Always Us by Lizzie Morton
Four
Abby
It would appear I have a thing with airports. I just love to stand in them amidst life-changing moments,whilefull of dread that’s usually related to Jake. The first time I left Brooklyn, I practically ran out of the city on my own two feet after the way he treated me. I skipped it right out and didn’t look back for six years. Then two summers ago, I returned to Brooklyn, leaving behind Florida and my boyfriend at the time, Michael.
The second time I left Brooklyn, at the end of that fateful summer, it was different. I literally had to rip myself away as every part of me screamed to stay with my family and friends who had managed to break down the walls I’d put up over the years. I sobbed the twenty-four hours it took to get to Cape Town, and still feel guilty for the poor people who were sitting next to me on the plane. I was a sniveling, snotty mess and wound up wasted for a large chunk of the journey. If it wasn’t embarrassing enough, twice an air steward had to wake me as I was snoring so loud, I was disturbing the other passengers.
This time, I’m leaving behind Cape Town, a place I’ve grown to love despite a rocky beginning, and once again I’m full of dread at the thought of seeing Jake. The best part of the day so far was being manhandled by Sooz as she dragged me through Cape Town International when I got cold feet. We drew a lot of attention to ourselves but surprisingly security didn’t get involved to ask what was going on.
Now we’re settled in the departure lounge, waiting for our flight, but my mood hasn’t improved despite her best efforts. She’s tried everything to cheer me up and make light of a bad situation, treating me to my favorite airport meal and two double strength vanilla lattes to help with my wine induced hangover. I’m full, as wired as a raver and still undeniably miserable.
“I can’t believe we’re having to go back to Germany,” I grumble.
“You love Germany,” replies Sooz. She’s right but I’m not about to agree with her.
“I hate everywhere he is. So now I hate Germany,” I sniff.
She raises an eyebrow, one of my habits which has rubbed off on her and a sign we spend too much time together. “Irrational much?”
“Sooz he broke my heart … again.”
The departure lounge probably isn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation, but my hangover has me in a doom and gloom mood and I’m a sucker for punishment.
Rather than telling me to snap out of it, Sooz humors me by continuing the conversation, the sign of a true friend. “Actually, if I remember the story right, it was you who walked away this time.”
“Minor details.”
“No Abby, crucial details. You can’t hate the guy. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
A small, more rational part of me knows what she’s saying is right, but for now, my irrational side is winning.
“He didn’t give me what I needed.”
“Did you give him a chance? Was it necessary for him to give you that information right away?”
“Six years it had been, Sooz. I think that’s more than enough time.”
She huffs a little at my response. “Maybe we should agree to disagree, for now.”
We’ve had this conversation on more than one occasion, always coming to the same conclusion. No conclusion.
Sooz begins checking work emails on her cell. I don’t envy her job. All I have to do is press a button on a camera, I can hide behind my work. Sooz basically runs the show when it comes to all things PR. You name it she’s done it, or she will find a way to, and she’ll make it look effortless in the process.
In case this summer wasn’t daunting enough, it’s such a big project that we’ve grouped with another company from New York, so the rest of the team we have yet to meet. Why the other PR company couldn’t bring a full team for the band and why they need us is beyond me. Something I’ve spent the past few days simmering over.
I’m getting bored, having been sitting in the departure lounge stewing in my own bad mood for long enough. I angle some small talk at Sooz, anything to distract my mind. “Remind me, where are we headed?”
“Seriously Abby, you haven’t even looked at the schedule? I get moping, but this is ridiculous.” And that is why Sooz and I work so well together, both as friends and in business. We keep each other accountable. Often, it’s her calling me out on my bull shit, but I like to think I bring something to the table too.
“What can I say? I may have stuck my head in the sand.”
She looks at me sternly.
“More like buried yourself under concrete. You need to get yourself clued up. Now. I’m forwarding all the tour details to you, again. Lucky for you the journey is over twenty-four hours, so you’ve got time to get yourself up to speed. If you don’t, I swear you will get no help from me with any Jake related scenarios. I’m not putting up with any shit. Got it?”
“I love it when you’re feisty.” I blow a kiss through the air. She rolls her eyes and glances back down at her cell.
“FUCK!” she yells, to which we receive a round of disapproving stares from our fellow passengers at the gate.
“Bad news?” I ask.
“Catastrophic. Fuckety fuck fuck.”
“Care to share? Or are you just going to keep swearing at the object in your hand?”
“S.C.A.R.A.B’s flight has been cancelled. The next one they can get means they land theday after tomorrow. Three hours before they’re due on stage.” She throws the offending cell to the ground and places her head between her knees doing some weird deep breathing technique in a bid to calm herself down.
My mind works at a million miles an hour, as what she’s saying begins to fall into place. “Damn. That means-”
“No soundchecks, no settling in, no wardrobe checks. And if there’s traffic or any further delays. Shit shit shit.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We have the whole flight to do what we can and make sure things are sorted. Like you said, it’s over twenty-four hours which is more than enough time to sort any problems.”
Letting out a long sigh and raising her head, she replies, “You’re right. Plus, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”
“Exactly. I promise I’ll get my act together and I won’t leave you to sort this on your own.” I sound more confident than I feel, but she doesn’t need to know that.
She manages a meek smile and says, “Thanks.”
With excellent timing our flight is called, so we make our way onto the plane and settle into what is going to be a painful journey for both of us. Sooz is right, I need to get my act together. I’ve not spent the past two years working my ass off to mess it all up over Jake. I left two years ago to advance my career, not throw it away at the first sign of trouble.
Now my racing heart needs to catch up with my brain.
***
The journey went relatively smoothly and as promised, I used my time to catch up on all things related to the tour. It’s hard to believe we’re going to spend the summer at some of the locations scheduled, hanging out with the biggest names in rock music. I have to pinch myself a few times as a reminder it’s real and not a dream.
All I need to do is get my head around working with Jake. In the grand scheme of things, I’m only taking a few photos of him, so there shouldn’t be an issue, right? Besides that, I get to spend the rest of the time with my friends, surrounded by hot guys and good music. It’s a life most people would kill for and it’s what has me sitting with a stupid grin on my face as our cab makes its way through the streets of Nuremberg.
The city is breathtaking and what I always imagined Germany to be like. Quite a contrast to what we experienced in Berlin just a couple of weeks ago. Taking in the traditional German culture, I can’t imagine there’s any way Sophie and Zoe can cause any chaos here.
It’s late evening when we finally pull up to a cute hotel in the center of the city. Thankfully, the company managed to pull a few strings last minute so Sooz and I could share a room. If we’d had to camp with the rest of the festival population, there’s no way any work would be getting done. We make our way into the hotel and there’s only one thing on my agenda for the night, sleep.
Having managed to iron out most of the details on the flight for the band’s set tomorrow, I get to wallow in my two-day hangover without being disturbed. If I was worried earlier about not sleeping due to the nerves of seeing Jake tomorrow, I needn’t have been, as I fall into a deep slumber instantly.
***
Jake – 2 years earlier
“This is it, boys. It’s everything you’ve worked for, are you ready?”
It’s all anyone keeps asking. ‘Are you ready?’ I’m ready as I’ll ever be. I think. Since high school, we’ve worked our asses off, focused on nothing but the band. All the late nights, travelling and missing out on normality, while living and breathing our music have been worth it. Nothing can beat this feeling of success.
Mom and Grandpa put tons of pressure on me to go to an Ivy League school. They never accepted me for who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. It was always about keeping up appearances, heaven forbid I taint the family name. I’m surprised they didn’t piss themselves when I got my acceptance letter to Columbia.
After everything that happened with Abby, the last thing I needed was my Grandpa finding out what I was up to. So, I went to the fancy college to keep them happy. It was a small price to pay, but what I didn’t tell them was my plan to carry on with music.
The beauty of music has always been that it’s on me, it’s been my choice and he couldn’t take it away if I was clever with what I was doing. The sneaking around part was easy, I could blame my absence at home on class schedules and study groups, with him being none the wiser. Really me and the guys were running around Manhattan, living the dream.
It was like living two separate lives, the one I had to live and the one I wanted to live. Somehow the guys and I managed to keep what we were doing a secret. In the beginning, it was hard juggling everything, I managed to keep my grades high enough to be acceptable and not raise any suspicion. There were days that were hard, but it was worth every damn minute, and still to this day I wouldn’t change a thing.
It might make me sound like an asshole, but when grandpa passed away, it was a relief. Sure, we were family, but really, he was an oppressive dick who just couldn’t let me be. So yeah, when he died, I was happy. Happy I could finally live my life the way I wanted. I almost suggested to the guys that we play at his wake, a tribute to him, our maker, the one who spurred me on to push as hard as I did.
In the end I decided it wasn’t the best idea or my mom would have shortly been in the grave next to him. She blew a gasket when she found out I’d dropped out of college, but she was always the easy one of the two to defy. She didn’t have the balls to follow up the threats. She didn’t quite follow in her father’s footsteps.
When he died, my first thought wasn’t that I would be free to follow my music, it was Abby. Abby and music were all that mattered in life. All I’d ever wanted.
I didn’t think I’d get another chance with her. I didn’t think it was possible. Not when she lived so far away. Then this summer happened. When we came back from our tour on the East Coast, I never expected things to take the turn they did. My mind was pre-occupied by the possible deal with the record label, it should have been the only thing that mattered.
Then Abby turned up that night in the club, rolling around in a puddle of beer and I was screwed. Screwed from the moment I looked down into those bright blue eyes, eyes that made me feel the kind of things that inspire people to write poetry and shit. And yet I spent half the summer being an asshole, not knowing how to take being around her again after all this time and frustrated by the fact our paths had finally crossed but we were both with other people.
I’m not sure why I haven’t told her we’re signing the record deal today. Maybe it’s because of that question, ‘Are you ready?’
Am I ready to give it my all, to finally have everything I’ve worked for and ever wanted? But it’s not just about me, I keep asking myself is she ready? Is she ready to let go of what happened in the past so we can move forward and make a go of this?
With Abby by my side, I’d be ready to take on the world. She’s all I’ve ever wanted and now, maybe we can finally be together. There will be hurdles to cross and things we need to work around, like the both of us being on the road with work, but they’re just minor details. If we love each other, what difference would the distance make? No matter what, no matter how hard, I’ll do what I have to, so we can have the best of both worlds.
When it comes to Abby, nothing will get in my way, not now I know what it feels like to have her in my arms again, have her in my bed. Six years have gone by without us seeing each other, and I still need her like I need air. That’s got to mean something, it’s got to be worth fighting for.
Looking up at John West, I wonder to myself for the last time, am I ready? Then I make the choice.
“Yeah, we’re ready.”
