Bring Me You

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by Ryleigh Andrews


  This morning the band had a radio interview and when they returned, Mia changed into her bikini, headed straight to the pool and proceeded to drink. By noon, she was pretty damn buzzed.

  She glanced at her vibrating phone on the table, next to her drink, and debated not looking at it, but a sense of duty made her check it. If she missed a text from Allie, she would make Mia pay for it in some way. She grabbed the phone and read the message—from Ethan, not Allie. “Get your ass on Skype.”

  “Uh oh! I’m in trouble!” Mia said, faking the playfulness she just didn’t feel. She glanced over at Todd, sitting next to her, his golden skin glistening from his quick dip into the pool. He jerked his head towards the exit.

  “Go up and talk to him,” Todd said. “I’ll hold your spot.”

  So with an exaggerated sigh and short nod to Todd, Mia pushed herself from the lounge chair and made her way up to her room. Though drunk, she could still figure out that his text meant trouble and that made her dread this call to him.

  She walked to the oversized desk and turned on her laptop. Her damn anxiety wouldn’t let her sit down. Her fucking computer was taking forever to start up, Mia thought as she fidgeted with the top of the chair. It didn’t want to be a part of this call either. Finally, it started up and she opened the program and clicked on Ethan’s name.

  He must have been waiting for her call because his face instantly popped up on her screen. It surprised her that she felt no happiness to see him. This was the first time she was genuinely mad at him. Hell, he didn’t look very happy, either. Oh well. That’s what he gets for sending a text like that.

  “My ass is here,” she said defiantly, knowing it would piss him off further, but saying it anyway. Right now, she really didn’t care.

  “Are you drunk right now?” he asked abruptly. Damn, how the fuck did he know that, she thought. Did it show?

  “Could be,” she replied, finally sitting down at the desk and adjusting the laptop screen.

  “Why?” he asked, his eyes closing in disbelief. He raked his fingers through his hair and sighed loudly.

  “You don’t want to know why,” she muttered, resting her heavy head in her hand. Telling him wouldn’t fix anything.

  “I asked, didn’t I?” he replied, his voice stiff, his jaw tense.

  “Fine,” she snapped, rubbing her forehead in frustration. “I can’t stand the way I’m feeling. I hate it. I just want to forget. So I drink and then I drink some more to make sure I’ve done the job well. After I have enough liquor in me, I can stomach going out and having fun.”

  “Looks like a lot of fun. Maybe too much fun.”

  “Why did you want me to call?” she demanded, tired of his accusatory tone.

  “Have you seen the pictures coming from your tour? The pictures of you in a bikini that barely covers you, frolicking at the beach or better yet, the ones of you lying topless. But wait, there are also the club pictures with strange men having their hands all over you.”

  “Seriously? Am I supposed to sit in my room and miss you the entire time? How am I supposed to act, Ethan? Because I’m not doing anything wrong. The whole goddamn time I’ve been out and about, all I think about is doing all this with you. Being with you,” she sobbed, stopping to collect herself. “So tell me what I’m supposed to do. What do you want? I’ll tell you what I want. I do not want to be here. Nor do I want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want you mad at me. I’m sorry,” she said, her emotions getting the better of her.

  “Don’t cry, Mia,” he begged.

  She laughed bitterly. “Why not? I’m quite good at it. If you haven’t guessed, Ethan, I am miserable.”

  “I know, suga. So am I. But you have to remember that you have me. That I’m a part of your life. I’m your fiancé and the choices that you make also affect me.”

  Now that made her feel even worse. She had disappointed him. She didn’t want that and resolved to try harder the rest of the tour, to not fall into the seductive pull of the alcohol and drugs. But her original dilemma was still there – not being with Ethan and she voiced that to him.

  “My problem is that I can’t forget you.”

  Mia

  Toronto, January 2008

  Mia and her bandmates arrived in Toronto late in the evening. She was thrilled to be back in North America after being in the Southern Hemisphere for the past five weeks, even if it was freezing. She was that much closer to home.

  She survived January without Ethan. Barely. Now she just needed to make it through February. The past couple weeks she’d been clean—no drugs or alcohol. She hoped she could make it through February like that. It was her goal anyway.

  As Allie corralled everyone into the hotel shuttle, Mia huddled in her warm jacket and checked her messages, hoping to have a welcome text from Ethan. He usually texted her whenever she arrived somewhere new. She’d come to expect them and the smile that they would bring. She scrolled through all her messages and frowned when there was nothing from him. She realized he was traveling today as well, off to Denver, but it still upset her.

  Mia climbed into the toasty van and sat next to Todd. He smiled warmly at her before turning his attention back to his phone. She and Todd had grown closer on this leg of the tour, getting high and drunk together.

  She was close to all three men but she had a different connection with Todd. He always joked that it was because they had the same birthday, albeit four years apart. He called her his twin because they had so much in common. They finished each other’s sentences. On stage that connection helped keep them in sync; helped make them the band they were.

  The shuttle departed and, as soon as it got on the highway, Mia felt her eyelids grow heavy. All of today’s traveling exhausted her. She couldn’t sleep on the plane ride from Sydney until they were about an hour away from landing in San Francisco and awoke feeling groggy and disoriented. She had no idea what time it was or day for that matter. She let Allie and Marty guide her where she needed to be. Once Mia was on the flight to Toronto, she was wide awake. Figures. She tried to sleep, but it wasn’t happening. Now that lack of sleep was catching up with her.

  Reclining in the seat, Mia closed her eyes to the world. When she awoke, the van had stopped and her head was resting on Todd’s comfy shoulder.

  “Hey, sleepy head,” he greeted her as she lifted her head. Mia rubbed her eyes. She did not want to be awake.

  “Hey,” she said groggily.

  “Allie’s getting our rooms. You’ll be in a bed soon enough.”

  “Okay,” she replied absently. She heard ‘bed soon.’ That’s all she cared about at the moment. He opened his arm to her, inviting her back to him. She closed her eyes once she found the comfort of his body again.

  Her eyes shot open when she heard Allie return. She gave everyone their room keys and Mia exited the van. The shock of cold air woke her enough to get her luggage and in the hotel. She entered her room and dropped her luggage on the floor. In front of her lay her destination—the huge bed covered in white. Kicking off her shoes and shedding her coat, Mia traversed the short distance to the bed. She collapsed and in an instant was dead to the world.

  The next morning, Mia awoke refreshed. Her body needed that long sleep. Rising from the bed, she looked out at the view before her. The sun shone bright onto the frozen beauty of Lake Ontario. It was Ontario, wasn’t it? Or was it Erie? She always got confused by the Great Lakes, except for Lake Michigan. She definitely knew where that one was.

  She laughed and crossed the room to where she had deposited her luggage last night. She grabbed her backpack and searched inside for her phone, hoping there was a text or something from Ethan.

  “Goddamn it,” Mia cried when she saw no text or missed call from him. Now she was pissed off. The last time she spoke with him was the day of the Skype call where they had argued about how she was acting while on tour, over two weeks ago. There had been no contact from him since. It’s not like she hadn’t tried to contact him. But there was n
o contact from him whatsoever.

  She needed a run. She got ready, wearing layers upon layers of her running clothes. She sent Allie a text as to where she would be and off she went. Mia turned her music up loud as she ran along the Lake Ontario shore. It was cold so she pulled the neck of her turtleneck over her mouth, feeling the warm, wet breaths with each exhale.

  She desperately needed to run away the stress, the pain, and the rejection she felt; otherwise she’d be high as a kite. Mia had been trying so hard to stay sober, but the lack of communication from Ethan troubled her and that killed her resolve.

  She didn’t have to be anywhere until one in the afternoon, so she pushed herself hard. After forty-five minutes, she decided to turn around and head back to the hotel. As she ran, she pictured her Chicago brownstone in front of her. One more month until she could finally lie down in her own bed and hopefully, fingers crossed, get to see Ethan.

  She missed him so much. Even though she saw him on her layover to Rio, it was only for eight hours. Eight wonderful hours. The last time she saw him before that was during his bye week in October. Over the past five months, she had only seen him for a total of nine days. Plus, she had to wait another month to see him again. Goddamn it! This was not working. Mia needed to see him, hear his voice. She needed to touch him, for him to touch her, to hold her. Steady her. Calm her. Center her.

  Mia ran halfway back and walked the rest of the way to cool down. She entered the hotel lobby and bumped into Allie, who’d been at the front desk.

  “Are you just getting back?” she exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I think I ran about eight or nine miles.”

  “Why are you running today? It’s freezing out there. Your face is beet red.”

  “Because I am in need of something that only Ethan can provide,” she said, walking to the elevator.

  Allie looked at her, perplexed. “What?”

  “Sex, Allie. S. E. X,” Mia said, spelling out the word for her.

  “Others can provide that …” she suggested.

  “I know that,” she said solemnly. “So I run. You should try it, Allie.”

  “Uh no, I’d rather have sex,” Allie said, clearly repulsed at the thought of running.

  “Me too,” Mia agreed, getting into the elevator. “When are you heading back to L.A.?”

  “After the Minnesota shows, but I’ll be back on tour before you guys head to D.C.”

  “And what are you doing out there again?” Mia asked, resting against the elevator wall, struggling to keep herself standing as exhaustion pulled her down.

  “Lining up a producer for the next album.”

  “Already?”

  “You guys said you’ve got a lot of material and wanted to start work on it once the tour was over. Ring a bell?”

  “We did? I don’t remember that. I want a long vacation,” she pouted.

  “That will be your honeymoon,” Allie said and that made Mia smile. Her honeymoon with her very sexy husband. Well, he wasn’t her husband yet, but soon.

  “Less than four months away now. How’s everything going with the planning? Anything I have to do?” Mia asked.

  “Yes, there is, but I’ll send you a list. We need to decide where this honeymoon will be and, in a couple weeks, it’ll be time to send out the invitations. We also have to decide on the rehearsal dinner site.”

  “Blah! Decisions! Have you talked to my fiancé about any of this?”

  “What do you think? He’s a planner.”

  “And he knows I am not!” she laughed. If it wasn’t for Allie and Ethan, this wedding would never be planned. “For the honeymoon, I want warmth, sand, water, and privacy. That’s non-negotiable. And for the rehearsal dinner, I kind of want to do burgers and fries, but he probably won’t like that.”

  “Seriously?”

  “No,” she laughed. “I actually want to have a French dinner. We can have pomme frites!”

  “And those are?”

  “French fries,” Mia said, chuckling at herself. Allie laughed and shook her head. The elevator doors opened and they headed to Mia’s room.

  “What’s first today?”

  “You need to shower,” Allie announced. Mia stuck her tongue out at her friend/manager. Over the past couple of years, her relationship with Allie had grown. She wasn’t just her manager. Allie was the best female friend Mia had. She definitely needed a friend like that with all the guys in her life. With the road crew and band, Mia was the only female with the exception of Allie. Having her be on tour with them was a blessing. “Then you have a couple phone interviews, which we can do here. Then the run-through.”

  Well, somewhat of a blessing. “Boo!” Mia said, letting them into her room.

  “Twenty minutes until the first interview.”

  “Talk while I shower,” Mia instructed as she peeled off all her layers on the way to the bathroom. “What time are we going on tonight?”

  “Eight forty-five.”

  “Any special people showing up for the show?” she asked, stepping into the shower. Mia had learned that there really wasn’t any room for modesty on the road. She didn’t have the time for it.

  “I don’t know that yet.”

  “What good are you?” Mia joked, placing her head under the showerhead, wetting her hair and lathering it with shampoo. “You know I’m kidding. You are the best.”

  “I know!” Allie said, knowing her worth. Mia chuckled as she rinsed the shampoo out of her hair. Her stomach decided it was time to protest the lack of food over the past twenty-four hours.

  “Hey, is it possible to get some food between now and these interviews?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Eggs, bacon, some toast, a banana and some other fruit. Whatever they have. Plus some water and hot tea.”

  “Geez, anything else?”

  “I’m starving! I haven’t eaten that well the past few days. It has finally caught up with me.”

  “Okay. I’ll make the call,” Allie said, leaving the bathroom.

  Mia lathered soap over her breasts and stomach and felt a small spark between her legs. She missed Ethan’s hands on her body. The way he made her feel. She really didn’t know if she could wait another month before seeing him again. She missed feeling good. It had been a long while since that had been the case. She was so tired of feeling sad and alone. Why hadn’t he texted or called her yet? Should she try again?

  After rinsing herself off, Mia furiously stalked out of the shower. She quickly dried off, threw on her robe, and left the bathroom to find Allie busy picking out some clothes for her.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Not at all. Thank you,” she said, happy that this one decision was made for her. She grabbed some underwear out of her bag and went about getting dressed.

  “Your food should be here shortly.”

  “Thanks! Are they calling us, or are we calling them?”

  “I’ll be calling them.”

  “Okay. I’m going to blow dry my hair,” Mia informed Allie as she headed back to the bathroom. She did a swift job of finishing getting ready and when she stepped out of the bathroom, her food had arrived.

  “Oh yes!” she exclaimed, munching on a piece of bacon. “Do I have time?”

  “A few minutes.”

  She nodded and scarfed down some breakfast. She sat down with her tea and just let the rest of her day happen. She was a good girl for Allie that day, letting Allie dictate her schedule with no arguments. When she could, Mia did her vocal exercises to prepare her voice for the show, and in her spare time, she checked her phone for any word from Ethan, which there was still none. But at least there was a message from Luke.

  Luke Stapleton

  January 30, 2008 749 PM

  Welcome back to the Northern Hemisphere!

  Thank you! I missed it.

  It missed you too.

  I’ve missed you.

  Same here, sweets. How are you doing?

  Just chilling in my dressing room b
efore the show.

  Wish I could be there.

  Where are you?

  Denver.

  She shook her head in frustration. Luke could text her but her own fiancé couldn’t? Was he still upset over their Skype conversation?

  Have you talked to Ethan?

  Yes.

  About me?

  Yes.

  Goddamn it! You and your fucking short answers. What was talked about?

  I don’t want to go there.

  Seriously?

  Don’t be mad.

  Too late. Could you tell the man I am supposed to marry that I am back in the Northern Hemisphere … just in case he was wondering?

  Mia threw her phone in her bag and stormed off. She knew she needed to calm down; the show started in thirty minutes. So she stalked down to the green room in search of a drink. Throwing open the door, she purposely made her way to the beverage table and grabbed a plastic cup, pouring herself a rather large shot of vodka, then slamming it and immediately pouring another and did it all over again.

  “Not a good choice, Mia.”

  She whipped around at the voice and found Marty sitting on the sofa with his guitar resting on his lap. She didn’t want to deal with his lectures right now. “What? Do you think I should have gone with the tequila?”

  “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his tone. Mia was thankful for him, but didn’t want to hear it. She wanted the numbness that being drunk brought her.

  “Of course!” she said sarcastically. “I always change my routine before a show.”

  “You never drink before a show. Never,” he informed her. Mia knew this. He was right and that made her feel awful.

  “I know. Bad day.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “No. I just want it to go away,” she said hopelessly.

  “How about you save the drinking until after the show? I’ll even join you.”

  “When did you become so responsible?”

  “When I saw that my friend was barely holding it together and needed my help,” he said, his light green-gray eyes full of understanding.

 

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