Shattered Stars

by Shari Ryan

  Pain.

  My knees feel weak after standing here against the wall, and I try to slouch down the wall toward the baseboard to sit on the step to rest for a minute. Once seated, the front door at the bottom of the stairs surprisingly opens slowly, as if blown open by a gentle breeze, but then he walks inside.

  “I just want to talk, Dani,” he says.

  “No, I don’t want to talk to you. Leave my house,” I sneer.

  “I know we have a daughter together. Her name is Alyson. I want to meet my daughter. I have a right.”

  My head feels heavy as I watch him walk toward the stairs in his heavy brown boots that are unlaced. His jeans are worn out at the knees, and his blue, beer-promotional shirt is too tight around his midsection. The beard covering his chin is longer today than it was the last time I saw him, but the mole is free of facial hair. It’s taunting me like the black hole always does. Looking at him closer now, the center of his eyes are the same color. There are so many black holes. It’s no wonder I’m stuck in his hell.

  “Come here, Dani. I just want to talk.” His hand reaches out for me, and I’m scared I will feel a thousand knives stabbing me all at once as soon as he makes contact.

  “Don’t come any closer. Stay the hell away from me. Go away. Just go away!” I scream at the top of my lungs until my voice becomes mute and only air is escaping.

  “Come on now. Don’t be like this. I was your first. You got to have a special place in your heart for me, babe. I gave you something Layne could never give you. Didn’t I?”

  “Leave!” I scream so hard that I slip off the step and tumble down a few stairs, bringing myself to his feet. My eyes close, clenching with fear. “Leave me alone.”

  I’m lifted up, and I swing my arms, trying to kick myself free from his hold. I won’t let this happen again. Not now, never. I will kill him with my bare hands first. I will not give him any more pieces of me. He can’t have them. “Don’t take my clothes! Don’t touch me! Do you hear me?”

  Twenty-One

  Twelve Years Ago

  18 YEARS OLD

  I have heard of Madison Square Garden a million times, but I never imagined being here or being Layne Hensen’s girlfriend. It’s like a dream getting ready to watch Dividing Oblivion perform.

  The music video became very popular a few weeks ago, and they’ve been getting requests to perform, enough to plan a year-long tour. The record label they signed a contract with is demanding that their first album is out within six months, then the tour will follow. Layne seems overwhelmed by it all but excited at the same time. Being asked to open for an award show tonight, though, this is huge.

  The lights dim and Layne’s mom, Sandra, places her hand on my knee. I flinch at first, but her hand is so light and weightless, the nerves ruminating through my body die out quickly. “My baby made it,” she murmurs. “I’m so grateful I could see him perform, Dani. This is all I’ve ever wanted for him.”

  I take her hand within mine, feeling her loose skin dangling from her fragile fingers. She’s so young, yet her hand feels the same way my grandmother’s did when she passed away in her nineties. I twist my head to look at Sandra, and she’s beaming from ear to ear. We went out this week and helped her pick out an outfit for tonight, and a wig she loves. Her hair has grown back now that she stopped the chemo, but it’s too short to style. We got our nails done and had our makeup professionally applied this morning too. I know she feels as good as she can right now, and Layne is beside himself that she could make the four-hour car trip.

  “Thank you all for being here tonight,” Layne shouts to the crowd. “It’s incredible to be in New York City, supporting the National Live Free Award Ceremony. To all the people out there,” his voice echoes around the stadium and gives me goosebumps, “if you have a loved one who has impacted your world, send them a message or hold your head up to the sky and thank them now.” Layne pauses for a moment, looks down at the mic, then back up to the crowd. “Mom ...” his voice is soft, but the mic allows everyone to hear. “This song is for you.” Layne points toward us, and the music roars from the speakers surrounding us. I close my eyes, piecing together which song he’s starting with, but it only takes a moment.

  * * *

  The future is here

  Because you made it

  The pieces are everywhere

  In spite of how they fit

  * * *

  I am part of your life

  In every single way

  The pride, dignity, and delight

  So I promise you today

  * * *

  I will make you proud

  In the afterworld, hold on

  Please listen for my loud

  Gratitude and words in song

  * * *

  I thought Sandra might be a mess of tears by now like I am, but her eyes are wide, and she’s gazing with love, watching Layne pour his heart out into the mic. His hair is wet from the sweat pouring off of him, and he’s holding the mic stand as if it’s the last grip he has to this world. His eyes are closed tightly, and it appears his mouth can’t open wide enough to get the monstrous amount of pain-covered-lyrics out of his throat at once. I can hear his agony through the sound of his voice, pouring everything out into the form of beautiful words. I don’t understand how he’s capable of creating and showing so much emotion to share with everyone around him, but it makes me feel everything he’s feeling.

  The audience goes wild when the song ends, and everyone is standing for an ovation, applauding the band. Screams grow around us, and they are so loud I can’t hear anything else, but like the idol he is, Layne lifts his hand with a smile and the crowd settles to a hum.

  “The next song is about my girl, and she’s here tonight, so I want to bring her up on stage. Is that okay with you all?”

  More screams, but not as loud as the ones inside my body. Layne didn’t tell me this was his plan, but Sandra’s hand is pressing against my back, silently telling me to move. I look over at her, and she’s mouthing the word, “Go!”

  I stand from my seat, feeling like the world is moving beneath me as I scoot in front of several pairs of knees before making it out to the aisle I have to walk down alone with thousands of eyes staring at me. All I can do is keep my focus on Layne, giving him a look like I will get him back for this, but he’s laughing. Even if he doesn’t know what I’m thinking, I’m sure he can assume, which is exactly why he would be laughing. His greatest joy is pulling me from my comfort and making me see how amazing life can be outside of my little bubble.

  Layne jogs down the steps from the stage to grab my hand, knowing I’m wearing heels I can hardly walk in on flat ground. “Lift your dress a little,” he whispers as I follow him up the steps. If I didn’t lift my dress, I would already be flat on my face. I skipped the prom dress and went right to an evening ball gown for an award ceremony. I still question how this is my life sometimes, but in any case, I’ve certainly been enjoying the ride.

  “I’m going to hurt you,” I whisper as he pulls a stool up to his mic stand.

  “No you’re not,” he responds. “You love me. You just haven’t said so yet.”

  Can the world in front of us hear what we’re saying? “I love you?” I question.

  “I love you too, Dani,” he says into the mic. Oh my God.

  Wait ... I didn’t say it first. I was repeating what he said. “Hey,” I whisper before the music stars. He looks over at me and winks. “Well played, Layne Hensen. Just for your information, I do love you. I really really do love you, and you didn’t have to trick me into saying so.”

  We’ve never said these words to each other before, and I’ll never forget the first time we’ve said them now.

  “You’re my world, beautiful, and I’d go to the ends of the earth for you. I love this girl!” My words were quiet, behind the mic’s range. His words were loud and clear for all ears. I might be in a little shock, but this could be another best moment of my life.

  “I wr
ote this song before I met my Dani-girl, but it was about my life, and then she showed up and ended up being the reason I wrote this song. Life is funny like that. Sometimes we never know what we’re planning for because there are times we plan, so things will happen. Then, they happen, and it’s all put together by a little magical thinking and fate.

  A stage guy, dressed in all black, hands Layne a stool that matches the one I’m sitting on, and he lowers the mic stand to face level. He strums his fingertips lightly against the guitar strings, and then the words I love pour from his mouth.

  Have you ever felt the unease of dread?

  Numbed by reflection and regret

  It’s okay to walk away

  Even holding on by a thread

  * * *

  She’s unable to breathe

  Snaked with fears

  Her stuttering heart,

  Drenched in frozen tears

  * * *

  I should listen to the words, but I’m falling more in love with him as I watch his face while he sings to me. To me. It’s just me. Everyone else is in darkness around us as the spotlight encircles our little world.

  How can my life be so perfect now when I was ready to consider an alternate ending a year-and-a-half ago? Is it all because of Layne? It seems like he’s the answer to everything.

  The rest of the night flashes with a blur, and I’m backstage with Sandra and Layne, chatting away with the rest of the band, watching celebrities walk past us, admiring our group. They’re admiring us. It’s bizarre.

  Sandra has been quiet, but she’s watching in awe. It’s like she’s taking it all in so she can take it with her to her next destination. She told me this a couple of months ago after we first met. She said she likes to stand behind everyone and take in life so she can put them away as memories and bring them with her wherever she goes. A person who watches sees all the details, and sometimes it’s better than being in the center of a moment.

  Sandra’s an artist, and I have spent countless hours soaking in her knowledge about painting and finding details in inanimate objects, pouring feelings out through bursts of paintbrush strokes. She said art had gotten her through the trials and tribulations of life and even helped in the earlier stages of cancer when she had a little more energy. She’s made me want to become an artist.

  “I guess we need to make you a member of the band now, huh?” Johnny asks me.

  “What? Why?” I laugh in response.

  “Mrs. Layne, ooooh,” he teases. “Are you two going to get married and live happily ever after?”

  He’s such a goof. “We’ve been dating for three months, goober.”

  “Did you call me a goober?”

  “Yeah, that’s the only way I can think to describe you.”

  “Fair enough,” he says, nudging me with his elbow.

  “So, you know, the song goes Dani and Layne, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G. When are the marriage and babies? I want to be a part of this!” Sal chimes into the conversation. Sal is always on the slower side of realizations, but no matter what he says, it’s hilarious the way he says it. It’s like he’s just catching up and needs to make a joke too.

  “Whoa, marriage and babies, that’s … okay, how about we take it one day at a time?”

  “I want marriage and babies,” Layne says. “In due time, of course.”

  His words surprise me. We’re only eighteen. Well, he’s nineteen now, but still. Plus, I have Aly. Layne takes my hand and pulls me away from the group, wrapping his arms around my neck. “Sorry. I’m just floating on air right now. Hearing you tell me you love me, I—God, I’ve never felt this way, Dani,” he whispers in my ear. “I love you so damn much, I can’t bear to spend a day without you, and I know we’re young and whatnot, but we both live life in the fast lane, right?”

  “What are you saying?” I ask him, feeling as though we’re spinning in circles, dancing like a prince and princess in a Disney movie. Although, maybe it’s everyone around us who are spinning in circles.

  “Not today, not tomorrow, and probably not this year or next, but I want to marry you and have kids, and I want to take Aly into my life too. I want it all, and I want it with you so badly. I want to be able to tell my mom she’s okay to go, knowing I’m happy and will always be happy with you.”

  His words rock me to the core. I understand, and it’s not a teenage boy with an outrageous hormone issue. This is a promise to himself and his mom. “I had no idea you were thinking this way,” I tell him.

  I have scribbled my name a million times with his last name, but I feel like I skipped a few steps along the teenage into adulthood transition. Having Aly has made me consider my future more than most eighteen-year-olds do, I’m sure. I want a husband and more kids someday. I want it all, and I couldn’t think of a better person to have a life with than Layne. “I want that too,” I tell him.

  My only fear is of what will happen when his name becomes bigger than either of us. He might not want an anchor holding him down anymore.

  Twenty-Two

  Current Day

  A warm hand is resting on my forehead, but I don’t know where I am. I must be on the couch. With more difficulty than expected, I force my eyes open, finding Layne and Aly hovering over me. “What happened?” Layne asks.

  “He was here,” I choke out, bringing my knees up and pushing myself backward as if he were still in the room somewhere.

  “Who?”

  “You know who,” I shout at him.

  Layne lifts his head, looking around the living room. “The door is closed, Dani.”

  “He was here,” I tell him again. “I know what I saw.”

  Layne and Aly give each other a look, a look that makes me feel like I’m on the outside of whatever they’re thinking. They’re thinking I’m crazy and making it all up because that’s the reputation I’ve given myself. “I’m going to call the doctor,” Layne tells Aly as if I can’t hear him.

  “No, don’t,” I groan. “Just listen.” I don’t have the energy to fight with him. I’m not going anywhere though. He needs to stop pushing.

  “Mom,” Aly says, running her hand down the side of my cheek. “It’s okay.”

  When did I become the child here? Why is she talking down to me?

  “Aly, I’m okay,” I assure her.

  “Shh,” she hushes me.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “Maybe you should call 9-1-1,” Aly tells Layne.

  “Why are you two ganging up on me? I’m fine. Can’t you see I’m okay?”

  Layne is in the distance with his phone against up against his ear; his finger is pressing against his other ear. He’s spinning in slow circles, which he does when he’s nervous. I can’t hear what he’s saying through Aly trying to calm me down, but I’m not going anywhere. Layne ends his call and tosses his phone onto our royal blue accent chair near the front door.

  Maybe if Layne looks outside, he will see evidence of a car in the driveway, or anything to tell him I’m not making up a story, but he doesn’t look. He assumes I’ve lost my mind.

  “They’re coming,” he tells Aly. Not me.

  “Who’s coming?” I ask, feeling more frantic.

  “It’s okay,” Layne tells me.

  “No, it’s not okay. I’m not leaving the house. Stop pushing me away.”

  “Sweetie, I’m not pushing you away,” Layne says.

  “You don’t call me 'sweetie.’ This isn’t real.”

  “Baby, it’s okay. Is that better?”

  “Stop it, Layne. Just stop it!”

  “Mom, you need to relax.”

  “Why are you two doing this?” I try to shout, but my words come out in a whisper.

  Layne helps Aly up from the couch as she cries. He wraps an arm around her and places a kiss on the top of her head. “Go watch for the ambulance,” he tells her.

  “No, Layne. I don’t want to go. Please, stop this!”

  Aly walks toward the front window, tears running down her chee
ks as she pulls the cream-colored linen curtain away from the window.

  The sun pours in, hitting me in the eye, and I squint from the brightness. Layne combs his fingers through my hair and places a kiss on my forehead. “It will be okay,” he croaks, sounding broken. “It has to be okay.”

  “I am okay, Layne. Please,” I beg.

  “I can’t sit around and watch you dissolve into the ground, Dani. That’s not love. This, me helping you, that’s love.”

  “No, Layne. You’re giving up on me. Why are you giving up on me? I would never give up on you. Ever. Please, don’t send me away.”

  “I’m not sending you away. I’m getting you help. It’s going to be okay.” He’s looking at me like I’ve done something horrible, or like he’s disturbed with my behavior. I didn’t do anything. He has to understand that I did nothing to cause this. I’m not lying, and yet he doesn’t believe me. I’ve never even given him a reason to think I would lie. Maybe he’s just tired of this, tired of me, and having to take care of me like I’m some kind of helpless person. I’m not helpless. I can take care of myself. I’ve told him this over and over, but he hasn’t listened. He has insisted on caring for me like I’m a child, but I’m capable. I should be capable of making my own decisions regarding my health too, and I don’t want to go to the damn hospital right now.

  “What’s okay? What will be okay? Just everything … until what? Until I forget about you?” Is that what he wants? It feels like that right now. He wants me to forget everything we’ve had and gone through together. How could he do this? How could Aly betray me too? I’ve done nothing but give the two of them my world, and more, and now, this is how they repay me.