Love and The Liffey

by Sarah Beth James

  Anger was coming off of me in waves. “The friends are what finally lost youse the guy?” he asked.

  I started shredding a piece of seaweed just for something for my hands to do as I stared into the ocean, unable to face him. “No, in the end, the man he cheated with came back. And wanted us all three to become friends. I didn’t want that; I knew how it would end. We talked about trying again, a fresh start as lovers and me going on the next tour. We finally sorted through all the baggage, and we were happy so happy together. So much so, I stupidly let his ex back into our lives and our movie nights. I tried to make room for his friend. To trust that we were secure enough he would never cheat again, not when we were only just talking about getting back together!”

  Adrian sighed. “The asshole got drunk and cheated?”

  I laughed bitterly. “That’s the worst thing, he wasn’t even drunk. I made a rule to help us work something out. They would have nights together to do whatever as friends without me and without telling me where they were going. As long as I had my nights alone with him, too, without them asking. It was hard, I was jealous of them, but I tried to stick to it. Then there were the nights we all agreed to hang out together and try to not kill each other. I thought it respectful to all parties concerned. Only I did, however. God, I’d kill for a beer right now.” Tears flowing freely down my face.

  “It was a respectful plan; I don’t see why it didn’t work,” he answered, coming to rub my shoulders. Waiting for me to find the strength to continue if it was possible.

  “It worked for a few weeks, then they started ditching me to go out together or even worse forcing me to spend time with only both of them. If I said no, then they would walk out and say I was unreasonable and have the day together. He took my place on the tour without even asking me. I was all packed and waiting to go, only for my ride to never turn up. They refused to return my calls for weeks. I stood up for myself when I found a picture online of them both together on tour. Their posts about ‘date nights’, all while he was still hinting he wanted to get back with me. It got toxic really fast. They called me a jealous bitch, an overly dramatic whore, poisonous and crazy and so many other things. Short of it, they decided I needed to be locked up. That I was the only one with a problem, they did no wrong. Just bat shit crazy Lily having a mood swing! I should understand they were just particularly good friends. And then, I walked in on them in bed together on my birthday. They stood me up on my birthday to fuck. That’s how little either of them cared about me. All through those months, all the arguments and fights. They made it clear it was one hundred percent my fault and mine only. Constantly telling me they did nothing wrong.”

  Adrian pulled me into a tight embrace as the tears came heavier and I finally broke down over it all. I collapsed into his arms; I had nothing left. “It is not your fault, it was theirs. The drink, the drugs, the fame, the fake friends. If ye don’t have a strong mind and a good grounding of friends, it is impossible to resist the temptations. No one person could ever carry the weight of all of that for him. It wasn’t the fact that ye were not enough for him, he was never enough to resist the temptations. Youse did all that you could. I promise you, baby, none of this was your fault. Yes, youse fought back, yes it got toxic, but it never would have if they respected your boundaries and damn well made it work!” He pulled me down to sit on his lap, watching the ocean as I cried out years’ worth of agonies.

  Chapter 6

  Adrian’s POV

  The meal was a quiet affair, Lily was clearly drained by all the baggage she released earlier. Acting like she was embarrassed and didn’t know how to act around me now. She lay on the sofa under a blanket, watching the flames of the open fire as I cleaned the plates. Both of us sipping wine in silence. The way I felt after hearing everything he had done to her, I felt like draining the entire wine wrack myself. The radio playing music in the background, the DJ said, “And next, The Script with their new release ‘Run Through Walls’.” I could see her starting to tear up at the song’s lyrics. “Ye okay darling?” I asked.

  She sighed. “Once upon a time…”

  I nodded. “He was like that for you?”

  She sighed again. “The type of friendship I will probably never trust anyone enough to have again.”

  “I would like to try and be that kind of friend for ye, if you will let me,” I offered. “I never want to hurt youse.”

  “Yeah, he used to say that, too, and look where that got me: destroyed. Just like my family did, and every so-called friend I met along the way. I will never open my heart again,” she muttered to herself. Finding the bottle of wine to refill her glass as far as she could without it spilling.

  I kissed her forehead. “I can wait until you trust me, for as long as you require.” I fetched my laptop, dropping it on the sofa next to her. “Why don’t ye check in on your life? Let people know you are okay. There must be a few people who are worried about youse.”

  Lily did not seem convinced, but she took the machine as I continued washing up. Giving her privacy to check her messages. The next thing I knew, there were raised voices and the front door slammed. I rushed to check the computer, to see a Skype box full of messages, none of them nice and all from that monster.

  Hello whore, who are you fucking for money now?

  Wait until he realises you are nothing but a filthy little bitch who will fuck anything for a dollar!

  Why don’t you just kill yourself and save us all the drama of you being around?

  The world would be a far better place without you in it.

  You were a shit fuck anyway.

  Those nudes you sent me made me want to throw up, fat bitch!

  You will never be enough for anyone, just die already.

  “Oh, no,” I muttered, rereading the last one three times.

  Everyone would be better off if you were dead. Then I could enjoy my relationship without your fucking dramas you bitch.

  You are a fucking dead man when I get to you -- Adrian, I typed back, slamming the machine shut before running after her. She would be somewhere by the Liffey, I felt that in my bones. Hell, it was right outside the damn door. But at seventy-eight miles long, even just cutting it down to the few miles of the town centre there was little chance of finding her in time. But I had to try.

  Running the banks as fast as I could, my lungs began to burn. I had to stop, pausing under a streetlight near where we first met, I heard a splash. She was in the water; I didn’t even stop to think. Just ripped off my jacket and jumped in after her. Sweet Jesus, was it cold! She picked a good spot, isolated. No one would hear anything if I shouted. It was all up to me. Good thing I was a strong swimmer, all those years of drumming before I became lead singer paid off as I moved my way over to her. She tried to push me away, but she was weak from the cold. I dragged her over my shoulder in some sloppy fireman’s carry as I pulled us up out of the water. Up some rusted old ladder allowing access for emergency services.

  I dropped her onto the street, watching her cough up black water from her lungs. “What the hell were youse thinking? No man is worth losing your life over. No man!” I shouted.

  Lily couldn’t even make eye contact, she looked completely broken. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t take it anymore.”

  “Oh, little Lily, my little Lily.” I hugged her close, shaking and not just from the cold. “Let me help youse Lil, let your walls down and let me help you. Please! You need it. Let someone take care of ye for once. Please, darling.”

  She nodded slowly, burying her head in my shoulder. I could see in her mind the struggle to try to trust someone. I wasn’t sure if she found a reason to or if she was just so desperate for something to hang onto as she snuggled into my arms. I could feel myself already growing more attached to her than was safe for me. I was only here to help her move on and start again, right?

  Lily let me lift her up, wrapping her in my still dry coat to carry her home. She was asleep long before I got her back into the flat. Tucking
her into my own bed where I could watch over her after stripping off both our wet things. Turning up the heating and piling blankets on to try and stop her from catching a chill if it wasn’t already too late. Before taking a long, hot shower myself to try and clear the ice from my bones. I couldn’t stop myself thinking about those messages I had seen; it couldn’t be the first time by her reaction. How could anyone message those disgusting things?

  A bottle of neat whisky later, I knew exactly what I had to do. Fumbling a little with the touch screen on my phone, I called that man.

  “What the hell do youse think you are doing sending those messages? No, I don’t care what she’s done to ye or what she has said. No, there isn’t a single goddamn reason to speak to anyone like that, not ever. No, she doesn’t fucking deserve it, shut up! Ye need a good fucking beating, you cunt. Youse are destroying her! Oh, she won’t do it, huh? Really? You honestly think she is just attention seeking and won’t really kill herself? Then explain to me in simple terms why I just pulled her out of the fucking Liffey, ye fucking knob sack! Oh, cat got ye tongue now, huh? You claimed to have loved her. Well, fucking get clean and think about what ye did to her. You need to get your lazy fucking whore ass to rehab before ye lose everything and everyone. Including your oh so precious fame!”

  I disconnected the call, throwing my phone across the room. Likely smashing the fragile smartphone screen. I barely cared; I could not stand the entitlement of ‘stars’ who thought they were better than everyone damn else who lived! Doing whatever and often whomever it took to get an extra zero on their paycheck. They destroyed so many in the process, but as long as they got what they wanted, it was okay. That young girl was just collateral damage to him. He would probably barely even think of her, too drugged up on whatever the latest designer drug was and the fawning of the groupies the management dragged along to keep the stars ‘well oiled’ and fit for the stage. It made me sick to even think about it. About how poor Lily was used and then thrown away. It would never happen again. I would damn well make sure of it!

  Chapter 7

  Adrian’s POV

  I woke in the morning aching all over from the icy plunge added with sleeping in a chair to watch over my charge. When I retrieved my phone, the cracked screen was still useable. I found I had over two dozen abusive messages from her ex. My first call was to Brad about it, my second to my legal team to take it further for both myself and her, the third was to my band and the fourth to step up the next few days to work around her so I could make sure she was okay. By the time she stumbled into the living room, dressed in what looked like the last of her clothes by the patchwork of mixed colours she was wearing. I was finishing up making pancakes, sipping at some very extreme black coffee to sober up.

  “Washing machine’s there, help yourself.” I commented.

  I plated up the food as she stumbled back to her room to get her laundry and feed the machine. Before dragging herself up to sit at the breakfast bar sipping the hot chocolate I had just placed there.

  “I am sorry,” she said quietly.

  I kissed her cheek as I put the pancakes in front of her. “Nothing to be sorry about, that guy is a total fuckwit.”

  She ate a few bites of her meal before pausing to ask. “How do you know what he is like?”

  Oh crap! I nearly panicked forgetting she didn’t know that I knew him. For a moment I almost wanted to admit the truth before I came up with a reasonable answer. “I saw the messages when youse left the tab open.”

  “Oh,” she answered, digging into her food. “It isn’t even his real name. He has like eight different social media accounts and gaming ones to hide from the fans and often from me. Most of them are based around anime characters from shows he enjoys.” She sighed again. “He forgets who he really is. Since the fame, it is like the man I fell in love with is dead, he always said I was enough just being me. Even if I wasn’t famous, too. That I would always have a huge place in his life, but he always chose the famous over me any chance he gained.”

  “Then he is a fucking asshole who is too drunk and high to realise everything he has lost in ye yet. Too much of that crap in his system to know how he really feels. When he eventually comes down from that high, he will see what he lost,” I commented.

  “And then it will be too fucking late,” she said firmly. “He doesn’t get another chance to hurt me. He doesn’t get to come anywhere near me again. Not ever!”

  “That’s my girl!” I said proudly. “So, I have to go into a rehearsal today with the band and youse are coming with me.”

  “You want me to meet the entirety of The Pumpkin Spices?” she nearly screamed.

  “Well yeah, youse are my friend and they are my band.”

  “A band that’s sold one hundred million records and had nine number one albums in the last ten years. Including six of the best-known songs of the last eighteen months in music. And you just want me to go and meet them like I am a somebody.” She freaked out. “And here I am dressed like a hobo.” She picked at her clothing in frustration.

  “Someone sounds like a little bit of a fangirl for my band,” I laughed.

  She blushed. “I may have heard the odd song, like on the radio or something.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well just don’t go all stalker on me and we are good. Now, grab ye bag and I will go buy ye some clothing. We can divert on the way as it means so much to you.”

  “I can’t take your money; you gave me so much already,” she objected.

  “It’s just a set of fucking clothes, get over it,” I snapped, my head starting to ache again. I seriously regretted drinking all that whisky.

  She shrunk back in her chair as I raised my voice.

  “Damn it, sorry. I forgot you hate raised voices. I am just hung over, tired and do not want to go to rehearsal today, but I have to. And sometimes that whole ‘show must go on’ crap gets to me, but I shouldn’t take that out on ye. Sorry.”

  She shrugged.

  “Grab your bag, please?”

  She did and not for the first time, I wondered why she carried such a large handbag everywhere. It was more like a shoulder bag and looked heavy. We walked quietly down the street as I tried to let the cool weather fade my headache. I stopped at the nearest clothes shop, waiting while she found a pair of jeans, sweater, and a band shirt that she liked. Along with a cute pair of low-heeled ankle boots with studs. While she got changed into them, I dropped a few other things into the basket that I saw her looking at. If what my source said was true, and she had no home anymore, she would be needing some more belongings to set up wherever she wanted to.

  She did look smart and quite sexy as she came back up to me, dragging her hair into a plait as we walked down the street. Me carrying all of the bags, and yes, that handbag was extremely heavy! We were running late, but I couldn’t help taking a detour down one of the long streets full of buskers. I could see the sheer delight on her face, a far cry from the broken mess of the night before, but I was hyper aware that the broken mess could return at any moment.

  We came to stop in front of a young pianist playing a mixture of contemporary songs. “How the hell is a piano on the street?” she exclaimed.

  “This is Grafton Street darling,” I answered, as if it explained everything. At her blank expression, I continued. “All the acts start on Grafton Street. We all busked here from childhood. Including me, in all weathers, trying to make enough cash to pay my rent until my career took off. This is the home of every struggling artist in Dublin.”

  The young artist tipped his hat at me, noting his special onlookers. Moving on to play The Pumpkin Spices’ latest hit. I smiled at him; it took balls to cover a song in front of the man who wrote it. I dropped a small wad of cash into the man’s case before tugging Lily down the street. Listening to all the bustle of the people passing by mixed with various music. I tucked her into the Rock and Roll museum, ignoring the fact I was walking straight past a huge screen with both my face and name in lights.

>   “Why are we going to a museum?” she asked. “I thought you had to work?”

  “Good afternoon, young lady, and welcome to the Irish Rock and Roll museum, how can I help you today?” a man asked, smiling at her before pausing when he saw me stood there. “Oh, good afternoon sir, the band are setting up downstairs and everything is set to your liking. Let me take you down, sir.” He paused before looking back at Lily. “Is there something I can do for you, young lady?”

  “She is with me and the band,” I answered firmly.

  That seemed to satisfy the newcomer, who led us down the corridors filled with discs and memorabilia from various artists. To small rooms downstairs, letting us into one with a small set up of instruments. “This is a rehearsal building; upstairs is the button factory stage where most of us had our first big gigs in town. And across the street is the recording studios. They make a little extra cash doing tours and showing off the memorabilia they collected. This is one of Dublin’s most popular attractions. Every single one of our albums was recorded here,” I informed her.