“What the fuck are you doing?”
Startled, I turned at the question. Forgetting I was holding the hose, it turned with me, and I misted Henry.
“Shit.” He leaped back, the unexpected shower providing me with an entertaining impromptu dance.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I asked, wondering if stupid questions were going to be the order of the day. I wasn't in the mood but I couldn’t imagine there was ever a mood that happily entertained stupid questions.
He gave me a scan, taking in the dirt encrusted singlet top, grass-stained shorts, and pile of hair that had likely progressed from this morning’s rats nest to something that would now scare small children.
“It’s eight in the fucking morning.”
Finished misting, I clicked off the hose and let it drop at my feet.
“Thanks for the update, Henry.”
I resumed my crouching position and yanked what I assumed was another weed and tossed it at his feet.
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Fuck it. It looks like you’re up. At eight am. Weeding the garden. So I’ll repeat, what the fuck are you doing?”
“Jesus, someone get this man a medal because he just answered his own question.”
I threw another weed and we both watched it hit Peter in the face. Since Peter considered himself Aslan, and the backyard his Narnia, he wrestled with it, chewing savagely until it was a pile of defeated green mush at his feet.
“Har har. Talk, Chook, or I’ll throw you to Peter, and he’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
I paused and took Peter in. Dribbles of green mush lined his chin, his eyes were freakishly fanatical, and his incisors were slightly bared from his hardened battle. “I’ll take my chances.”
I knew I was in for my own battle when Henry dragged a timber deck chair out to the grass and sat down. Reclining comfortably, he ruffled Peter’s head when Peter began chewing viciously on the leg of the chair.
“What happened?”
I swallowed the sick, hollow feeling that crept up my throat, but it didn’t descend. “We’re over.”
“What?” Henry sat forward in shock. “You and Jared?”
“No, me and Ryan Gosling,” I said sarcastically. “Unfortunately, Ryan told me that every day we were together was the greatest day of his life and he'll always be mine. I told him he was a loser and to get lost.”
“Ah fuck,” he muttered.
Ah fuck was right, so I nodded.
He sat back in his chair. “Tell me.”
I thought back to last night. We had played at the White Demon. It was our last show before we went on tour and three weeks after I’d met Matt. Sins of Descent were playing a song, a surprise for the crowd to generate some publicity for the tour. It was a busy night. Word had got out the famous band was in the building. Lines snaked out along the side of the building and down several blocks. Fights broke out, the police were called three times, people were arrested. It was a huge success.
Matt and I were catching up, holed up in the backstage dressing room having a drink. I was nervous. I was about to head out and introduce their band to the frenzied crowd. We stood up from our chat, and Matt gave me a tight hug. One hand rested on my head as I tucked it under his chin, the other around my waist. I returned the hug because I had no romantic feelings towards him at all, and Matt seemed lonely, not lecherous.
Then Jared had opened the door, and there was no other word for how he looked other than hot. His hair had grown again, sweeping over his eyes, and the longer it grew, the lighter the ends got. He was wearing his dark vintage Calvin Klein jeans and a fitted black Led Zeppelin US 1975 tour t-shirt. I loved that shirt. I needed to buy the girl version.
His eyes found us and his brows furrowed together creating a fierce glower. Arms folded over his chest, accentuating his biceps, he stood in a wide legged stance which evoked images of pistols drawn. Jared pissed off was a sight to behold.
Wisely, I pulled myself out of my daze and pushed Matt away, thinking no matter how harmless our situation it still didn’t look good.
Then Jared spoke and that thought became a realisation. “Would you mind getting your fucking hands off my girl,” he growled.
I made an attempt to diffuse the situation. “Jared, it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah?” His voice raised a bit, not sounding like my attempt had performed its intended miracle in the least.
Jared nodded his head towards the door. “Get out,” he said to Matt.
Matt raised his brows at me in a “See? I told you so” expression, but he left, making sure to glare at Jared on his way out the door.
“Jared,” I turned to face him fully. “I’m not Jessica. You’re gonna have to learn to trust me.”
Jared, his lips pressed together in a thin line, did not look delighted about me bringing Jessica into the conversation. “You think I don’t trust you? It’s everyone else I don’t trust. You gotta learn not to put yourself in situations where people take advantage of you.”
“Oh I do, do I?” I folded my arms, copycatting his stance as my snit started to take hold. “You think I’m stupid enough to let people take advantage of me? You think I can’t take care of myself, recognise the real people from the frauds?”
“Baby, you don’t understand―”
“No, you don’t understand, Jared.” I unfolded my arms and reached for the door behind him. “But I don’t have time to explain it to you right now.”
He put a gentle hand on my arm to stop me and spoke softly. “Is this what you’ve been stewing on for three weeks? Because I’ve felt you pulling away from me since the first time you met that asshole. What did he do to make you start shutting down?”
It was true.
Since my chat with Matt, I freaked out as the cold feeling took hold little by little and began closing myself off. It wasn’t even deliberate, simply an instinctual type preservation, yet I could still feel myself doing it.
“Shit,” I muttered. “I have to go.”
It was later, after the show finished, that it came to a head in a manner that was both messy and downright hostile.
The boys, Henry, Jake, Frog, and Cooper were lost to the bar, completely wankered and in no condition to know where they were or if they had a name or even a home. Mac was missing in action, and it appeared so was Jared. I sat myself down at a private table between Matt and Travis with conflicted emotions. Excited, because we had a tour in two days, and edgy because of Jared. I noticed, as I glanced around, female eyes were trained on me with resentment, so I smiled a little smugly. I was sitting at a table with one of the hottest bands of the moment, and Travis, and if I didn’t take a moment to bask in the glory just a little, my female membership card would have been revoked.
Travis leaned over. “What’s going on with you and Jared?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” He turned his head towards the bar to indicate where Jared had now re-appeared, wedged between Henry and two blonde skanks.
“Fuck.” My first instinct was to wade into the pile of bodies and throw a hissy fit big enough to rival a Britney Spears meltdown. Then I realised my reaction was in complete alignment with Jared’s earlier assumption. Would this be our life now? Constantly defending ourselves to each other?
Jesus.
I threw back a shot, set down the empty glass, and picked up my beer chaser.
“I can’t do it,” I admitted to the table.
The table didn’t respond, but Travis did. “Can’t do what?”
“Relationships. Jared and I.” I shook my head and sucked the beer down as though it was last call at happy hour. Realising that I didn’t want to be the only one sober, I put down my now empty beer glass and reached for Travis’s drink.
He stilled my hand and I paused to give him a look that told him I really needed that drink.
“Don’t say that, honey. Don’t.” His lips were tight and he looked unhappy.
/> “It’s only going to get worse,” I declared.
Travis looked even more unhappy. “Evie, don’t cut him loose. You’ll break his fucking heart. Just give yourselves a fighting chance. Talk to him in the morning when alcohol is out of the equation okay?”
Travis ran his fingers through his hair and huffed out a breath, glancing towards the bar and at Jared. “I don’t wanna see him hurt, and watching him shut down over the whole Jessica farce was fucking torture. With you, Jesus, it would be even worse. When you get back, we’ll have Jimmy out of our hair and everything can go back to normal.”
“Even worse?” I repeated.
“Yeah. He never loved her like he loves you.”
“Jared loves me? How do you know?”
“Come on, Evie, it’s him you need to talk to about this shit, not me. Okay?” Travis exhaled loudly and ran his fingers through his hair.
“You know going back to normal after the tour isn’t an option,” I pointed out. “We’re on the verge of signing a major record deal, and we’re about to go on tour with one of the hottest bands alive. If we don’t fuck this up, when we come home people are gonna know us, and life's gonna be different. We’ll be recording more songs, doing interviews, more shows, more tours, music videos.” I waved at the Sins of Descent members crowding around the table laughing it up and drinking. “This shit is our life, and we choose this. We live for this. How does a relationship fit into all that?”
Travis shook his head impatiently at everything I said. “You make it work, Evie. It’s that hard and it’s that simple.”
This time, when I reached for his drink, he didn’t stop me, so I downed it too.
That was about when I felt a hard wall press up behind me, heavy hands coming to rest on my shoulders. I knew it was Jared, not because I had eyes in the back of my head, but because I knew the feel of his hands and the sweet clean scent of his skin, even over the smell of alcohol so strong it damn near seeped from the walls.
He leaned down close to speak and his warm breath against my ear gave me shivers until his words sunk in. “Out of all the chairs in this place, and after what just went down between you and me, I find you sitting here, next to him.”
I half turned in my seat, incredulous, my voice loud enough for the whole table to hear, and I didn’t care one bit. “You aren’t going to tell me where I can and can’t sit now, are you?”
He lifted his arms from my shoulders, straightened, and took a step back. “Damn straight.”
I stood up carefully because three drinks thrown back in rapid succession wasn’t for the weak. Then I raked him over with a scathing glance that was, unfortunately, fuelled by alcohol. The table went silent and rather than embarrass myself by turning into screaming basket of drunk trash, I hissed quietly. “We need to talk.”
Matt, eyeing our conversation with a knowing look, turned to face me in his seat. “I warned you, Evie.”
My eyes widened and I shook my head to indicate he should shut up, but my non-verbal warning was foolishly unheeded.
“This is what fucking happens. Better now than later.” He waved his hand towards Jared dismissively.
Turning towards Matt, Jared unfolded his arms. They were now tensed by his side, fists clenched, knuckles white. It wasn’t looking good for Matt, and before I could open my mouth to speak, Jared beat me to it.
“What the hell did you say to her?”
All eyes at the table swivelled to Matt, including mine. “Nothing she didn’t need to hear.”
I closed my eyes at the reckless statement.
“Let me guess...” Everyone turned back to Jared and his seething tone. “Three weeks ago, you stuck your fucking nose into business that wasn’t your own. You did this by spouting a load of bullshit, and it must have been bullshit because you don’t know me from Adam. Then that bullshit you spewed got her so wound up she shuts down and can’t even talk to me about it. Are you happy now? Is that your mission? To make other people as miserable as you? Because you let that shit fester inside her and sat back for the fallout. Tell me, because I really want to know, exactly what it was that you fucking said to her?” The last part ended on a shout, making me flinch and effectively silencing the tables surrounding our already subdued huddle.
Matt had stood up in the middle of Jared’s rage. “I fucking told her that she’s better off without you!” he shouted back.
That was when Jared had cocked back that clenched fist of his and slammed it in Matt’s face.
“Holy shit!” Henry’s voice startled me out of last night’s recount of events and back to the dirty pile of weeds at my feet. “Where was I when this happened?”
“I told you, Henry. You were wankered at the bar.”
I grabbed the nearby bucket and started shovelling in the pile of weeds. It wasn’t easy because Peter was running through them like it was a sprinkler on a hot day. I paused a moment to admire his joie de vivre.
“Well, what happened after that?”
“I told him we were over and to leave.”
“Did he?”
I nodded because watching him leave made my chest hurt and remembering it made it hurt worse. “Yeah,” I muttered.
“Have you heard from him?”
My phone had remained determinedly silent. No sweet or funny messages from Jared and no angry or appeasing ones either. “No,” I whispered, putting down the bucket and wrapping my arms tightly around my knees.
“Now that answers the question.”
I tilted my head to look at Henry. “What?”
“Of why you’re up at fucking eight in the morning weeding the garden. Right. I’m going to get a coffee, and when I get back, you’re going to tell me what Matt said to you, and we’re going to sort this stupid shit out.”
I picked the bucket back up and went back to shovelling the weeds into it with determination, Peter dancing and barking at my feet. When Henry returned, he shoved a cup of tea in my face and growled at me to “Sit the eff down.”
I sat. Henry sat.
“Talk.”
I talked.
Henry summed it up. “So basically what you’re telling me is that some guy―”
“Matt is not just some guy. He’s got experience in this kind of life.”
“Don’t interrupt me. Some guy tells you the life of a rockstar is a rocky road and all relationships lead down the path to Shitsville. Rather than voice your concerns to Jared, your boyfriend and the man you’ve known for how many years...”
“We were only together for―”
“That wasn’t a question.” Henry's voice steamed over mine. “You listen to some guy you’ve known for like...a day. Then, when the going gets a little hostile, which mind you, I too would punch a guy out if he stuck his nose in my business like that, rather than act like a normal person, you put your silly ‘I’m a fucking idiot’ hat on and tell Jared to get lost?”
I was still riding the tails of anger, but as he spoke, I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach that evolved into a dull thumping ache in my heart. I’d said I’d never hide anything from him, so why didn’t I just talk to him?
“This is the first guy you’ve been with that I actually like, but I don’t think you see him, like really see him. He’s wanted you since the moment you both met, but you were so swamped in your pile of emotional dork bullshit you couldn’t see the light. Now you two finally get your shit together, and not even waiting until you reach the first hurdle, because every relationship has hurdles, you create one out of thin air just so you could dump him before he breaks your heart. You’d be lucky if Jared would take back a lunatic like you. Tell me this, did it work? Because from where I’m standing, you’re already in love with him, so you’ve already done what you were trying to avoid doing and gone and broken your own heart anyway.” Henry leaned forward in his chair as he spoke the words that cut deep. His eyes were hard and angry and directed at me.
I took a gulp of scolding tea, and it burned my tongue. I felt it scorch all
the way down but it didn’t hurt half as much as knowing that Henry was right. My actions were rash and thoughtless and when I’d woken up it felt like Wile E. Coyote had dumped an anvil over a cliff and it had landed on my chest. Is that why I’d done what I did? I thought I’d let go of all the fear, but maybe I hadn’t. Obviously, I hadn’t because the going hadn’t even gotten tough before I got going.
“Fuck,” I muttered.
I dumped my tea on the outdoor table, raced inside to the kitchen, grabbed my phone off the bench, and raced back out to the chair. In a panic, I started to randomly punch numbers in.
“What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” I wailed. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Henry. I need to ring Jared. I need to sort this shit out. What did I do? Henry, God, if you weren’t so wankered last night this wouldn’t have happened.” I pointed my finger accusingly at his chest to make my point. “You weren’t there like a best friend should be while I lost the plot.”
Henry snatched the phone out of my hand, calmly went to my contacts, and dialled Jared’s number before handing it back.
I stood up and started to pace, holding the phone to my ear, feeling my stomach churn.
“I feel sick,” I muttered.
It went to voicemail and I hung up the phone, closing my eyes at the sound of his voice. I already missed hearing it and missed him. Knowing he wasn’t mine anymore and the fact that it was on me made it all the worse.
“Voicemail,” I muttered. “Can’t say what I need to over voicemail. Shit, Henry.”
* * *
Over the next two days, Jared’s phone continually went to voicemail, so I didn’t text. I’d never not been able to get in touch with him. He always, always, made himself available to me. I felt like I should have been stripped naked and marched to the town centre and taken ten public lashings to atone for my sins. I cuddled Peter late into the night while he reclined on his back, snoring heavily and consistently, his furry belly heaving up and down. He liked to keep his little front paws propped over the sheets and his head shoved half under the pillow to avoid any light. He was now the survivor of a broken home. This meant he needed to be spoiled to appease my guilt, but I wasn’t sure how to do that considering he pretty much had run of the house already.