“Can you take off that ridiculous mask? We all know you’re Erik Jones. Erik Devlin Jones.” He rolled his eyes.
Kim’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth. No.
“You told him?” I asked feeling like the ground under my feet crumbled with every passing second.
“No. How could you even think that?” She stood and her gaze was restless with worry.
“I don’t know anything anymore.” I shook my head. I couldn’t trust anything. My own feelings for her must have colored every happy memory we had together. Now all I saw was her laughing with Chagny about me. Every time she left my house, did she go to him? I imagined it—the two of them with bent heads, whispering about my past.
“She didn’t tell me.” Roddy stood too. “You think I’d let somebody I love spend all that time with you without knowing who you really are? I thought it was harmless. I didn’t know you were obsessed with her.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you think.” I went to Kim. When I tried to grab her hands, she pulled them away and wrapped them tightly around her middle. “Kim, I know you’re scared. It’s just you and me, remember?”
She shook her head, no tears. She looked checked out. “I need time to process.”
Roddy stood and came to Kim’s side. “I’m sure if you really want to stay, we could explain everything to the orchestra. Carla and the others think the worst, especially now. But we could make it work, if that’s what you really want. You know I could make that happen for you.”
Kim closed her eyes tightly as his words hit the mark. He knew exactly what he was doing. I couldn’t compete against that. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t use her weaknesses to emotionally manipulate her.
“Kim.” I stepped closer to her. Not too close to crowd her. I didn’t touch her, but I let her remember the heat of our bodies close together. “Please look at me. Tell me what you want.”
“She goes by Christine now. It’s time to let the past go,” Chagny said.
“I swear to God, if you don’t put a muzzle on him …” I shook.
“I need time to think.” She didn’t open her eyes, just brought her balled fists to her temples.
“You need to choose,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“Are you staying or going?” With every second of pressure she was closer to breaking. She was a drum I was tuning too tight, but I couldn’t stop. She needed to say it. She was in charge of her life. Not either of us.
“Roddy,” she said, and my heart fell to the floor. “Can you give us five minutes?”
He nodded and headed for the door, he stopped to kiss her temple on the way out. “I’m here for you. If you need anything, I’ll be right outside.”
By the time he was out of the room my joints hurt from the rigid tension my whole body held.
“If you are going to break it to me gently, don’t bother. Just do it. I’ll find another cellist.”
I shouldn’t have said that. It was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn’t let her see how deeply she’d cut me. How much she’d hurt me. That was her song. That was my soul on paper again for her and she wouldn’t accept it.
She stepped closer. She grabbed my hands.
“Things are happening too fast. I never would have … with you if … Roddy and I are just friends.”
“But you’re leaving with him, aren’t you?” I pulled my hand away. “You’re taking his little tour and you’re going to do whatever he says.”
“Tell me to stay.” She grabbed me tighter, with both hands. “Give me a reason. I cannot destroy someone else’s life. I need to know why you wanted me this whole time.”
She held my gaze, imploring. I knew what she needed to hear. My chest seized. The words wouldn’t come. Hadn’t I been transparent this whole time? Hadn’t she always seen the core of me? I’d shown her my love in the lessons. In the music. I could tell her everything. I could tell her the truth of my love for her, but then what? It would still be me choosing for her. She needed to make a choice about her own life. I wouldn’t be another person telling her what to do. I wouldn’t hamper her growth. I loved her too much.
I memorized her face as I spoke, knowing it would be one of the last times I ever saw it this close. “You want somebody to tell you exactly what you want and need so that if anything ever goes wrong, it’s not your fault. I would never make it that easy on you and you know that. Everything you feel in your heart, everything you know to be true, you’re willing to ignore just because you don’t want to make the wrong choice.” As I said the words, the world faded out of focus around me.
This would be last time I held her hand. I knew it as sure as I knew anything. She closed her eyes and a tear dropped onto our clasped hands.
“You don’t want to have to choose. You want someone to make the choices. You think because you can argue about big ideas and theories, that you are assertive and know what you want, but I have never seen somebody who knows less about themselves.”
She looked up, her beautiful eyes glistening. “You’re right then, I guess.”
My fingertips went numb.
“You think he’s offering you security, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s taking away any chance you had to find yourself again.”
She shook her head slowly. “It’s never been about me.” Her voice was soft as she spoke. She still wouldn’t look at me. “It’s always been about you proving something. About showing the world they were wrong about you.”
Her accusation unnerved me. Rage built up inside me. She had no clue how people took and took and only wanted to be in your life for what you could provide to them.
“You have no idea how it feels to be me. Even you. You changed when you saw my face. I never know if you are Kim or Christine. If you want Devlin for his talent or Erik Jones because of some childhood crush.”
She cringed. “It has never been about your fame. You can’t see that. Your soul just sees darkness and corruption. You’re pushing me away before you even give it a chance.”
“You chose him,” I spat. “You chose him and the tour over your commitments to me.”
“This was never about me,” she said almost to herself. “You told me once that my past was a lesson and not a life sentence. You should have been talking to yourself. If anybody is in the prison of the past, it’s you. You’re missing everything because you hold onto anger so tightly.”
I covered my ears with my hands. She lied. I couldn’t take another word. “Just leave. Go with him. Let yourself forget all that we shared. How you tapped into the truest part of yourself for the music. Forget you were ever here. Forget you ever saw the real me.”
With that, I left the room. There was nothing else to say. The choice was made.
Chapter 35
Without the love, music has no point.
DEVLIN
“Let’s get this over with.” I slammed the door into Andy-Dick’s office.
As soon as this was finished, I was going home. She’d taken everything from me. She’d taken my music and my pride. I’d given her everything.
“Ah, Maestro. Have a seat,” Andy said.
“Just fire me. I’m not sitting down for that,” I said.
My palms itched. My stomach was twisted with anxious energy. I hated being in this position. Why I’d ever thought coming back to this place was a good idea, I would never know.
“Please. Sit.”
There was nothing left in me to care about this place or any other place. Screw this town. Screw the SOOK. I could move on.
But could I? I had burned every bridge I’d ever built. Coming to the SOOK was supposed to be the easiest thing I ever did for my career. I couldn’t even make it work. I really was a loser. Had it ever really been about the SOOK, or had it been about Kim?
“It’s an interesting thing that happened,” Dick said. “You were on thin ice, but in the interest of full disclosure, the drama between you and Miss Day has been great for our sales.”
“T
ickets sales are up. Google searches. Instagram, hashtags. I don’t really get it, but our PR intern tells us these are all good things,” Andy finished.
“Great.” I was so thrilled that the pain that crippled my chest was entertainment.
“Gossip sells tickets. Now, I obviously don’t want to run a business on sensationalism, but right now, leaving wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do,” Dick said.
“And we don’t want it to look like we are condoning this sort of behavior. There would have to be a probational period. A slap on the hand. A few weeks off to cool down a little, after the Fourth of July show, of course. But we still have the September showcase.” Andy pointed to a calendar hanging on the wall.
“I’m not fired?” I asked not believing.
“You are absolutely fired. Unless …”
Dick said, “We still need tickets sold. Something else interesting has been brought to our attention.”
“Turns out you’re a bit of a celebrity. Not sure why you would hide such a past from us. That’s fantastic!” Andy said.
“Perhaps we can come to an arrangement for the September showcase. In addition to your Smokey Mountain Suite, we’ll advertise your famous background. You could play your most famous song, Don’t Look Back,” Dick said.
“A rock concert and a concerto in one.” The other smiled broadly at his own idea.
“I will conduct for the Fourth of July concert. I won’t leave the community hanging like that, but you’re out of your minds if you think I’ll …” I reached for the door. The last thing I would ever do was bring that life into this one. Not a chance in hell I’d play that garbage song. It was bad enough I was even back here.
“Of course we’ll continue the Fourth of July as planned,” Andy simpered.
“The choice is yours for September,” Dick said.
“Take a couple weeks to think about it. It’s summer break anyway. You have the choice. You can come back or you can ruin your career.”
“Great options,” I mumbled. “You know what? Consider my fist to Chagny’s face my official resignation.”
Chapter 36
It’s okay to put yourself first.
KIM
* * *
September
It had been seven weeks since I’d talked to Devlin. Seven weeks since I’d left home. Seven weeks since I’d remembered what it felt like to be Kim Dae. I wasn’t even sure I knew who Christine Day was, either.
The reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was a caricature of a person. A caricature that got a lot of likes, and re-posts, and compliments. Empty clicks from faceless people.
After the Fourth of July concert, which had gone as rehearsed, sans one cellist, Devlin had gone MIA and his concerto had been put on hold indefinitely. There was no bonus cello solo performance. I wasn’t going back to the SOOK if there was no show. I’d committed to help with the showcase, but with Devlin gone, my commitment was voided.
Devlin had made it clear what I was to him. I all but asked him to love me and he had told me he’d replace me with another cellist. I couldn’t let myself think about it or sickness would eat away at me. The numbness of tour was the way to go. Never had I itched more for those days of Jethro, for the drugged-out haze of life.
Roddy had already booked several stops throughout the Southeast playing local theaters that seated around three hundred. Tonight was the last show of the summer tour, and I was grateful. I was numb and empty. When asked if that was what I wanted, I simply nodded. I had no opinion. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to hurt anybody else.
Roddy assured me that he was working on more bookings for the fall and soon we would be filling stadiums. Stadiums of people wanting to see Christine Day. What a life. The crowds were pretty decent even now. He’d done a good job of taking care of my social media presence. When I flipped through the pictures on Instagram, I didn’t recognize myself. There weren’t any traces of Kim Dae. It was Christine Day. Long flowing hair, fancy electric cello, false lashes, and heavy makeup. She was beautiful, but she was a different person.
It wasn’t an easy life. I worked nonstop. The distraction helped push aside the constant ache in my heart. The countryside blurred into hotel rooms and stages. I was grateful though, and thanked the venues and the fans. Many people dreamed of this life. And Roddy, bless his heart, he took care of everything. The fans grew with every show. It was all happening very fast, but he wasn’t surprised.
“That’s how it happens nowadays. That’s why you have to keep up with it. You’re doing great,” he’d said.
A few times he’d tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested in him that way. I made it clear before ever leaving on tour, we’d be in separate rooms and I was not his girlfriend. I was a business partner. His only response was that he was happy to go slow. He’d wait for me. The truth was, I felt nothing. This was how I felt before Devlin. Before he turned up in my life and turned everything upside down. Now, every sporadic memory of happiness was linked with a man I fought to forget.
I missed my parents and their weird ways. I missed my girls in the SWS and Erin. I missed swimming. I even missed the symphony. I didn’t miss Carla—I wasn’t that out of it. I felt myself getting stir-crazy even with all the moving around we were doing. It was the same routine even if it was different every two or three days.
We were at a hotel in—I wasn’t even sure what city we were in. I was tired already. I loved playing and meeting people, but this was draining. I was set to go on stage again in another hour for the last show of this tour. I was too tired to even lift my head from my bed.
“Knock, knock,” Roddy said as he peeked in his head through our shared door. Hadn’t that been locked? “Hope you’re decent.”
I waved from the bed. “Hey.”
“What are you doing? We gotta get going soon.” His gaze moved over my prone form. “Your hair isn’t done.”
“I thought I could put it up tonight. I keep pulling it when I play.”
“Oh, that’s frustrating. Man, I totally understand why you’d want it up. But—” He made this face like he was going for pained? Concerned? “But you have your brand now. When you’re a household name, we can play around with your style, but for now we have to keep a real consistent look. Plus, it looks so beautiful when it’s down and flowing.”
I sat up and dragged my feet to the bathroom. I began the hour-long routine of doing my hair. Roddy stood in the doorway, smiling as he leaned against the frame.
“What?” I asked.
He was watching me in the mirror as I pinned up different sections of hair. “You’re just so beautiful.”
I smiled back, but my reflection showed it didn’t reach my eyes. “Thank you.”
He said it a lot, especially, and almost pointedly, more often when I was done up.
Every time he did, it spurred the image of me tired and undone with Devlin smiling down at me. Had Devlin ever told me I was beautiful? I couldn’t recall. And yet I’d never felt more beautiful than I had when he smiled at me with soft eyes, or fire in them as I stretched over him. That was when I’d felt most perfect.
My stomach soured and I pushed the thoughts away. Over these last few weeks there were so many times my mind pulled up memories from our brief time together. Each time, I examined the scene in a different light. I forced myself to see it through the lens of reality, not the rosy hue of sentimentality. I knew that I was a muse. He would offer me no more.
Roddy stayed in the room while I got ready. I felt like I was being checked up on. I got dressed and suddenly felt like I couldn’t take a moment more of this life. I knew I should be grateful but …
I couldn’t do this. I shook with the nerves that came with voicing my opinion. My outfit was tight and revealing. My breasts were pushed up and my hair was long and loose around my shoulders. My eyelashes were as fake as all the makeup covering my face. Who was this person? Could I just go home and curl up in a ball?
“I don’t think I c
an do this,” I said to Roddy. My voice must have sounded as panicked as I felt because he immediately came to my side.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He brushed my cheeks. “Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your pretty face.”
“I can’t do this. This isn’t—” Panic crushed in on me all at once.
This wasn’t what? The words were so close to the surface.
“I don’t want this life. After this tour is done, after tonight’s show, I’m going home.” I said on a rush. I couldn’t believe it. I said it and I knew it. I knew in that moment that while this was a wonderful life and so many people would be happy to have it, it wasn’t what I wanted.
Roddy wrapped his arms tight around me. “No, shh. You’re tired. It’s too much too soon.”
“No, I don’t want—”
“Listen. You need to relax. I put too much on you too soon. Try this.”
Out of his pocket, he pulled a small, unmarked prescription bottle. My heart raced at the sight of it.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s all natural. An herbal supplement. My doctor told me about it when I wasn’t sleeping. It’ll calm your nerves.”
My hands reached for the bottle as my mind screamed no. But a little part of me wanted it. I’d taken a lot of pills before I’d detoxed, all sorts of shapes and sizes and colors. I couldn’t remember what any of them were or what they did besides bring oblivion. This pill could bring freedom. I could let go. I’d been holding on so tightly to a life I didn’t want. I’d worked so hard to make it fit. If I took this pill maybe I could just exist.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I said.
“It’s over the counter. It may be a placebo for all I know. No pressure. But it will help you relax.” He cupped a hand around my head and pulled me in to place a soft kiss on my forehead.
I grew antsy. I wanted to push him away. I felt a scream trying to tear its way out of my throat. Why? I had no right to be angry or restless. I chose this. Or rather, I let myself be led into this life by my lack of choice.
The Treble With Men Page 23