Aly and I rustled to get ready. I switched out my sweats for some jeans and Aly plucked out a red lacy pair of panties, slipping them on, along with her black ballerina flats, and tied her hair up in a knot. She kept shaking her head, trying not to laugh when she stared at me. I didn’t look that bad with a shirt on. Aly took out her make-up concealer and dabbed it on the exposed red suction marks. She sighed heavily and shrugged. “It’ll have to do.”
At 11:00 PM, the August night was at a perfect temperature. We strolled along the nearly deserted Central Park West – a long walk would do us good. I chose to take her to Robert at the top of The Museum of Arts and Design over at Columbus Circle. They always had some jazzy musician playing, and served a full menu late into the night. We took a table overlooking the park and ordered a bottle of wine. We hadn’t had a chance to really talk. She’d mentioned how bummed she was that I’d been communicating with Sienna and not her, and it made my stomach sink.
“For the record, she called me first and asked me to call her as often as I could about Dump,” I explained, still shocked that Sienna had come to talk to Aly in the first place. “Apparently he didn’t want her to worry, so he took to limited contact because he didn’t want to lie to her.”
Aly sighed, looking out the floor-to-ceiling window. “I feel so bad for everyone. I feel guilty for wanting to live normally with you.”
I understood where she was coming from. I wanted it all to go away, too. “You’re telling me. Don’t feel bad.” I paused, thinking about Dump and Sienna. “I’m surprised Sienna made the trek to come talk to you.” Aly frowned at me. “What?”
“Why are you surprised she came over?”
“I dunno.” I shrugged. “She’s just busy with her shit, but thinking about it, I guess it doesn’t surprise me.”
“Whad’ya mean?” Aly tilted her head, confused.
“Even though she’s had a successful career modeling, she’s super clingy.” Aly’s eyes bounced around my face, but she wore a blank expression. I swallowed, thinking that I did kinda sound dickish. “I didn’t say it like that to be mean.”
“Define clingy.” She tapped her fork on her knife.
“Okay, wrong choice of words.” I caught myself raising my voice to counter her snippiness. Was this turning into a fight? “Okay, this is about before Dump got sick. She doesn’t have any friends here. When she wasn’t traveling for work, she was attached to us.”
“So. Hasn’t it always been that way?”
Why did she have to be so smart? “Aly, we’re older now. We’re not fucking teenagers. I just worry about her. Other than shopping and going to modeling gigs, she doesn’t do anything for herself. Dump does it all. I don’t even think she knows how to pay bills. He asked me to take care of her if anything happens to him.” My stomach balled up, thinking about that possibility. “I don’t wanna think about what she’ll do if Dump…” I couldn’t say it aloud, and looked away from her. I didn’t want to ruin our night by dwelling on what-ifs.
Aly reached over the table, resting her hands palms-up in front of me. Her hair had come out of the bun, and splayed around her face and over her shoulders. She looked divine as the lights from Columbus Circle draped over her. I took her hands in mine and played with the ring I’d given her in London, when I first asked her to marry me. The ring that was meant for her left finger, but she wore it on her right. Would she say yes now? I smiled at her thoughtfully, feeling warm relief as she lovingly grasped my fingers. Just as I was about to speak, our waiter arrived with our wine.
I was never into wine until I’d first tried it when I dated Sasha, the blonde British heiress, while touring Europe. Then Aly surprised me when she asked for it during her trip to London. I was happy to know she was a fan of it, too. The first sip of the dark red liquid went down without a bite; what I loved about Pinot Noir. I liked the feeling a little too much, and the way it made me feel after a few more glasses, even better.
“Let’s change the subject. How you feelin’?” I smirked, hoping she’d get my drift.
She laughed under her breath and looked around as if people would know exactly what I meant. “I’m a little sore.” She smiled, tilting her head, and leaned in closer. “But you know how it goes. Even after a tough workout, you always go back for more.”
Oh, the innuendo. “I’ll have to give you a good rub down then when we get home, massage those sore muscles of yours.” I winked at her. I leaned in over the table, holding her hands tight. “Marry me.”
Aly’s eyes sparked open in surprise, and she bit her lip. “Jake. You know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“Then marry me.”
She squeezed my hands, and then pulled away, pouting a little. What? She played with the napkin in her lap, then looked at me. “You haven’t asked my dad.”
I sighed. “If I ask your dad tomorrow, would you marry me?” I wanted her to be mine for real, like Dump and Sienna, ‘til death do us part.
“I’ll marry you if you talk to my dad and after I finish college.” Her eyes pleaded with me for understanding. “There are just certain things that I have to have…in order.”
I took a gulp of my wine, wondering why it was so important for her to finish college before we got married. Thinking about it more…I was full-on chicken to ask Frank Montgomery for his permission. Why did she have to be so old school? “Understood. I know you already told me this in London. I guess I was just testing the waters.” I tried not to sulk, but what a jab to my ego. “So you’re saying yes?”
“I’m saying yes under those stipulations.” She grinned softly at me, and spoke softer. “I want it all, Jake. I want you. I want this.” She gestured with her hands and looked out over the half-filled room. “I want to figure out what it is I wanna do, you know. I wanna travel the world.”
I scoffed. “Aly, you can travel the world with me.”
“I wanna play volleyball, Jake. Just like you wanna play your music.” Dismay filled her eyes. “The fact that I haven’t trained in almost two months isn’t good. Tossing around a ball in the apartment and running in the park doesn’t count. I’m going to NYU tomorrow to see what my options are.”
My stomach sank. I understood passion. I couldn’t blame her for wanting those things. “A little bird told me you might not stay here for school.” As soon as the words registered, her fire dimmed and she looked down at the table.
“I’m not even gonna ask who told you that…because it doesn’t matter,” she said bitterly, shaking her head. “I want to stay here. I wouldn’t be here trying to make a life with you if I didn’t want it. That’s why I’m going to NYU tomorrow.”
“Do you really want to stay here? Don’t bullshit me, Aly.” My mouth went dry, and I reached for the bottle, refilling my wine glass.
She sighed deeply. “Yes, but there’s more to think about. I can’t ask you to pay for my school.”
“Marry me. That’s what husbands do; they take care of their wives. You wanna go to school? I’ll take care of it. What else do I have to spend my money on?”
“Please, stop. You know I’m not feeding you a bunch of crap. You know what my dreams are. I have real opportunities that aren’t just about the money for school, Jake. My parents have invested so much in me. I want to do this for them, too.”
I had to bite my tongue. I didn’t want to argue with her. I knew how important it was for her to follow through with her school commitments. “I get it. I do. We’ve just fought so fucking long for this moment, Aly.”
Our unassuming waiter, with his vintage bowl haircut (was that a thing now?), finally came to ask for our order – I was wondering where he went. My stomach was eating itself…or maybe it was the acids of uncertainty chewing holes in me. Aly ordered the salmon, and I ordered a filet mignon and another bottle of wine.
She leaned in over the table with hopeful eyes. “Move back to California.”
15
Alyssa
Overwhelmed and awestruck, I watched
the throngs of people line the sidewalk outside the Saturday Night Live studio as we slowly drove by, bogged down by a sea of yellow cabs. Tents? Really? Fans camped out to see them? Hidden by the tinted windows of our hired black SUV, we passed the NBC Studios marquee. Many of the fans held signs – We Love You Dump! – Get Well Soon! – Bobby Let’s Dance – Fuck The Big C! – Jake Marry Me – I Love You Jake Masters! My heart thundered in my chest, and palms went damp – they couldn’t all be for Jake and the band.
I swallowed down my simmering insecurities, looking down at my outfit: a black bustier, shredded-up dark denim jeans, and my very first pair of designer shoes – a pair of black stiletto Valentinos with red soles and silver studs on the heel. They literally made the outfit.
“You need to be the part of a rock star’s girlfriend, Alyssa. Every girl in that audience wishes she was you,” Sienna had said. I glanced at Jake as I played with the fake eyelashes I had expertly put on. I wasn’t used to wearing make-up, and Sienna suggested I get them. “They’ll last two to three weeks, and you won’t have to do shit but wear lipstick. I live in them,” Sienna shared. One by one, a lash extension was glued on each of my own lashes. It took two hours. They certainly looked great, but bugged the hell out of me. I hoped I’d get used to them, and quick.
Jake appeared to be calm as he sat sunken down into his seat next to me, always working on his phone. He looked perfectly cast with his hair waxed back, wavy and precise. It was darker with the product, making his blue eyes pop even more. His black shirt with tiny white pinstripes fit him perfectly, showing the broadness of his shoulders. It was pressed crisp, and he had his sleeves rolled up past his elbows. With his shirt unbuttoned, his bare chest teased me. Those girls were gonna eat him up – I knew I wanted to. I was relived that I’d managed to cover all the hickies pretty well with my makeup, and I was certain the real SNL makeup artists would make them invisible.
I kept my eyes on the crowd sprawled on the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure if it was a pang of jealousy or pride that ran through me, I concluded it was both. Was he totally unaffected by all the fans feathering the streets just to get a glimpse of him? This was the first time I fully realized what Jake had become, and it made my head swim. The paparazzi’s and fans in London had nothing on this scene. I’d stayed away from almost everything pop culture, the TV news, the internet; anything to keep my sanity while I was plotting and planning my life for the last three years. All the while knowing Jake and I would make a go at it, but not knowing exactly how it would affect me.
Holy shit.
“Mr. Masters. I’m going to round the block once more. Are you ready?” our black suited driver announced.
Jake sat up, straightening his position and looking out the window. “Yeah. I just called Sarge, and he’s already waiting out front. Thanks, Carl.” He looked at me, clasping my thigh, and leaned over to kiss my cheek. “You ready, Alycat?”
“I think so.” I glanced out the window too. “Better question is, are you ready?”
“I think so.” He smirked, still staring out the window. “I’m actually shocked there’re so many people out there for us. Those signs for Dump…I wish he was here.” He shifted in his seat, leaning forward, and sighed, taking my hand in his. “So I have to tell you something, and it’s not a big deal. Unless you make it a big deal.”
“What?” What the fuck now? My heart raced even faster, waiting for him to tell me whatever wasn’t a big deal.
“I’m pretty sure most of these fans are here for Eva James. She’s the host of tonight’s show.”
I seriously thought I’d had an aneurysm, because I couldn’t talk for a second. I flashed back to the moment in 9th grade when I found out he was seeing the Disney star turned pop-princess Eva fucking James, after we’d officially broken up. Though we were still involved secretly behind even her back, it still burned. I pictured myself screaming at him and bopping him upside the head. Then I snapped out of it. “What is wrong with you?” I said calmly, folding my arms around my waist. “Why is it you wait until the last minute to tell me things. Like seriously. What. Is. Wrong. With. You?”
He fussed like a grade-schooler. “Aly I didn’t want you to back out. I thought maybe you wouldn’t wanna come if I told you. I want you here with me.”
“I’m not fifteen anymore, Jake. I can handle being around people you used to…screw.”
His face fell. “Now come on.”
“No, you come on…”
Carl loudly cleared his throat. “Mr. Masters, we’re here.” He spoke loudly, stopping our bickering.
I narrowed my eyes at Jake, disheartened. Next thing I knew, Jake was holding my hand tightly, waving and smiling at his fans, I followed, smiling as sweetly as I could at the screaming and crying fans, who had their arms outstretched, trying to get a feel of him as camera flashes blinded me. I caught a glimpse of Marty at the front of the barricade by the studio doors and waved.
We were swept along by two linebacker-sized bodyguards, and I looked back behind me, seeing Bobby and Devon slapping the hands of fans along the short distance into the studio. I was surprised to see Devon, the band’s fill-in guitarist, I hadn’t seen him since high school. I hadn’t known he was still around. I was inundated by a million thoughts at once, and closed my eyes to get a grip, feeling my heartbeat thumping behind my eyes.
Finally, just inside the studio walls, the noise level cut in half as the doors swung shut. We waited for Bobby and Devon, and I tried to calm my rapid heart rate as my arms and legs shook from the adrenaline. Jake faced me, rubbing my bare arms, and his fingers clasped around my biceps.
“You’re shaking.” His blue eyes roamed my face, and his eyebrows furrowed with concern. He pulled me to his chest, hugging me tightly, kissing my forehead and hair, over and over again. “I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be nuts. There’s never been a crowd like this, ever.”
I took in a deep breath. “It’s okay,” I laughed, playing off my nerves. On top of the rabid fans, I was totally preoccupied and obsessing about seeing Eva. I looked around to see if she was standing anywhere nearby. “I just didn’t expect all that. Being in the middle of it, it’s crazy.”
“It just started getting like this. LA was kinda nuts too, but not like this.”
As he held me, I peered over his shoulder and spotted a gorgeous girl with cropped blonde hair, leaning against a door jam off in the distance. I immediately recognized her as Eva.
***
Jake and I sat alone in the band’s assigned dressing room and I tried to get over the Eva encounter. I played her syrupy hello to Jake over and over again in my head – “Oh my Gawwwwd! It’s been forever!” she’d said as she threw herself at him. Vomit.
I smiled as sincerely as I could, watching her as she clung to him like white dog hair on black fabric. She smirked at me as Jake stepped way from her, the kind of smirk that challenges you. I knew that look – she wanted to play. Jake introduced her, and she held out her hand to me, giving me the limpest shake I think I’d ever had. She felt icky and clammy. Even though she was beautiful, I wondered how he could even touch her after feeling her hand. Then I reminded myself he was high on drugs and alcohol at the time, trying to make myself feel better. I laughed internally. I knew I was being catty, but fuck her and the look she gave me. I bit my tongue and played stupid.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He looked at me uncomfortably, and I felt bad, telling myself it was circumstances.
“How did this happen again?” I asked, as if he’d shared that tidbit of information already.
He slumped down into a square, stiff chair. “We’re with the same label and have the same agent, and it’s just something that happened.” He sighed and leaned forward, looking at me guiltily. Something always just happens with him.
“What?” I whispered sternly at him when he looked like he had more to say.
“They wanna send us out on another tour with her.”
All I could do was blink at him as the fire an
d fear rose inside me. Life just kept throwing tomatoes at us. I was pissed that he would be essentially hanging out with her again, in such close quarters. I feared that maybe, just maybe, he’d end up hooking up with her. Irrational fear began to consume me – there was no reason to believe it would happen. But Eva clearly still had a thing for him and it made me sick to think she’d take any opportunity to tempt him. I attempted to bury my insecurities, stuffing them down as deep as I could. I didn’t want to ruin the evening with immature intolerance, but it was tough.
“Well there’s nothing I can do about that, is there?” I brushed past Jake, sitting down on the burgundy-colored sofa, trying not to sulk, and changed the subject. “Are you nervous?”
Jake blinked twice at me, and his eyes danced around my face. “I don’t know what I am,” he said despairingly, and looked around the room. Bobby and Devon busted through the door. “Hey Bobby, will you hand me a beer?” Jake pointed to a clear bucket filled with ice and selection of beer – Bud Light, Corona, Sierra Nevada.
“Hey Aly.” Devon smiled shyly.
“Aly!” Bobby piped as he reached into the bucket, grabbing a Corona and tossing it to Jake.
“Hey guys,” I smiled, happy to see someone was stoked to be there. Maybe their moods would lighten ours.
“I need an opener,” Jake announced, waiving the bottle around in front of him. I watched in agitated silence, and Bobby looked around for an opener for the beer.
Bobby cleared his throat and grabbed a beer for himself. “Ran into Eva. She looks different with that short hair. I barely recognized her.” His eyes nervously darted to me and then back to Jake.
“I like her better with long hair,” Devon chimed, and dug around in his backpack, taking out drumsticks.
I knew who she was right away, short hair or not, I thought as watched Devon moving about. It dawned on me that he was holding drumsticks.
“You’re gonna play the drums for Dump?” I asked curiously. I mean, who else would, now that I thought about it.
Broken Notes Page 10