” My eyes move up to his face despite my best efforts, to find he’s looking at me with an amused expression. “What exactly have you been busy with?”
It’s annoying that he thinks I just run about doing whatever. He knows how important my career is, and the fact he’s belittling what I do riles me up.
“I’m here to work this summer, Jake. The purpose of me being here isn’t just to chase you around.”
Throwing his head back, he lets out a deep laugh. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this carefree side to him. The last time was back in Brooklyn, the morning we were in bed together. Blinking, I try to get my mind back on track, rather than reminiscing over the time we had together.
Recovering from his outburst, he replies, “Calm down, Abs. You’re so easy to wind up.”
I should have known he was doing it on purpose, trying to get a reaction. “Whatever.”
Even though he was joking, I’m pissed, more so that he managed to get a reaction from me so easily. It shows I care what he thinks, and that’s the last thing I want him to know.
“Have dinner with me.”
Stunned into silence, it takes a moment to understand what he’s just asked.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard. Have dinner with me.” His eyes have softened, and he urges me to say yes.
“You can’t just order me around like that, and we can’t mix work with pleasure. After last time when you said the help came with benefits, I’ll end up with a reputation.”
“I was being an asshole back then, and so far on this tour. Let me make it up to you.”
It’s playing out just like my time in Brooklyn. Angry passion filled meetings where we snipe at each other while secretly wanting more but not admitting it to ourselves or each other. The difference now being that neither of us is attached. So, what is there holding me back?
Dan springs to mind. We barely know each other in the grand scheme of things, so what does it really matter what I do? I’m hardly breaking his trust when we’ve yet to even go on a date. I can’t deny the connection we shared the couple of times we met though, and it’s that which has me hesitating.
Would he be happy if he knew I was running around with other guys? Most likely not. But can I trust him to be a saint himself? He’s the singer of one of the biggest rock bands in the world and with that comes groupies and hordes of women throwing themselves his way for a chance to be with someone famous.
If I say yes, it feels like I’m giving up. Giving up on what my gut is telling me, that no matter how we both feel about each other, it’s still not the right time. Something feels off and it doesn’t feel like everything will slot into place like it needs to. If I say yes, the past two years of pain and heartbreak will have been for nothing, because we’re in the exact same predicament we were back then, with the exact same battles awaiting us. Even if he finally told me the truth, Jake and I are both at pivotal points in our career, we would hold each other back.
My head’s spinning, I’m so confused and at a loss as to what to do. Life’s short though, and what have I got to lose, apart from my heart to Jake, again. It’s when I look up and see the eager expression on his face, those giant, pleading brown eyes that undo me every time bearing into my soul, that I know I’m a goner.
“Okay.”
***
Trying to concentrate on photographing the band is proving more difficult than I thought it would be after agreeing to go out with Jake afterwards. Attempting to keep my focus, I stand with my camera held up to my face, waiting for them to come on stage, wanting to capture the very first moments, the expressions on their faces when the enormity of the crowd registers for the first time.
It will be near impossible if I carry on daydreaming about tonight and the possibilities of what could happen. What do I wear? Is it a date? Does he expect something to happen? What does it mean for us if something does happen? Just a handful of the questions flooding my mind.
“You still love him, don’t you?” Amanda is standing next to me, looking up at the stage also.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I lie through my teeth and look back through the lens.
The stage lights up and the crowd goes wild as S.C.A.R.A.B’s opening riffs fill the night sky. I spend the next few moments in the zone, capturing as many pictures as I can and almost forget Amanda is there.
The loud music doesn’t deter her from what she came to say.
“He’s not right for you.”
This stops me in my tracks. “And you would know that how?”
“Surely you would be together after all these years if it were meant to be. Can’t you see that it’s not?”
Part of me agrees with what she’s saying, it’s like listening to the voices in my own head. Still, I refuse to back down despite the truth in her words. The same truth that has been running through my mind over and over.
Breathing steadily through my nose, trying to lose my temper, I reply, “It’s none of your business why we are, oraren’t, together.”
I’m fuming and any hope I had from the day at the photoshoot, that maybe we could work past our issues and get along, are flushed away. One thing we both agree on is we don’t want to see Jake with other women, model-like women. One thing we don’t agree on, however, is that we each want Jake and who should have him.
“You made it my business when you went behind my back and took him from me. What was it, five minutes after I left Coney Island before you jumped the gun?”
It stings how true her words are and make me sound like the world’s biggest bitch. What she doesn’t understand is that Jake was never hers. There’s only one heart he’s ever belonged to and that’s mine.
I’m losing control of everything, allowing myself to think, feel, acknowledge things I’ve been working so hard not to. If I begin to go down this path, I may not find my way back. I look back at the stage and at Jake, who, even though he’s performing in front of thousands of people, has his attention centered on me and the conversation I’m having.
He looks worried and I don’t want to distract him anymore, so I move around, taking photos of the other band members, which is when I see Sam glancing between me, Amanda and Jake with a worried expression. This isn’t good. If we carry on like this, it’s going to mess up their set and that’s the last thing Amanda or I want.
I spin around and almost crash into her. I hadn’t realized she’d been following so closely.
“Look. There’s a time and a place to have a conversation like this, and this isn’t one of them. I know you have beef with me but bringing it up in the middle of one of their biggest performances is not going to help anyone. You want to win Jake back? Then leave, now. Ruining his career is not going to make him fall back in love with you. Now go and do your job, so I can focus on doing mine.”
She scowls knowing I’m right and turns to leave but there’s one thing that doesn’t sit right with me. The guilt from that summer. I quickly grab her arm and she looks at me bewildered that I have more to say after my little speech.
I swallow and say, “For the record, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
I return to photographing the set, and after a few minutes, in the corner of my vision, I see her turn and walk away, heading back into the VIP tent.
Letting out an aggravated breath, I try to give my attention one hundred percent back to the guys on stage. It’s not for myself, but for the band and everything they’ve worked so hard for.
