Sing For Me by Rachel Schurig
Eva
The morning after Will Ransome stomped all over my heart, I do the thing I always do when shit gets rough—I call my friends.
Caleb is on set all day and Luke is in New York, but Sosie, Luke’s wife Vicky, Geoff, and, of course, Marissa all agree to come right away. They make plans for copious amounts of take-out and junk food, agree we can watch as many bad sci-fi shows as I want, and promise to be over ASAP.
And the best part? They don’t ask me any questions. That part will come later, I’m sure. But I know they’ll do whatever they can to help me feel soothed and loved before they start the grilling.
When the doorbell rings only a few minutes later, I shake my head. Apparently Geoff, who lives the closest, wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be here “in a sec.”
Marissa ran out to stock up on ice cream and potato chips so I go downstairs to let him in myself, knowing it has to be one of my friends because the gate never buzzed and they’re the only people who have the code.
Almostthe only people. I forgot for a minute that Dennis has it too, and he’s the one standing on my porch when I open the door.
He immediately frowns when he sees me. “You aren’t dressed.”
I blink at him. “Dressed for what?”
A flash of impatience crosses his face. “Your doctor’s appointment.”
Shit. With the total annihilation of my heart last night, I forgot all about the appointment. I didn’t sleep another minute after Will left, crying on and off throughout the night, and a shower certainly hasn’t been on the agenda this morning. I probably look like total shit, and the thought of leaving the house right now makes me feel sick.
“We have to reschedule it,” I say, leaning against the doorframe. “I just can’t today.”
He opens his mouth to argue but then he seems to take me in, really take me in. The pajamas and the red rimmed eyes and what I’m sure is a rat’s nest of hair on top of my head. He frowns. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, God. I’m still feeling raw enough that the very question is enough to make my eyes well with tears.
“Will broke up with me,” I mumble, wiping at my tender cheeks.
“Oh, shit.” He pushes into the house and slings an arm around my shoulder “I’m sorry, Eva. Let’s go upstairs and I’ll make you some tea.”
I would laugh if I wasn’t so close to sobbing. Dennis has never been the softest guy, and the thought of him clucking around my kitchen taking care of me is comical. But I certainly appreciate the sentiment, so I lean into him as he guides me up the stairs.
“You want to talk about it?” he asks, depositing me onto a stool at the kitchen island. He tosses his keys and the day planner and folders he was carrying down on the counter in front of me and heads to the stove to fill the kettle.
“I guess he didn’t like me as much as I thought,” I mumble, rubbing at my dry eyes. God, I’ve gone around and around on this so many times and I’m still having a hard time trying to figure out what, exactly, had happened last night. He’d been pissed to wake up and find me on the phone with another guy and even when I explained, he’d been downright nasty about it. But really, things had been off even before that—he’d been clearly upset when he found out his brother had called me. Hell, he’d been in a dark mood for the past week. But he hadn’t completely flipped out until I pushed him to open up.
“I can’t imagine that’s true.” Dennis rummages around in my cupboards until he finds a teabag and plops it into a mug of hot water. I try not to think about how hard Vicky would wince if she saw that—Vick’s mom is British and the girl can wax on for hours about the proper way to make a cup of tea.
A pang of longing goes through my chest. I want her here. I want my friends. Dennis is fine, he’s always had my back when it comes to my career and he obviously cares about me. But it just isn’t the same. I cross my fingers that Marissa will hurry back from the store.
“I should have known this was going to happen,” I mutter.
Dennis makes a vague noise of agreement and I look up from my tea to see him typing something on his phone. He finishes and looks up, giving me an apologetic smile. “Just letting Dr. Kyler know that we’ll reschedule.”
“Okay. Thanks.” I honestly would be happy to just cancel the entire thing. The last thing I want to do right now is start thinking about returning to work. On the other hand, maybe immersing myself in something would help me to not feel like I want to crawl out of my skin, which has been a primary symptom of my heartbreak since Will left.
I had thought recovering from second and third degree burns and a crushed hip had been painful but in this moment, I’m pretty sure I’d do that all over again to not have to feel the pain of losing him.
I’m in love with Will. Despite how careful I tried to be since we met, insisting we be friends first, trying to take it slow. None of it mattered. Somewhere between the night at the gala and watching him play guitar at that campfire, I fell for him. And the realization that it didn’t mean as much to him, that he didn’t think we were worth fighting for—it takes my breath away, the pain is so bad.
“Eva?” I look up to see Dennis peering at me, a concerned look on his face. “You look really pale.”
“This sucks, Dennis,” I whimper, rubbing at my aching chest. “It really, really sucks.”
“You know what I think?” He leans his elbows onto the kitchen island, studying my face. “I think you should be channeling this shit.”
“Channeling it?”
He nods, his face a careful mix of encouragement and sympathy that I can’t help feeling isn’t entirely genuine. “That’s what the great artists do, babe. They take heartbreak like this and they turn it into art.”
Oh, sure. Because what I really feel like doing is taking my broken heart and bleeding it out into a fucking pop song that some suit at the label will inevitably want me to remix into a hot dance track.
I rub my forehead. “I think I’d rather be alone right now, Dennis.”
Of course, at that moment, Marissa calls out from downstairs. “I come bearing all the fat and carbs I could get my hands on.”
His eyebrow goes up. “Alone, huh?”
I wince. “Come on, Dennis. You know you don’t want to sit here with us and watch my sci-fi crap for the next ten hours.”
He laughs, but there’s something pinched to his expression. And it only grows when Marissa reaches the top of the stairs. “What are you doing here?” she says immediately, her tone every bit as biting as it always is when addressing him.
“I was trying to be a good friend, Marissa,” he bites right back. “You’re not the only one who cares about her”
I frown up at him, taking in his flashing eyes and tight features. That’s not exactly right, is it? He hadn’t even known about the break-up before he came. He was only here to get me for the doctor’s visit.
“Can I speak with you for a moment?” Marissa asks through teeth clenched so tightly I’m surprised she hasn’t cracked a molar. Dennis narrows his eyes at her and I look back and forth between the two. They seem to be having some unspoken argument but finally Dennis huffs and then strides across the room where the two of them fall into an aggressively whispered conversation, with plenty of sharp hand gestures.
There’s a familiar alert sound and I reach over to pick up my phone without even thinking. I stop short when I realize the phone is missing my blue case. This phone is on the stack of folders Dennis brought—his phone. I move my hand away but something on the screen has me pausing. My name.
Glancing up to make sure he’s still occupied by his argument with Marissa, I nudge the phone closer and peek at it. The lock screen is up, but the phone must be set to show the first few lines of each incoming message. The one displayed right now is what caught my attention.
JeffClbHnd:Thanks for tip. Cause of breakup? When’s Eve leaving house?
My throat is suddenly very dry. I stare down at the phone, my limbs feeling strangely watery. Thanks for tip. Cause of breakup?
Breakup. A tip. I study the caller ID more closely. ClbHnd. Could that stand for Celebrity Hound, that tabloid that’s been writing shit about me and Will every week since our relationship leaked?
“Dennis.” My voice sounds kind of strange, faraway. “What is this?”
He looks away from Marissa and I can see anger and irritation in every line of his face. When our eyes meet, he seems to purposefully rearrange his features into something more neutral. “What’s what, babe?”
The old endearment had always felt slimy to me, such a cliché of shady entertainment industry players. Right now, it makes my blood boil.
“This text message, Dennis.” I’m surprised by how loud my voice is. How sharp. For someone who spent the last eight hours crying, I sound pretty fierce. “Are you tipping off reporters about my breakup?”
His face pales, just slightly, features going slack for a brief second before his condescending, smarmy expression falls back into place. “What are you talking about, Eva?”
I point at the phone. “Thanks for the tip,” I read out. “Cause of breakup?” I swallow. “When’s Eve leaving house?”
He strides back across the room and I’m struck with the strongest urge to grab the phone so he can’t cover it up. “I just let my assistant know so she could arrange to have flowers sent over,” he snaps. “I was trying to be nice.”
Before the words are even out of his mouth, the screen lights up again. I do grab it, determined to see whatever else is coming.
I almost wish I hadn’t.
Got approval to run story. Sending photogs to house/tattoo parlor.
Holy shit. He really did it. He tipped off this reporter about my breakup and now they’re sending paparazzi here.
I stare up at him, shock and hurt muddling my thoughts. “You did this?”
His jaw clenches. “Listen, Eva. This business—”
“Hang on.” Something else has just occurred to me. “You knew we were having breakfast that morning we were first confronted by photographers. I told you.” I stare at the man who discovered me, who got me signed and started my career. His expression is twisted with annoyance, a fine sheen of sweat dotting his forehead, his hair slick with product, tan a shade too orange. All of a sudden, I feel like I’m seeing him for the first time. “You’re the one who told them we were dating in the first place.”
“You fucking asshole,” Marissa snarls behind him.
“Hey,” Dennis says, holding up his hands. “You didn’t give me a lot of choice, you know?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He gestures around the room, sneering. “You’ve been hiding away in this house for more than a year, Eva. You refuse to do appearances. You refuse to record—”
“She’s recovering!” Marissa yells, but Dennis is leaning closer, his eyes narrowed on me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look at me with so much disdain, the usual ingratiating, flattering expression he always wears for me peeled away for once.
“What you’re doing is throwing away your career,” he snaps. “I am desperately trying to keep you relevant. Keep people interested in you. Even though you give me nothing in return.”
“You dick,” Marissa hisses.
“You think music careers last forever?” he continues. “You think people are going to give a shit about you in six months? You keep behaving this way, hiding out here, licking your wounds, acting like a fucking child, and you just watch how fast it all disappears.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Marissa says. “I’m going to rip your arms off and use them to beat your smarmy, greasy little face.”
He rolls his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. This isn’t personal. It’s business.”
“It’s personal for me,” I whisper. “It’s my career, Dennis. My injury. My life.”
“You’re fine,” he shoots back. “Your doctors are coddling you. When you go and see Dr. Kyler, he’ll tell you. There’s no reason you can’t work.”
“I already told you, she’s not fucking seeing that quack,” Marissa yells, so loudly I jump a little. I’ve seen my girl pissed on my behalf before, but this is a whole different level of rage. She looks ready to call up her armies and burn his life to the ground.
“She’ll see him if I say so,” Dennis shoots back, whirling on her. “You seem to think you have some kind of power Marissa, but what you keep forgetting is that you’re a fucking PA! You pick up the laundry and make sure her fridge is stocked. I do the real work. I’m in charge here.”
“Actually,” I say, surprised by how steady my voice sounds when the rest of me is shaking. “I’m in charge.”
He spins to face me, eyes narrowed. “You hired me to oversee your career, sweetheart. And that’s what I’m doing.”
“I did hire you,” I agree. “Which means I can also fire you.”
The room goes still. Dennis stares at me for a long moment, completely motionless. Finally, he rears back, rolling his eyes. “I have a contract, babe. You can’t fire me.”
“Pretty sure that contract includes an NDA,” I tell him. “And leaking my personal info to the press is going to be a big problem for my lawyers.”
He glares at me for a long moment before his features relax, eyes softening. “Eva, I think you’re a little overwhelmed right now. Obviously this breakup was tough on you. Why don’t you enjoy your day with your friends and we can regroup later.”
“Oh, fuck off, Dennis,” Marissa snaps. “She just handed you your ass, you prick, get a clue.”
I can tell he’s fighting to keep from going off on her but he keeps his expression neutral as he faces me. “I’ll call you when you’re feeling better.”
“Tell her about the doctor.” Marissa would sound smug if she wasn’t so obviously furious. “Go on, tell her.”
“As I said,” he begins, jaw clenched tight, and Marissa pushes past him to join me at the breakfast bar. “We’ll talk later—”
“Kyler isn’t even an orthopedic surgeon,” she tells me. “I looked into him. He’s a fucking primary care physician. He can’t even practice at a hospital—he’s not board certified.”
“Dr. Kyler is a highly respected—” Dennis begins and Marissa holds a hand up in front of his face, silencing him.
“I talked to some of my contacts about this guy, Eva. He has a reputation in the industry. He was just going to pump you full of drugs to make you feel like you could get through the performances. He isn’t qualified to actually help you at all.”
I feel sick to my stomach. Dennis was seriously willing to endanger my health to get me back on stage just a few months sooner? But somehow, that’s not even the worst part.
“You knew about my flashbacks, Dennis,” I say, staring at him, trying to find some shadow of the guy I’d trusted for so long. “You knew how hard it was for me to be in the middle of a crowd like that. But you sent those photographers after me anyhow.” I swallow. “And when you saw my reaction—saw that I could barely leave the house—you thought it was a good idea to do it again, today. Knowing I was a mess about Will. Knowing it would send me right back into that shitty place. You didn’t care.”
He opens his mouth to speak but I am done.
“Get the fuck out of my house. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”
He stares at me for a long moment before he finally shakes his head. “You’ll be hearing from mine as well,” he snaps, then grabs his shit from the table and stomps out of the room and down the stairs.
Marissa and I wait in silence until the front door slams. She runs over to the stairway and peeks down, confirming that he’s really gone, then turns back to me, a huge grin on her face.
“Why in the hell are you smiling?” I ask. “That was brutal.”
“No, that was badass.” She darts back to the kitchen and throws her arms around me. “I am so fucking proud of you.”
The minute her arms go around me, all the emotion of the last eight hours crashes into me, and I start to cry.
“Oh, sweetie.” She rubs my back and I almost laugh at the immediate switch from fierce Marissa dropping f-bombs to the gentle friend now soothing me and murmuring comforting words in my ear. “It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s really ridiculous, you know,” I gulp out. “I just set fire to the longest professional relationship of my life and the only thing I’m really upset about is getting dumped by a guy I dated for a few weeks.”
“We both know it was a hell of a lot more than the time you were technically dating,” she murmurs. “It’s okay to be upset about this, Eva. It’s okay to want to mope and cry and wallow with your friends.” Her arms tighten. “But you’re going to be okay. You’re the strongest person I know.”
I do laugh at that. “Oh, yeah, that’s me. Look at how strong I am.”
“Hey.” She pulls back to glare at me but I barrel ahead.
“Everything Dennis said is true. I have been holed up here for more than a year licking my wounds. I have been childish.”
“No.” Her voice is every bit as sharp as it had been with Dennis. She’s pissed, I realize, but this time the anger is directed at me. “You’re brave, damn it. You went through something hard, Eva! Something really hard! And yeah, it took you some time to deal with it. And maybe you had times where you wanted to hide. But you never cut off your friends. You never isolated yourself or gave up on your recovery.” She shakes her head. “You even started dating, Eva. That’s huge! How can you not see how much you’ve grown in the last few months?”
My face crumples again. “But it wasn’t enough. He still left.”
Her expression is sympathetic and fierce all at once. “But that’s not your fault, sweetie. You can’t hold yourself responsible for anyone else’s actions. You tried. You were willing to fight.” She squeezes my upper arms. “And that is absolutely something to be proud of.”