Always Us by Lizzie Morton
Two
Jake
“We smashed it man!” I get a slap on the back, before Sam jumps all over me like a little kid. I flinch slightly when he makes contact with my back, which is drenched in sweat after being under the glaring lights for a full set. One of the perks nobody tells you about performing on stage. It’s sweaty work and the last thing I want is this asshole crowding me. I need a shower, like yesterday.
I shove him away, removing my earpiece and grabbing an ice-cold bottle of water before replying, “You say it like you’re surprised.”
He shrugs and I know it’s pissing him off that I’m not more enthusiastic. “It gets me every time. That we’re here, doing this. Living the dream.”
When he speaks it’s with excitement and makes him look younger than the twenty-six years we’ve managed to reach. He looks the way I remember my best friend from high school looking, before life on the road spent boozing and using women, left, right and center began to take its toll.
“This is where hard work and perseverance gets you. And talent.” I sound cocky, but we didn’t get here by chance and we deserve every success we’ve had. We’ve worked hard since leaving high school, covered multiple jobs, taken risks. We’ve sacrificed more than anyone will ever know, more than any of us thought we’d have to, and now, it’s all finally been worth it.
“Yeah, yeah. I don’t need one of your speeches again. Anyway, it’s our last gig on home turf, celebratory drinks?”
Truthfully, I’m beat, but there’s no way I’m letting the guys down so they can bitch at me for days after. This is the part they live for, the afterparty and the women. Looking to Zach and Ryan, I wonder if maybe, just this once they’ll back out and decide to do the sensible thing, calling it a night. But when they nod their confirmation in Sam’s direction, I resign myself to it being at least a few more hours till I can crawl into bed.
“Sure,” I reply. He doesn’t need to know that my plan is to grab a couple of beers and then ditch without them realizing.
Completely oblivious to my foul mood, he continues, “Man. I caught a glimpse of some of the ladies in that crowd. They were so wet for us.”
“Ever the gentleman.”
“Hey, come on. You can’t say you’re not tempted? Not even a little?”
He looks at me hopefully, wanting my answer to be different than it has been in the past two years, as if overnight I might have had an epiphany and decided it’s finally time to move on. But if my actions in the past couple of weeks haven’t convinced him otherwise, I don’t know what will. I’m as close to moving on as I am to rekindling things with my estranged mother: not at all.
I can’t be bothered going into it all again, so I say, “Maybe.”
It pacifies him, for now. He’s too amped from our set to focus on me any longer.
Heading to our dressing room, I’m ready for a shower and change of clothes before we greet the fans. It needs to be a quick turnaround. We’ve become known in the industry for being professional and always on time, it’s not a reputation I’m willing to sacrifice. Despite the guys being guys, it’s the one thing we’ve all agreed on, not to become assholes with the fame.
When we’ve cleaned up, we make our way to the press room which has been reserved for meet and greets. A member of the stage crew ushers us to the door quickly and I brace myself for the fans. As the door opens, the screaming hits us straight in the face and the feelings of euphoria begin to kick in. This is it. This makes every sacrifice we’ve ever made worth it. It makes losing her worth it.
***
“It’s settled then. Are you excited? This summer is going to be huge.”
I glance up from the spot on my jeans, which I’ve been staring at for the last ten minutes, to where John West is sitting at the end of the exec table, beaming back at me. I can’t look at him for long, especially when he pulls a face like he is now, he looks too much like her. I give a simple nod of confirmation, along with Zach and Ryan, then return to staring at the spot on my jeans.
Sam, unable to contain his excitement, hoots out, “Hell yeah!”
It’s so loud that even the sound proofing of this swanky meeting room can’t stop his voice making its way into the offices surrounding us. The group of female employees walking by giggle at his response.
Mr. West continues smiling, not remotely phased by Sam’s reaction. “Excellent. This is it, what you’ve been working for. You think what you’ve been doing up until now was making it big? We’ve tracked the figures in Europe and they’re insane. They love you. Boys, you’re about to step it up to a whole other level.” Even with his cheesy record label spiel, his excitement is infectious, and I find myself nodding back enthusiastically with the other guys. Then he asks the question that’s on all our minds. “Are you ready?”
It sobers us immediately and it’s like we’ve been transported back to two years ago, sitting in the same room signing our first record deal as he asked the same question. Now, the daunting feeling of what’s to come, the pressure of putting everything on the line is bigger than ever. It’s crossed my mind more than once and I know, although they would never admit it, the other guys have thought the same. Can we step up our game up and take this thing to the next level? Can we each give it everything we have and commit one hundred percent? Sam, Zach and Ryan are ready, I know they are, they always have been. They live for this shit and over the years have let nothing get in their way. But me? On more than one occasion, Sam has vocalized that he’s worried I’m holding back, that I’m not giving the band my all. He might be right, but damn if I’m not trying my hardest. It’s not my fault, there’s a piece to the puzzle missing, and there’s only one way to get it back.
We wrap our final meeting before the tour up quickly. Everything else that is left to do is for those behind the scenes to deal with, we do the easy bit. We show up and live our best life, or at least try to make it appear that way.
As we make to leave, John West holds up a hand in my direction stopping me in my tracks. He says, “Jake, can you hold back a moment?”
I thought I’d gotten away with it, clearly not.
The guys scuttle out, knowing what’s coming. They’re my best friends and have put a lot on the line for me, like I have them, so it seemed only right to let them in on what I wanted to do. They were supportive, kind of, at least they didn’t say no.
Giving John a small nod, I sit back down in my seat, bracing myself for what’s to come, his reaction might not be negative, but it certainly won’t be positive either. Working together over the past couple of years, we’ve gotten to know each other well, but I can’t always read him, in the same way I can’t always read his daughter.
“So …” he sighs.
“So?” I say.
Leaning over the table, he clasps his hands together, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Funny story, Jake. I got an angry phone call before this meeting. It was from a certain daughter of mine. She was demanding to know why she’d been signed as part of S.C.A.R.A.B’s PR team for the tour.”
I don’t flinch, there’s nothing I can say to get out of this. He knows it and I know it. I’m also assuming he knows how it’s come about. Perks of being the boss, he has eyes and ears everywhere.
Rubbing a hand through his hair in frustration, the record exec mask comes off and he looks older than he did five minutes ago, his face full of concern. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“It’s already done,” I reply.
He frowns. There’s a bunch of other things going through his head he wants to say, but he goes for the simple option. “Be kind to her.”
“I will if she is.”
He’s fighting a losing battle and he knows it.
“What do you suggest I tell my daughter then?” he asks.
“Nothing. Please.” My voice falters, almost pleading. It pisses me off that he’s caught a glimpse of my vulnerable side, the side I don’t have any control over when it comes to her. Clearing my throat, I attempt to give my voice more certainty when I continue, “Don’t give her the full truth for now, give her a tamer version.”
“Which would be?”
“That she’s the best and we need her.”
***
After winding things up with John, I take a breather, wandering the streets of Brooklyn before finding the guys in Riffs. Surprise.
“He didn’t tear your balls off then?” asks Sam, pushing a beer across the table in my direction.
I shrug, not really wanting to get into it. “Not quite. But he wasn’t happy.”
Zach chuckles. “What did you expect man? You had his daughter signed into an iron clad contract to work with us for seven weeks. I’ve read it … The President couldn’t get out of that shit. You must really want her on this tour.”
Sam howls with laughter, before threatening to kill me if I ruin things for us.
Ryan being your typical drummer, simply responds, “More pussy for me.”
“What are we talking about?’ Shaun heads over from behind the bar with a fresh pitcher of beer.
“About how Jakey here has royally fucked us all over. He had Abby signed up as part of our PR team for the tour,” replies Sam.
Shaun’s face flashes from confused, to understanding. Of all the guys, he’s the one most likely to get where I’m coming from, why I have to do this. If anyone knows what unrequited love feels like, it’s him.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” he asks.
“Are you sure carting your ass all the way to Spain, chasing after a certain blonde is a good idea?” I reply.
He holds his hands up and says, “Touché man. Just be good to her. It’s been two years, and this is the band’s time to shine. Don’t let that old crap ruin everything you’ve worked for.”
I nod. “I’ll do my best.”
“Seriously though. Why are you really doing this? What do you expect to get from it?”
“I don’t know.” It’s the truth. I’ve no idea why it seemed a good idea, or why I worked so hard to make sure there was no way she could get out of it, I just did. Ever since the day she kicked my sorry ass to the curb, walking straight out of Brooklyn and hopping on a plane to South Africa, I’ve not been the same. I’ve been here, functioning, but that’s about it.
“You need to figure it out and don’t fuck with her. She’s been through enough.” The last bit pisses me off, because all of this is her own doing. We could have had it all, we could have finally been together with nothing in the way to stop us, but she was too scared and walked away.
“She did this. Whatever happens this summer, she brought it on herself.” The day she walked away from us, she took a part of me with her and I want it back. It didn’t have to be like this. I want her to fix what she broke without a care in the world.
Abby West and I have unfinished business.
