Fall Of The Rock Girl: A Lesbian Romance (Revolving Record Book 2)

by Nicolette Dane

  Audrey reached for my hands and tried to give me a pull.

  “People were looking at me at the ceremony,” I said. “I could just feel all the eyes on me.”

  “Sure,” she said. “The younger people here will know you. But most people here, they’re older. They’ve probably heard your name but they have no idea what you look like.”

  “I can’t believe I agreed to this,” I said, shaking my head, looking past Audrey and into the ballroom. It was beautiful and open, tables throughout with white tablecloths and ornate place settings. People were milling about, getting drinks, socializing. It was a wealthy looking crowd.

  “It’s going to be fine,” Audrey promised. She held tighter to my hand and pulled. “Let’s go.”

  After getting our drinks from the bar, me a gin and tonic and Audrey a glass of champagne, we sat next to one another at a table upfront with some of Audrey’s family. Her sister Dahlia and her husband, his brother and his wife, and some other people — cousins, I think — essentially, what felt like, the kids’ table. It gave me a little internal laugh. Or maybe that was just the gin talking.

  “I cannot believe I’m sitting at the same table as Layla Bean,” said Dahlia, absolutely beaming as she stared at me. “I’m such a huge fan!”

  “Thank you,” I said, trying to play it cool. After some back and forth with the rest of the table, I leaned over to speak to Audrey as privately as I could.

  “You didn’t say your sister was a fan,” I whispered.

  “Sorry!” she said with an apologetic face and a shrug. “She’s in her own world,” Audrey continued. “She won’t bug you.”

  Happily, I was more or less left alone as the night progressed. Yes, a few younger people came up to me, asked for autographs and pictures, but everyone was very respectful. I did catch people talking between themselves, pointing in my direction, but it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for me. I started to loosen up after having a few more gin and tonics, and Audrey was loosening up as well.

  Between the dinner course and desert, Audrey’s brother and his new wife started their rounds. And seeing as I was sitting at one of the more important tables at the reception, we were one of the first on the list.

  “I’m sorry,” said Kate, Mark’s new wife. Her eyes were wild as she looked at me. She was definitely a beautiful young woman, especially so in her ornate white wedding dress. “I’ve been looking your way almost the entire night. Mark made a joke that I was staring so hard, I probably married the wrong person in this room.”

  “It’s fine,” I said, smiling. Kate reached out and took my hands.

  “Thank you so much for being here,” she said. “This is just crazy that you’re at my wedding.”

  I looked over at Audrey and she just smiled as she watched.

  “Do you mind if we get a picture?” Mark asked, his eyebrows raised. I looked behind him and there stood a wedding photographer with a large camera.

  “Sure,” I said, nodding quickly. I pushed out my chair and stood up.

  “Oh, that’s so amazing!” cried Kate. Both she and Mark flanked me on either side, putting their arms around me, and all three of us smiled wide for the photographer. He must have taken about a dozen pictures of us.

  More drinks came, and I was feeling less tension in my body, though my mind was all over the place. Audrey even got me up to dance a few times. Once the booze did its job on my brain, my anxiety started to fade and relaxation set in. I was feeling warm, happy-drunk, glad that I could take a break from most of my troubles for even just a night.

  The reception was, to my surprise, fine. The sense of dread I had felt coming in was showing itself to be unfounded, and that made me feel pretty good about myself. Nobody who approached me was too demanding at all. Everybody, including Audrey’s parents, seemed extremely grateful that “Audrey’s famous friend” was in attendance. It was a very respectful bunch.

  After the party was over, saying our goodbyes, Audrey and I walked to her car, a large SUV borrowed from her family, lightly holding on to one another’s hand with just our fingers. I was feeling quite content from the gin, and although I really wanted a smoke, I held off on it for Audrey’s sake.

  “See,” she said, stopping as we approached the car, turning around to face me. “It wasn’t that bad.” Audrey stepped closer to me and slipped her arms around my hips. Other people were walking around the parking lot, but the view of us was obscured by the SUV.

  “You were right,” I smiled.

  “Mm hmm,” hummed Audrey, getting closer to me.

  “Everybody was really nice,” I said. “I appreciated that.”

  “I can be nice, too,” she said, giving me a sultry look. Before I knew it, Audrey had leaned in and we were kissing. Even though I knew I should have stopped it, I couldn’t. It felt really good to kiss her, and I had been feeling so down, so lonely. Audrey’s kiss filled me with warmth and it kickstarted my heart.

  “I shouldn’t,” I said between kisses, trying to pull away but not really wanting to. Each time I pulled back, Audrey leaned in and resumed our kiss.

  “It feels good, though, doesn’t it?” she asked sweetly.

  “Yes,” I admitted.

  Then we were in the backseat of the SUV, both of us with our dresses hiked up over our hips, Audrey straddling me as we made out. She kissed me with intensity, breathing deeply against me, groaning softly as we collided. My heart was racing and I felt wanted. I was living among a lot of uncertainty, a lot of questions, wondering who I could trust and who really cared about me. In the back of the SUV with Audrey, I just felt a connection I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “How’s this?” asked Audrey through hot breath. I felt her hand move between my legs and begin caressing me over top of my underwear.

  “It feels good,” I said, resuming our kiss.

  “You’re so sexy,” she cooed. “Mmm,” Audrey moaned against me, her fingers pressing even firmer into me. I was in lusty autopilot, letting the gin do the driving, loving the attention and longing for this kind of spirited communion. I had been feeling so alone and this… this satiated that loneliness. I couldn’t stop.

  My mind melted around the time Audrey fiddled with my panties, maneuvering her fingers around the material, and then entering me. My body went slack and I fluttered away, just letting her have her way. I was buzzing, vibrating, lost in far off inebriation. She kissed me deeply as she fingered, and she did all the driving. The only thing I could muster were reflexive moans.

  I remember that eventually I began writhing there in the backseat, squirming as the energy hit me, feeling myself go flush. Audrey held on, still kissing me as I convulsed. Things grew more cloudy after that. But once we found respite, once Audrey gave me a moment to breathe, I made up some excuse that I had to get home because I had a meeting in the early morning. She protested, but gave in soon after.

  I got home somehow. Well, Audrey drove me home, but I didn’t remember much of the drive. Once I stumbled into my parents’ house, trying to quietly make my way up the stairs without waking them, I ambled into my childhood bedroom. My eye makeup was already smearing from tears. I quickly tore out of my dress, and I fell down into my bed, face buried against the pillow.

  As I laid there and cried, I thought hard about the least messy way I could kill myself.

  I felt like an awful person. I felt irredeemable. I felt dirty. Once I cried it out, slept it off, and sobered up, the suicidal thoughts passed and I was simply left with the aftermath of more bad choices. I knew I would have to tell Daisy what happened, I just didn’t know how or when. It was something that would hang over me for a while.

  It’s so easy to judge people like me. But very few people actually know what it’s like. Few know how lonely it can get, how many people just want to take advantage of you, and how confusing the whole ride can be. In the minds of some, celebrities like me aren’t even people. We’re just an image, a totem, some thing that’s supposed to be one way always. It’s a s
truggle to hold on at times.

  I’m not crazy. I’m a strong, hard-working person. So why was this all so difficult?

  “Do you think you’re trying to sabotage your success?” asked Dr. Murphy, tapping her pen against her notebook as she looked at me from her chair.

  “Maybe,” I said, nodding as I thought about her question. “Maybe I’m trying to pull the lynch pin out so everything I know comes crashing down.”

  “Well, I think your apology to Renee was a step in the right direction,” she said. “That was a positive moment, building things back up.”

  “But that’s not my current life,” I said. “That’s trying to salvage something I loved in the past.”

  “You’re always in your current life, Layla,” said Dr. Murphy. “Reconnecting with Renee adds to present happiness.”

  “But then this thing with Audrey,” I protested. “I mean, what the fuck am I doing?”

  “You told me you were lonely and removed,” she said. “We make mistakes when things seem bleak.”

  “I’m just so sad,” I said, my head slowly shaking back and forth, eyes glazed over and staring.

  “It’s okay,” said Dr. Murphy. “This is all fixable. And if it’s not,” she continued. “If this proves to be too much for your relationship with Daisy, that’s just how it has to be. Life isn’t always easy, and it isn’t always fair.”

  “I should be happy,” I said. “Life is unfair, but the scales are so tipped in my direction.”

  “Happiness isn’t just something you achieve one time,” she said. “It’s not something you accumulate and then just always have. It’s a day-to-day, moment-to-moment thing.”

  “Right,” I said, nodding.

  “It’s a process,” Dr. Murphy continued. “There are going to be bad times, but that doesn’t mean you can’t choose to be happy right now. I’m not saying right now, because I know right now you’re struggling, confused, angry, but what I mean is that in any given moment, you can have happiness. It’s not something you’re going to get from another hit record, or another major contract.”

  “That’s not even what I want,” I said.

  “So what do you want?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I just want to feel like I belong.”

  “Do you remember that question I asked you before,” said Dr. Murphy. “I asked who you think could replace you if you disappeared. Do you remember?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Have you thought about it?”

  “Yes,” I said again. “I couldn’t come up with anybody. There are a lot of talented pop stars,” I mused. “But I do something specific. Or have something specific, I don’t know.”

  “Okay,” said Dr. Murphy evenly. “So you would say that you bring something special to music culture.”

  “I think so,” I said. “Or at one point I did.”

  “You’re unique,” she said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I think I am.”

  “If you disappeared,” Dr. Murphy went on. “The world would lose something. A unique voice. In that way, you do belong. You belong of this world. I don’t want to say to this world. You’re not possessed. You belong with us. Do you see?”

  “I think so.”

  “People as a whole have a lot of things to say,” she said. “But there are so many of us, that we can’t all be heard by everyone all the time. You, on the other hand, you’re a voice for the rest of us. You’re your own unique voice, but you also give us a voice. We’re together in this.”

  “I think I see what you’re saying,” I said.

  “People may selfishly want you to speak for them,” said Dr. Murphy. “And in that way, they may demand that you’re perfect, incorruptible, inhuman. But you are human. You know that. Your human mistakes are fixable, unless they aren’t… and then they aren’t. Your public face, as the pop star Layla Bean, it’s not who you are. It’s just something you can wield to give others a little bit of hope, a little bit of happiness.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I can have two distinct faces,” I said. “Two Laylas that aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  “You can be both,” she affirmed.

  “But isn’t that crazy?” I asked. “Isn’t it crazy to have that kind of demand put upon a person?”

  “It’s two sides of the same coin, though, Layla,” she said. “You’ve heard that expression. And it appears to me positively necessary for someone in your position to master this kind of thought. That’s why you’re having difficulty. You can’t separate the myth from the woman.”

  “Wow,” I said, putting my head in my hands.

  “I’m not a perfect therapist,” said Dr. Murphy. “And you’re not a perfect pop star. But we try our best. And that’s as good as we can hope for.”

  “So what do I do now?” I asked.

  “Put the pieces back together,” she said. “You might find you lost some of them. But I bet you still have the border of the puzzle,” said Dr. Murphy, drawing out a rectangle with her fingers, a small smile on her face. “You can fill in the rest as necessary.”

  “That’s some metaphor,” I said.

  “Maybe I should be writing songs,” she said with a wink.

  “So whatever I have next is probably the hardest part, huh?”

  “It could be,” said Dr. Murphy. “Just be ready for that and try your best. Problems are fixable or they aren’t, so either way it’s only harmful to yourself to worry. If you want to know my professional opinion,” she continued. “I think your problems are mostly fixable… with empathy and kindness and truth.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Murphy,” I said, taking her words to heart. “I’m going to keep trying to fix them.”

  “I believe you will,” she said, smiling at me.

  “Dollface,” said Trish, leveling with me through my cell phone. “You’ve been gone for a few weeks now and both Municipal and Providence are trying to coordinate on getting you involved, and they’re missing an integral piece.”

  “What’s that?” I said meekly.

  “You,” she said forcefully. “They’re putting pressure on me, and they’re putting pressure on your sweetheart Daisy to get you back in town.”

  “I’m not going to do anybody any good right now,” I said.

  “Layla,” she said. “You’ve got to get your shit together. Truly. Get your shit together.”

  “I’m seeing a therapist here,” I said.

  “That’s great,” said Trish. “Take your pills or whatever, get back on the horse, and let’s ride!”

  “Okay,” I said. There was no arguing with Trish. She didn’t understand much beyond ambition and money, which made her a great manager for people looking to hit it big. Not so good if you were feeling fragile.

  “They think you’re going crazy,” she went on. “And that’s a liability to everyone.”

  “Maybe I am,” I said.

  “You’re not,” Trish said affirmatively. “Get on a plane, and get back into town.”

  “I still have a couple things I need to do here,” I said.

  “Do them,” she said. “And get back to LA.” Trish was very firm in her words.

  “Okay,” I said. Just then, my phone beeped into my ear, indicating there was another call coming in. “I’ve got a call,” I said. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Get back to LA pronto,” said Trish. “Feel better.” She hung up after that.

  I knew I was pissing Trish off, and there was a lot of money at stake for both of us, but her abrasiveness just wasn’t helping. It was great in negotiations, not so great when your grasp on sanity was precarious.

  Looking to my phone screen to check the caller ID, I felt my stomach sink when I saw that it was Daisy calling.

  I wasn’t ready to talk to her. I was feeling low, but it was almost like I hadn’t quite hit rock bottom yet. And I knew that my next conversation with her would get me there. I debated myself for a moment as I stared down into my phone. And then I se
nt Daisy to voicemail.

  People are complicated. Sometimes it’s easier to ignore that fact, and try to pretend everything’s perfect. Or to think the solution to your problems is just over that next hump. When you ignore it all, though, it just gets pushed down and then it builds up and then it explodes.

  What had happened with Audrey was a mistake. I didn’t want for that to happen, even though I felt at fault for seeing her when I really should have just hidden away at my parents’ house. When you’re in my position, though, you get often tempted. Audrey was pretty, young and hopeful, fun and confident. She was the kind of girl I had always wished I had been. And maybe, in her dream of becoming an actress, she felt if she could get close to me, I could make that happen sooner for her.

  And I could. She was absolutely right if she thought I could. I had that weight.

  Audrey had been trying to get in touch with me, too, but I ignored her. I didn’t feel up to talking to anybody really. It was hard enough to be barked at by Trish. I still had so much to do in Michigan and I was feeling more lost than ever. I felt like the harder I tried to crawl out of this hole, the deeper I buried myself in.

  “Layla!” I heard called from downstairs. It was my Mom’s voice, muffled through my door.

  I crawled out of bed, found my jeans, and yanked them up my legs. Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I sauntered to the door and opened it.

  “Layla!” she called again.

  “What?” I yelled down the stairs.

  “I think you’ll want to see this.”

  As I walked into the living room, I saw my Dad sitting on the couch watching the television, while my Mom stood with her arms folded, eyes also on the screen. I ambled toward them, curious as to what they were watching.

  It was one of those infuriating tabloid shows. That smug leader of theirs, sipping from his oversize cup, and all those other paparazzi idiots cracking jokes and spreading rumors about celebrities.

  I could already feel the tears coming.