A Tragic Heart

by S. Elle Cameron

  “Nothing much. Just that you weren’t there at the moment and you went to Peyton’s to hang for a while.”

  Mason didn’t tell. He had enough respect for me and Peyton not to tell. Either that or he was too embarrassed to admit he’d lost me to his cousin.

  “By the way, what happened to you and Mason?” Jackson asks, looking at Peyton. “Did you guys team up and get into a bar fight or something?”

  Peyton and I look at each other and remain quiet. We don’t know what to say, or if we should break the news to Jackson. But Jackson being Jackson, he catches on to something.

  “Okay, what is going on?” Jackson asks suspiciously.

  Peyton and I look at each other again. He gives me a look that says it’s okay to tell him.

  “Jackson, let’s go into the living room and sit down and talk for a while,” I say, grabbing his arm and leading him into the living room.

  We all sit down and just look at each other for a while.

  “We came in here to stare at each other?” Jackson asks in a sarcastic tone.

  I take a deep breath before speaking. I take Peyton’s hand. Jackson notices the gesture. His expression says that he knows what’s coming.

  “Jackson, Mason and I are getting a divorce.” I take another breath before continuing. “Peyton and I are together now. And I know that it may seem like a horrible decision, but there are reasons.”

  I see anger and disappointment written all over his face. I’m afraid of what he’s going to say.

  “Of course there are reasons. There are also reasons why you should’ve fought! Taylor, I’ve taken up for you whenever Mom and Dad doubted you and Mason!” Jackson isn’t yelling, but he has raised his voice a little.

  “Jackson, I did try to fight. Mason just wasn’t the one for me,” I tell him calmly, trying not to stir up an argument. Jackson hates it when we fight.

  “Well, you should’ve thought about that a little more before you married him at seventeen!” Jackson says, his voice still raised. “How long have you and Peyton been together?”

  “Well, we just went public…if you want to call it that, but we’ve been seeing each other for over a month; maybe even two,” I admit.

  “You cheated on Mason? That makes you just as bad as he is—maybe even worse, since Peyton is his cousin. And Peyton, what do you have to say about this?” Jackson is officially playing the “big brother” card.

  “I understand it may not seem like I made the best choice; but I know I did. Mason is my cousin and was my best friend, and I love him. But I’m in love with your sister and I have been for a very long time. She’s my best friend and she made the decision to be more than that to me.” Peyton is respectful while being blatantly honest.

  “And also, Jackson, there are just some things that I couldn’t get over in my relationship with Mason. We were practically over before I decided to get together with Peyton,” I add.

  “But you weren’t over yet—you’re still not over. You guys aren’t even officially divorced yet! Have you even signed any papers?” Jackson asks.

  “That will be taken care of this Saturday. That’s when he should have the divorce papers ready,” I say.

  “What could’ve been so horrible that you two decided to divorce so quickly? I thought you two would try harder. He cheated, and I am not taking up for him, but you did too. As far as I see it, you’re both even,” he says, making me feel little again.

  “He got another girl pregnant,” I remind Jackson.

  “And I thought you two were past that. I thought when you decided to go back to him, that was your way of sticking it out. If you knew you didn’t want in anymore, you shouldn’t have gone back in the first place,” Jackson says, making me feel guilty once again.

  “You’re right, I shouldn’t have gone back. But I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want to disappoint Mason. I thought a good wife would stay and try to support him. But it was hard. It was too hard,” I say, now looking directly into Jackson’s eyes.

  I know he sees the hurt that I’ve been hiding.

  “What are you not telling me, Taylor?” Jackson asks.

  I grab Peyton’s hand tighter. Should I tell Jackson? Although I’m not with Mason anymore, I still wouldn’t want Jackson to hurt him.

  “Tell him,” Peyton says, looking at me.

  “Tell me what?” Jackson asks impatiently.

  I think about it briefly and decide to confess. He’s Jackson, my first best friend, before Peyton. The one I tell everything to. I shouldn’t hide anything from him. He deserves to know.

  “Mason hit me—twice—and I had a hard time forgiving him. I pretended like I did and stayed, but even when he decided to clean up his act, I resented him for it. Don’t get me wrong, I still love him and I feel guilty for going to Peyton for support. But I can’t let that go. Mason left my body covered in bruises, some of which are just fading away. It wasn’t just a smack across the face. He threw me against a wall and he punched me violently. For those moments I wasn’t his wife. I wasn’t even a woman to him. I was a stranger, just as he was to me.”

  Jackson’s face has anger’s signature written all over it. This is the face that I fear. He wants to hurt Mason, and it’s obvious. I am crying, remembering what Mason did to me. It’s amazing how a few minutes ago, I was crying tears of joy. Now I’m back to tears of sorrow. Jackson hates to see me cry, especially as a result of someone else’s actions.

  “He hit you? He hit you and you didn’t tell me?” Jackson yells.

  Jackson is not one to raise his voice. But tonight is an exception; tonight he has put calm Jackson to sleep.

  “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, Jackson. I knew you’d be upset and I don’t want you to hurt Mason. He’s hurt enough. My leaving for Peyton crushed him enough; not to mention his losing Peyton, also; and getting into a violent fight with him, all within twenty-four hours,” I say, trying to convince Jackson to let Mason off the hook.

  “No. He hasn’t hurt enough yet! He doesn’t know what hurt is; but he’ll find out soon,” he says, getting up.

  I quickly get up and grab Jackson’s arm before he’s able to walk out of the living room. He turns around and tells me to let him go, but I refuse. I am not going to let him hurt Mason.

  “Jackson, don’t do anything to him. He’s already sorry enough; he didn’t mean it and I know he didn’t. I’ve forgiven him already, so you should, too. It was only twice. It didn’t happen anymore after the second time,” I say, still holding onto Jackson.

  “The fact is that it happened! It shouldn’t have happened once! If he was able to do it a second time, he couldn’t have been too sorry about it!” Jackson says, tightening his fists.

  “I know that—and he knows that. He was just in a bad place at the time. I know that doesn’t give him an excuse or justify what he’s done, but Jackson, please don’t do anything to hurt Mason. We just moved too fast and grew apart. We fell in love; we didn’t grow into love the way we should’ve done…the way Peyton and I have.”

  Jackson just stares at me. I hope he’s really giving thought to what I just said.

  “Fine. I won’t touch him—or say anything to him, for that matter. It’s about time for me to get going anyway. I have a show tonight in town. You can come if you want,” he says, much calmer now.

  “Jackson, you promise you won’t hurt Mason?” I ask.

  “I promise, and you know I never make a promise that I know I won’t keep,” he says.

  “Well, in that case, I would love to go to your show tonight,” I say also much calmer. “What about you Peyton?” I ask.

  “I’m cool with it,” Peyton replies.

  It’s amazing how laid-back he can remain even in chaotic situations. I think that’s one of the traits I love best in him.

  “Okay, the show starts at nine, but get there before then. And call me when you arrive so I can get you backstage,” Jackson says, walking toward the front door.

  “O
kay! This is going to be so cool! I get to hang out backstage at a Down Under concert like a true VIP,” I say, mimicking the voice of a star-struck female.

  “Lucky you. All your dreams have just come true,” Jackson says, being sarcastic.

  I guess I can say things went better than I predicted. It’s nice to have Jackson back in town, even if it’s only temporary. Maybe things are starting to look up.

  Peyton

  I wait for Taylor to get ready so we can hurry up and go to Jackson’s show. I guess maybe she’s trying make sure she looks appropriate to be the sister of a rock star. Whatever the case is, I’m getting frustrated. “Taylor, what is taking you so long?” I yell from the living room.

  “I’m coming now!” she yells in annoyance, since this is about the fourth time I’ve asked in the last ten minutes. By the time she finishes, Jackson’s show would be over.

  I look out the oversized window adjacent to the doors that lead to my balcony. This place is beautiful and way too elegant for a seventeen-year-old; but I can afford it, thanks to my mom’s will. I had to fight like hell to get it, since the owner felt that I that was too young. But I know what I want and I take it.

  “Ready,” she says from behind me.

  All of my frustration goes away when I turn around and see her. Everything about her looks so inviting—a little too inviting. She wore that dress to Mason’s party, before they started dating; but for some reason, she looks even more desirable now. Maybe that’s because she’s actually mine this time around. I can think of her however I want, and there’s a possibility that my fantasies will come true.

  “You like it?” she asks, smashing my trance into a million pieces and turning around so I can admire every inch of her.

  “Y-yeah, um, black is really your color,” I say, staring like it was the first time I’ve seen her.

  She’s wearing the classic “little black dress” with black high heels to match. The color helps bring out her green eyes and light skin. Suddenly, I don’t mind being late to Jackson’s show. “Uh…how about we stay here for a bit and go to Jackson’s show later? I mean, we’re pretty much late anyway,” I say in a seductive voice.

  “Hmmm, not going to happen, Peyton,” she says, grabbing my hand and leading me toward the front door.

  It was worth the shot, even if I did fail.

  ***

  The show hasn’t started yet, thankfully, but there are loads of people inside the building. I didn’t know Jackson had so many fans already. For a second, I imagine that all these people are here to hear me and my band play. I can only hope to make it as far as Jackson has. He has a song that’s already receiving radio airplay. It’ll probably start selling big pretty soon. It just amazes me that he’s come this far on his own and created a decent fan base before signing with a major label. Now that he has, I know he’s going to do great.

  “Yeah, Jackson, we’re here,” Taylor says into her phone. “Where? Oh. Okay. We’re coming soon, then.”

  “He says it’s this way,” she says, pointing to the right.

  As we make our way to the back, we see Jackson with his guitar in hand, holding the door open for us.

  “Put these on,” Jackson instructs, handing us two all-access passes.

  “Man, it’s crazy out there,” I say to Jackson, who’s now looking at himself in a mirror on the wall.

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve seen it, and there’re probably more people out there since last time I checked,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

  “Are you nervous?” I ask.

  He turns to face me as he fixes his guitar strap to fit around his shoulder. “Yeah, a little. But it’s good to be nervous before a show—at least, for me it is. I just turn it into raw energy, and once I get going there’s no stopping me,” he says. Then he says something I don’t expect. “I heard you have a band also. I’d love to hear you guys play sometime. Who knows, if you’re any good, I may put in a good word for you. Remind me after the show to introduce you to our manager. I’m sure he can help also. He did get us where we are today.”

  “Cool. Thanks, Jackson,” I say in disbelief.

  “No problem. I always wished I had someone to help me and the guys get started. It would’ve made things a lot easier,” he responds.

  “Yeah. Well, you’re here now, so it all obviously paid off.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Jackson says. Then he looks over my shoulder. “I see Taylor and Matt reunited,” he says with a little bit of disgust in his voice.

  I turn around to see Taylor smiling and talking to Jackson’s bass guitarist.

  “Reunited?” I ask, still looking at an unquestionably flattered Taylor.

  Whatever he’s saying to her, she obviously likes it. And I don’t.

  “Yup. Taylor never told you? She and Matt dated until we went away on tour. They took a break and planned on getting back together when we returned, but Taylor found Mason, and you know the rest. Matt was a little hurt by it, but he quickly got over it once he learned the perks of groupies. At least I think he’s over it. I really don’t care, since I find the whole thing to be gross. Thinking of one of my best friends with my sister just makes my skin crawl,” Jackson says, revealing something Taylor obviously never wanted me or Mason to know.

  “Oh,” is all I could conjure up to say.

  “Guys, you’re on in five!” the stage manager shouts.

  “Hey, I’ll talk to you after the show,” Jackson says, touching my shoulder.

  ***

  Tonight is the night I dream harder about making it with my band than any other night I remember. Seeing Jackson perform is just confirmation that I was born for this. During the show, Taylor stands next to me and grabs my arm, letting me know she wants to be close to me. I can’t help myself, so I have to ask. “You and Matt, huh?” I say, letting her know that I know.

  “Not now, Peyton,” is all she says.

  I let it be for the time being, I don’t want to start a fight on one of the most important nights of her life. Being that it’s important to Jackson, I know it’s important to her. Besides, she looks so enticing in that dress; I’d be a fool to start a fight with her.

  “Great show,” I say to Jackson when the encores are finally over.

  “Thanks,” he says, wiping his face with a towel. “Those lights are super hot, though. I thought I was going to pass out.”

  Just then, he sees his manager passing by, talking on his cell phone.

  “Hey, Mitch! Get over here,” Jackson shouts across the room.

  Mitch holds up his finger to tell Jackson to hold on for a second. A few seconds later, he is standing next to Jackson, who is sitting across from me. “What’s the problem, Jackson?” he asks. “This kid has so many problems and objections,” he says to me in a joking manner, pointing at Jackson.

  “Hey, I like what I like,” Jackson responds . “But I’m sorry to disappoint you. I don’t have a problem this time. I want you to meet someone. This is Peyton, my sister’s boyfriend; he has a band and I was wondering if you’d be interested in hearing them play.”

  “Hi, Peyton,” he says, shaking my hand. “Well, Jackson, that depends. Have you heard them play?”

  “Not yet, but my sister says they’re pretty good and she knows talented artists and good music. She’s the one who told us that we were good enough to make it,” Jackson says, looking at me but talking to Mitch.

  “Peyton, let me ask you a question. What are you to the band?” Mitch asks me in a businesslike tone.

  “Well, I’m their lead singer and main songwriter. I also play guitar and keyboard when needed,” I respond with confidence.

  “Multitalented. Nice,” Mitch says, sounding impressed. “If I give you a guitar right now, can you play and sing me something real quick? Since you are the lead singer, hearing you is like getting a taste of the entire band.”

  “Uh…sure,” I say, completely taken by surprise.

  Mitch hands me the acoustic guitar Jac
kson played tonight for his solo on stage. I take the guitar and fearlessly begin playing A Tragic Heart, a song that I wrote right after my mom died. It’s a song that I usually get praise for. I just hope that I receive the same reaction from Mitch and Jackson.

  I finish the song and the room is quiet for a few seconds. I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, until Mitch says, “That was amazing. Is that an original?”

  “Yeah. I wrote it when I was thirteen…it was right after my mom died,” I say, setting the guitar down next to me.

  “You’re as good as any musician that just hit that stage tonight,” Jackson says. “It was raw, emotional—”

  “Brilliant,” Mitch says, cutting Jackson off. “Peyton, I’d be more than happy to hear you and your band play. And honestly, if I don’t like them, I’d still want to manage you, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Well…uh…no disrespect, but I wouldn’t want to leave my band hanging like that. We’re a team, and I couldn’t do that to them,” I say honestly.

  “Talented and loyal,” Mitch states. “You know what? We’re here until Sunday evening. Is it possible for you to get your band together so I can hear you guys play?” he asks.

  “Um…sure. I think Saturday afternoon will be fine. My bass guitarist will be back in town on Friday. She’s been away for a while,” I say, not believing this is actually happening.

  “Dude, your bass guitarist is a girl?” Matt says, walking up to me with Taylor by his side.

  Those two have been inseparable the entire night.

  “Yeah, is that a problem?” I ask, looking at Matt.

  “No, it’s just unusual. How good is she?” he continues.

  “She’s awesome, actually. She’s been playing since she was five. She actually got the chance to meet the lead guitarist from her favorite band and played for him. She says he was impressed. We really got lucky with her,” I say, bragging about my band’s only girl.

  “She sounds sick, man,” Jackson says, before taking a sip of water.

  “Now I’m really excited to hear you play,” Mitch says. “Here, take my card and call me to set up an appointment.” He hands me his business card.