Everything We Are

by Janci Patterson

  “That was fake happiness, and I don’t want it. If I learned nothing else from her, I know real happiness exists, and I’m not accepting substitutes anymore, even if it’s never mine again. I’m an addict, and I’ll always be an addict, but I’m never going to back to where I was.”

  I shrug. “And I guess that’s it,” I say, even though I know how stupid it sounds to announce you’re done when you could just stop talking instead.

  “Thank you for sharing,” the moderator says.

  I want to leave. I want to walk out of the room to be sure no one says anything to me about what I said. If I have to hear from one person that they know how I feel, or that I’ll get over it, or that I should maybe keep the one-year relationship rule because this is clearly what it’s for, I’m going to have to sit in my car and grip the steering wheel again.

  But I don’t leave. I sit through the rest of the sharing. I don’t really listen, but I stare at the sign in the middle of the floor.

  What’s said here stays here.

  I know what it means. I’m not going to repeat what anyone else says outside of this room. But what I’ve said has to travel with me. It has to be with me every moment, forever. I have to remember how I feel now, and that memory has to be enough to keep me from taking the easy way out, every minute of every day, for the rest of my life.

  I know I shouldn’t be doing this for Jenna, because I have to do it for me. But for the first time I feel like I can do it for Jenna and for me, even if Jenna leaves the band and forgets me entirely. I can stay sober for me and her and Ty, and for Gabby and Dana and my parents and Ephraim and Katy. Not for one right reason, but for all of them.

  When the meeting is over, I walk out without talking to anyone. And while I don’t know where I’m going, I know it isn’t back where I’ve been.

  Between Phil and Alec, we somehow end up booking that performance at MTV’s Video Music Awards. Playing at the VMAs feels surreal in a totally different way than playing Carnegie Hall did. The New York performance was something I’d imagined my whole life that didn’t even come close to the high I got from the bumped-up dose of heroin I did afterward. Playing the VMAs isn’t something I ever would have thought to dream of, but any excitement or anxiety I might have had about it feels distant now, muted, like I’m an electric instrument that’s been unplugged.

  Everything feels a bit that way, as if my mind has cut the cord because it can’t stand to be in pain anymore. I said I didn’t want any more substitutes for happiness, and I meant it, but I can’t help but be glad for this: it does seem that there is actually a limit to how bad a person can feel, at least all at once.

  Alec texts me a few days before, saying I should practice because we’re not going to have a chance to get the whole band together before we perform. That should make me nervous, but really I’m relieved. I’m not sure I’m ready to see Jenna, to figure out what our relationship is going to look like now that even emotional intimacy is off the table.

  And I really don’t want to see Alec, because as awful as I’m feeling, I may very well punch him in the face.

  I arrive and check in and am ushered back to the band’s staging area, where Allison the costumer hands me a wardrobe bag. “This was supposed to be Mason’s for the European leg of the tour,” she says. “So I hope it fits. But you can’t go out on stage at the VMAs wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and I don’t care what Jenna says.”

  I take the bag and retreat into the dressing rooms, where I discover the clothes meant for Mason include a pair of bright green pants, a sparkly and equally bright multi-colored jacket with sides too small to actually button, and a chunky silver cross necklace bigger than my hand. I check the bag twice, but there’s no sign of a shirt to go under the jacket, and I’m afraid there isn’t meant to be one.

  Still, I’m not going to argue. I get dressed and put on my black boots and look at myself in the three-sided mirror.

  I look ridiculous.

  When I emerge, the rest of the band is there. Roxy’s pink hair is slicked down and she’s wearing enough sequins to cover Los Angeles like snow, and Leo is wearing a strange tie-dyed tunic under his alligator vest that makes him look like a hippy-medieval Crocodile Dundee, so I gather I’m actually supposed to be looking like this. Jenna’s clothes are a bit more her usual style, with the bling cranked up a few notches, and she turns and cringes at me. Her eyes linger on my bare chest.

  “Is this how this is supposed to be worn?” I ask. “Seriously?”

  “It was funnier when I picked it for Mason,” she says.

  We give each other agonized looks that have nothing to do with the outfit. Behind her, Roxie is sitting on one end of a couch and Leo has perched himself far on the other end, with his knees together and tilted away from her. Roxie eyes him like he’s broken out in a pox.

  I’m guessing Jenna’s assertion they were into each other has made him self-conscious.

  On the other side of the room, Alec is on the phone, probably with Phil, or Phil’s assistant. “I don’t care what the traffic’s like. I need it now.”

  Roxie gets up and motions for Leo to do the same. “Your damn vest is askew again,” she says. “Let me fix it.”

  Leo crosses his arms, his shoulders hunching. “It’s cool. Allison will get it.”

  Roxie slides around the back of the couch and puts her hands on his shoulders. “You’re a ball of tension. Let me massage you.” Her hands begin to knead his shoulders, and Leo bends over, his torso lying flat across his thighs, face buried in his knees, and lets out a guttural cry of distress.

  We’re all staring at him. Roxie’s hands are still poised in the air where his shoulders were.

  “What are you so stressed about?” Roxie demands. “What’s wrong with you?”

  Leo lets out another cry. His voice is muffled by his tight pleather pants. “I’m in love with Roxie.”

  Alec lowers the phone. Jenna raises her eyebrows and glances at me. Roxie just cocks her hip and looks confused.

  “Wait,” she says. “Like, me, Roxie?”

  Leo snaps up and spins around. “Do you know another Roxie?” he yells at her.

  We all stare at them for one breath, two, three.

  And then Roxie leaps over the couch and tackles Leo. She slams him sideways down on the couch with a knee on each side of his thighs, and kisses the hell out of him.

  Leo digs his hands into her hair, destroying her carefully­-shellacked hairstyle, and within seconds they’re hardcore making out.

  My whole body is getting hot. Alec is right—it’s like being in a limo on prom night, only after my date has broken my heart. I’m happy for Leo and Roxie, but Jenna won’t meet my eyes, and I can’t handle it anymore.

  I raise my hands in the air. “I’m out.” I turn to leave the room, meaning to go wait for the rest of them in the hallway.

  “Felix, wait,” Jenna says.

  And I turn around, because the truth is, I would wait forever for her. At this moment, four years feels like nothing at all.

  Thirty-two

  Jenna

  When Felix says he’s out, I don’t know if he means he’s leaving the room, or the band, or our lives. I just know I can’t let him go. Not completely. He turns around and looks at me, with that haunted expression he’s had since I told him it was over.

  I did the right thing, I’ve told myself, again and again like that might finally convince me. I did the right thing, even if Ty hates me and is heartbroken. Even if I feel like my own heart has been shattered into a thousand pieces and ground into a fine sand. Even though we got the latest drug test results back from Phil—less random this time, because I requested we all be tested—and I know Felix is still clean.

  That can’t have been easy. God knows I’ve wanted to drown my sorrows in alcohol these past few days, and my past has left me with an aversion rather than an addi
ction.

  Felix is looking at me, waiting to know what I have to say, and I realize there’s nothing I can say. I want to tell him I’m sorry, and I want him back. I want to be the good mom I failed to be when I was younger, and be sure I’m protecting my son. If I’m being honest, I also want a guarantee for myself, that if I tell him I made a mistake, he’s not going to be back on heroin in a week or a month or a year and break my heart again.

  “Please stay,” I say. And, even though it’s not fair, I know what I’m really asking is for him to not give up on me while I sort this out.

  “Okay,” Felix says. Roxie and Leo are still making out on the couch, and while I wish they’d chosen a better moment, I suppose that’s been coming for a long time.

  “Oh my god, could you two stop it for two seconds?”

  When I turn around, I expect Alec is talking to Roxie and Leo. But no, he’s staring straight at me, looking exasperated. He’s hung up the phone on Michael, Phil’s assistant, who’s bringing Alec his spare guitar, because the one he brought has a stripped tuning peg.

  “What?” I ask Alec. Because for once, Felix and I aren’t doing anything that should make him angry. In fact, we’re doing exactly what he wanted in the first place—staying away from each other. Roxie and Leo are oblivious to everyone else, and are getting frighteningly close to dry humping—or maybe just straight-up humping—right there on the couch in front of us all.

  “What do you mean, what?” Alec asks. “If you’re going to break up with him, fine. But both of you stop emoting at each other. We’re here to work.” He gives a disgusted glance at Roxie and Leo, but then turns his hard glare back on me.

  I gape. “Now you’re mad at me for emoting?”

  Alec rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. First you’re going to live with Felix. Then you’ve broken up with him, but you want to keep him in the band. Now you two are back to making googly eyes at each other, but you’re too chicken shit to do anything about it. God, Jenna, stop jerking him around and decide what you want already.”

  I flush. I didn’t go to Alec for comfort about Felix, because I knew he was too pissed about the situation to be supportive. But if he thinks for one minute he has any right to judge the decisions I’m making, to judge me for trying to do what’s best for me and for Ty—

  “Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” I say.

  Alec scoffs, and I want to grab him by the collar of his sparkly shirt and shove him against the wall. We haven’t been together in a year, but Alec has always been my friend. I’ve had it with him making things more difficult when I most need him to be a decent human being.

  “Someone needs to tell you what to do,” Alec says. “Look at the decisions you make by yourself!”

  I steal a look behind me at Felix. He’s still here, though he’s flattened himself against the wall, like he’s trying to stay out of this conversation. I can’t blame him. It was selfish of me to ask him to stay in the band, in my life, when probably he’d rather get away. Has he already realized I’m not worth sticking around for, that I’m too messed up, too crazy?

  Felix glances at Alec, and then nods at me. There’s this confident look on his face, like he knows what I need to do, and he’s rooting for me to do it, but he isn’t going to do it for me.

  Felix, whose heart I’ve broken, who made a mistake, yes, but who has done everything I asked, and been nothing but respectful since. Felix is still here for me, even after everything.

  Maybe Alec is right. Maybe I’m being unfair to him.

  But at this moment, it’s Alec I need to deal with.

  I turn back around, fighting to keep my voice from edging up into hysterics. “I’m done, Alec. I’ll play tonight, and I’ll sing for the tour, but after that I’m out. So just get off my back before I walk out right now instead. You know damn well you can’t sing these songs by yourself.”

  You’d think Roxie and Leo would take notice of this, but they’re too busy gyrating on the couch to hear. I hold my breath. This wasn’t how I envisioned breaking this news, but I’m not letting Alec stand by and tell me I’m messing everything up anymore, when the biggest mistake I’ve made was lying with him to begin with.

  “Okay, look,” Alec says, his voice steady, like he’s trying to calm a wounded animal, which is condescending as hell. “I get it. I know you’re not doing four more years. But do this smart, Jenna. What the hell are you in such a hurry for?”

  “Because I’m unhappy. You used to care about that, remember? We broke up because neither of us was happy, and we tried to keep the band together, because we both loved that, if not each other. But I’m still unhappy, Alec. You may be fine having one-night stands for years and years, but I’m not.”

  “Please,” Alec says. “I’ve heard so many stories over the years about what’s going to make you happy. You want me, you want a career in music, you want to be able to support Ty, you want Felix, you want out. You’re never happy with any of it, Jenna, and you need to stop destroying everything in your wake.”

  An icy wave washes over me. Alec knows about my past, and how hard I’ve worked to become someone who can take care of Ty, who doesn’t just lash out and hurt everyone around her. Is that what I’m doing now? It doesn’t feel like it, but I can’t be sure.

  Either way, it’s no longer Alec’s business.

  I lower my voice. “I’m only staying because I made a commitment, but when the tour is done, it’s over. I’m sorry, Alec, but you’re not going to change my mind.”

  Alec throws his hands in the air. “What the hell, Jenna? You’re in love with Felix, but that’s over, even though he didn’t do a single thing wrong. You know perfectly well he’s not on drugs. We’ve got the test results. But one little thing goes wrong, and you’re out.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you? That’s none. Of. Your. Business.”

  “Like hell,” Alec says. “Now you’ve decided the band doesn’t make you happy either, so you’re out, just like you were when we were having problems. The problem isn’t me or the band or Felix. The problem is you. You’re messed up and you need help, but you keep running away instead of just goddamned dealing with it.”

  My eyes are burning, but I’m not going to break down and cry in front of Alec. He’s lost all right to know what’s really going on in my head, not in the least because he’s apparently lost all interest in that a long time ago. God, I thought we were still friends. I thought he still cared about me. And maybe he does, but only as a lost child he’s trying to save. Only as this rogue element he’s trying to control.

  “Maybe you’re right,” I tell him. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

  Alec glares at me. “I care about you too much to let you ruin your life.”

  I grit my teeth. “If you want to help, stop helping.”

  Alec shakes his head, undeterred. “I’m not going to let you push me away like everyone else.”

  “And I’m not giving you a choice.” I spin around and fling open the door to march out of the room, not sure at all where I’m going. We’ve been designated this space by the stage crew, and anywhere else I go I’ll just be in the way.

  But I’m done dealing with the shit Alec’s been giving me. I should have told him off a long time ago.

  Before I leave, though, I turn to look at Felix. Alec has stepped into the corner and leans there with one hand on each wall. I meet Felix’s eyes.

  And as if he was waiting for me to give him permission, he follows me out.

  Thirty-three

  Felix

  I follow Jenna through the arteries behind the stage, glad to see the various techs and wardrobe people have decided not to gather outside our dressing room, even though some must have heard. We move past other dressing rooms and green rooms, past bustling staff and shouting managers and stylists who reek of hairspray with hands dyed by colored mousse. At the
end of the hall we come to a room with spare sound equipment, and Jenna collapses onto an amp.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “No. You?”

  I lean against the door frame, where I can block anyone from taking notice of her. I’ll dazzle them with the brightness of my outfit alone. “No,” I say. I’m still stinging from the things Alec said, that Jenna’s never happy, that she bounces from one thing to another.

  She was happy with me. I was sure of it. But, as Alec would surely say, she was happy with him once, too.

  Jenna lets out a slow breath. And while I don’t want to disturb this tenuous peace between us, I need to know.

  “Is he right?” I ask. “Was I just one more thing that was supposed to make you happy?”

  “No.” Her hands clutch her knees tightly over the silver fishnet stockings. “You and me were real. But he may be right that you’re one more thing I’m running away from.”

  “If that’s true, it was warranted.”

  Jenna shrugs, like she’s not sure anymore, and while I want to cling to that spark of hope, the possibility she might decide she was wrong, I don’t want her to do that just because Alec’s shaken her faith in herself. She looks so small and alone and scared.

  I can’t take it anymore. I squeeze onto the amp beside her and put my arm around her. Jenna leans into my shoulder, and glances down at my bare chest.

  “I’m sorry about the outfit,” she says.

  “I’m sorry I messed everything up.”

  Jenna shakes her head. “Alec is a dick, but he’s got a point. I’m messed up. There’s stuff I haven’t dealt with and I don’t know how.”

  I wish I knew the perfect thing to say, the thing that would give her the answer and make everything okay between us again. But I don’t, so I just squeeze her shoulder. “We’re all messed up. Just look at Leo and Roxie.”