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See Her (Turn it Up Book 1)

Page 23

by Natalie Parker


  “The fuck did you say to her, man?” I ask, while staring at the beige carpet of the bus. I hear a sigh blow out of him, and after a moment, I chance a look up at him. A combination of regret and acceptance is all over his face as he psyches himself up to tell me what I don’t want to hear.

  “I uh… I told her… I told her how annoying it was that she seemed to be everywhere all the time.” I close my eyes, trying to keep it together, but he’s not done. “And… I said that it was kind of… convenient… how she married you pretty quickly when it looked like things were coming together for the band.” He has the decency to drop his head in shame, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Fuck!” My outburst startles him, and he lifts his head. I lower my voice, slightly, as I proceed to tear into him, only barely keeping myself in check. “What the hell, man?!” I start in. He looks at the floor, his mouth agape, shaking his head because he has no good response to this. I grip my hands together and clench my jaw as I wait out another wave of anger. When it passes, I go on. “I don’t know what makes you think you know jack shit, but I’m going to lay it out for you right now, so listen good.” He raises his head, paying attention like a good student. “Do you want to know how many times she brought up marriage before we eloped? Go ahead, asshole, guess,” I say, my voice raising slightly. His face still shows guilt with an added hint of panic as he shakes his head again. “Zero. She never brought up getting married. She was happy just being with me. But I wasn’t, I wanted more. I wanted to be tied to her in every possible way, so much so that I couldn’t wait another fucking minute. I dragged her to the nearest fucking chapel before she could change her mind because I love her so fucking much and can’t stand the thought of being away from her!”

  “I’m sorry. Jack, man… I was just frustrated. This whole thing has been like the twilight zone, and it’s been all I can do to keep up. I was already keyed up with that interview coming out of nowhere, and when she got in my way, I just…unloaded on her.” I nod at his admission, grinding my teeth.

  “Well, here’s more for you, jackass. She wanted to sit out the tour from the beginning. She thought my focus should be completely on you guys and the music, that this should be just our adventure.” I can see the change on Josh’s face as that sinks in. “I wouldn’t hear of us being apart and talked her into coming anyway. I wanted to have my cake, eat it too, and have everybody be okay with it,” I say, holding my arms out, admitting my fault in this. “She’s been trying to hang in there with all this too, but you just had to go and give her that last little nudge, didn’t you? Now here I am, a newlywed, and my wife is nowhere in sight. Thanks man; way to have your bandmate’s back.” I’m throwing jabs now. “And as far as this band goes, she’s encouraged me and supported us as a whole from the second I met her. I was hitting wall after wall before she came along.”

  “He’s right,” Matt’s voice says from the entryway. We both look up in surprise. I’ve been so high up on my soap box that I have no clue how long he’s been standing there. He’s leaning comfortably against the wall with his arms crossed so it must’ve been a while. He doesn’t blink as he looks down at Josh. “Didn’t you see that Jack started writing songs again after he met Mayzie? He hadn’t written anything in ages because he hadn’t been feeling anything.” Josh’s expression is utterly crestfallen. I just put my hands in my hair and look down again, fucking exhausted from everything that’s gone down in the last five hours, hell, the last two weeks. Matt, ever the leader, continues admonishing Josh. “Did you think we’d all just stay single forever, man? Mayzie’s his wife and you’d better deal with that, instead of treating her like she’s a detriment,” he says, nodding in my direction. I pin Josh with a steely glare, like I can make him get that through his head. “And Jack,” he turns to me, arms still crossed like he’s used to running this daycare center. “I’m sorry that Mayzie left, but don’t let her sacrifice be for nothing. Get your head in the game so that we can truly give this chance our all as a team. That’s why she did this.” He looks down, but I can see the look of gratitude coming over his face, battling with the authoritative one that was already in place. I blow out a breath and drop my head back. I’ll let his words sink in later. Right now, I’m done. I scrub my hands over my face and get up, heading for the bunks. I lay down, draw the curtain and throw my arm over my eyes, already missing my baby being crammed in here with me. And, just because the universe seems to think I need just one more punch to the junk, my hand comes in contact with something on the sheet. One of Mayzie’s hair ties. This seriously sucks.

  25

  Mayzie

  Did I mention this sucks? The next couple of days are painful and lonely. As promised, Jack calls me every day when he wakes up, which is usually late morning. Some days it’s even noon with the hours they’re keeping. We text throughout the day too, and he tries to FaceTime with me between sound checks and performances. Our conversations are always the same: I miss you, wish you were here, wish I was there, etc.

  Some mornings I wake up and just lay there for a while, trying to psyche myself up to shower and get my day started. This is what I’m doing on day three after leaving the tour when my phone rings on the bedside table. I reach for it, trying not to look at the photo from my wedding day beside it. When I pick it up, there’s an unfamiliar number on it, but I answer it anyway, just in case it’s a manager or someone from the tour.

  “Hello?” I answer, my forehead scrunched in uncertainty.

  “Mayzie? It’s Josh.” Josh? I shoot up in bed, my mind already going into overdrive about why he could possibly be calling. I’m freaking out that something happened to Jack or something.

  “Josh? Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Everything’s fine Mayzie, it’s okay,” he says in a surprisingly gentle tone.

  “Oh,” I say, immediately settling back down and finally reacting the way I should be, which is confused as fuck about why he’s calling me. “Okay…”

  “I got your number out of Jack’s phone. I felt like I should call and uh… apologize. I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I was so turned around with everything and could never seem to find my way with the whole thing. I was frustrated as fuck, and when things go sideways for me, I tend to get a little hot headed.”

  “Well…” I say, shrugging. “That’s understandable. The whole thing is like Alice in Wonderland on speed.” He chuckles in agreement before continuing.

  “Look, full disclosure, it was sometimes irritating trying to focus on all this with you hanging around, but I know why you were there, and you didn’t deserve that. I know you mean well and that you love my boy. When I’m angry, that’s how I often deal with it; I try to make myself feel better by making another person feel bad. It’s the wrong way to be, but there it is.”

  “Good to know. At least you recognize that about yourself.” I accept his apology and don’t feel like we should dwell, so I change the subject. “How’s it all going? You guys are in El Paso now, right?”

  “Yeah, it’s going okay. We’re just on high alert all the time. We feel like we can’t relax during the downtime without worrying about what they’re going to spring on us next.

  “Hang in there. It can only get easier, right?”

  “Hope so. I’m going to get going, I just wanted to make things right.”

  “Thanks, Josh. Talk to you later.”

  I hang up and flop back down on the pillows. I’m still down, and missing the shit out of Jack, but the heavy weight on my chest just eased about an ounce after Josh’s call. I feel like it brought things a millimeter closer to working out.

  When Jack calls me later that day, I tell him about my talk with Josh. I’m not sure Josh wanted me to say anything, but too bad. I decided it can only help things. Things seem a little lighter over the phone after that, so I must be right. And it gives me the tiniest bit of motivation to get back to moving through my day. I go through the motions, doing yoga, writing, and going to the dance stu
dio a lot. It is good to be back to hanging out with Annie, and I eat that up. The girl never fails to make me laugh and show me a good time. It helps the time go by too.

  Jack always tries to FaceTime me in that pocket of time between sound check and the show. Sometimes, he literally only has two minutes because the managers have packed that time with meet-and-greets or interviews, but he does it anyway, and it’s good. I always try to smile for him, even when it’s a phone call instead of FaceTime. Even when it’s a call with bad news…

  Jack

  I’m shouting into the mic up on Dallas’s stage, playing like it’s the last time that I ever will. Mayzie dances her cute ass off to deal with her emotions; I seem to be taking mine onto the stage with me, every show, to play through it. It’s therapeutic getting the crowd revved up, seeing them respond to the notes I’m playing and the words I’m singing. It’s a rush, and it gives me the boost I need to get through to the next day.

  Since Mayzie left, I’ve been trying to focus on all the necessary aspects of doing this tour. I smile at interviews, I’m early for sound checks, and I practice with any of the guys whenever they feel like we need to. My head and my heart are not completely in it, but I’m trying. At the very least, I’m faking it well. And as shitty as I’m feeling with missing her, it’s giving me something to write. I have a feeling a seriously angsty, depressing, but relatable song is going to come out of this. The shows are the one place I don’t have to put on a brave face, though. No trying or pretending about it, I’m one hundred percent real and giving it my all when I’m up on stage, with Mayzie’s hair tie on my wrist, reminding me to keep going.

  I’m going at it extra hard tonight, as we just found out the label extended our leg by two weeks. My emotions are at war with each other inside me, causing a serious storm to brew. On one hand, I’m fucking pumped that the band is doing that well. The extension means big things, and it’s so gratifying to know that we could actually get somewhere with this, especially after all this time. But you know damn well what else it means, and that reality is hard to take. I called Mayzie earlier and broke the news, and she was happy for the band, but I could feel her through the phone, and I know it was hard for her to hear in the same way it was for me. She’s feeling the same kind of torn.

  And while I’m unleashing my demons here on stage, and the crowd is totally eating it up, it’s not my best. I’m struggling with a malfunctioning inner ear monitor, causing my voice to go off pitch a few times and I mess up a couple of chords. The fans don’t seem to notice, but I do, and it sets me on edge. The damn thing was working fine at sound check but it’s fucking me up right now.

  After our set, I storm off the stage and head to the showers. When I’m out, I try to call Mayzie. Our conversation was a little rushed earlier as it was a few minutes before the show, and I told her I wanted to talk more about the tour extension after we were done. I send her a FaceTime request that goes unanswered which only further exacerbates my already unpleasant demeanor. She knew I was going to get a hold of her, where the hell is she? We really need to talk about things, communicate, even if it’s just to express how we’re feeling. George and Erin have told me this several times. It’s been almost two weeks and I’m going crazy. I’ve been giving the band my all, I’ve been seriously trying to anyway, but I’m reaching a point where I feel like something’s got to give. After taking some time to brood and stew over things, I decide to head to the after party and make my way to the SUVs. It’s not sounding like my idea of a good time right now, but I just don’t know what else to do with myself.

  By the time we reach the hotel, Mayzie still hasn’t called back. We head up the elevators and walk into a party that looks like it’s already been going on for hours, judging by the state some of these people are in. A couple of people are already passed out, and the place is overpopulated with females, some of whom have already lost their tops. This is ridiculous. I head over to where a hotel staff member is manning the bar and ask for a couple shots of Johnny Walker. He passes the tumbler to me and I slam the contents back. I turn and lean back against the bar, just taking in the chaos around me. After the burning in my stomach from the alcohol dissipates, I realize the lonely ache in my chest faded just a little bit with it. So I order another…

  Mayzie

  Another two weeks are added to the time I have left before I see Jack again. It’s like someone dumped more sand in the hourglass. This is good news, in the sense that the band is doing amazing. ‘See Her’ is being played all the time on the alternative station I listen to, and is apparently breaking through onto the Top 40 stations. The band is getting such rave reviews from all the local music columns in the cities they’ve hit. At this point, I won’t be surprised if they end up actually finishing the tour with The Shock Wave, which means all in all, another month and a half if that happens… which isn’t good news for my marriage. I’m not saying we can’t get through it; I refuse to believe that we can’t. But it just got so much harder. Fortunately, Annie is with me when I take the call from Jack. I take only a small comfort in the fact that he sounds as tore up as I do about not seeing each other for an additional two weeks, if not longer. Then I feel even worse that he can’t just be happy for himself about this. I try to sound excited and get him on that ride, but it doesn’t seem to work for either of us. When we hang up, Annie hands me my purse as she looks at her phone screen, checking the local theaters. She drags me to see the new stupid comedy that just came out. She knows I need to laugh and it does help, especially since she’s smuggled in some nips in her purse. I doubt the movie was really as funny as the shot of alcohol made us think it was, but oh well. She drops me off later, and while I feel like I could pass out, Jack wanted to call me after the show to talk more. I set my phone on the coffee table and head to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of wine. I sit down with it in the living room and flip on the TV. One glass turns into three, and before I know it, my eyes are drifting shut.

  When my eyes open early the next morning, I’m greeted by the site of my living room. What? I look around and sure enough, I’m in my clothes, ugh, and I’m horizontal on my couch. There’s an empty wine glass on the coffee table, and my mouth tastes disgusting. As I sit up, an even worse realization comes over me, like my insides are being enveloped in a dark, gloomy fog. It’s swirling and spreading from the pit of my stomach. I fell asleep on the damn couch waiting on a call from my husband that didn’t come. I feel a pinch of sadness in the middle of the fog. Desperate not to believe it, I pick up my phone and feel relieved to find a missed FaceTime request from Jack. How did I miss that? I am about to check the settings on my phone when the lightbulb in my groggy post-sleep state flickers to life. I’d put my phone on silent during the movie yesterday and had forgotten to switch it back, so this is my bad. Jack said he was going to call and he did. There is nothing to freak out about here. I’m so out of it. Coffee needs to happen, like right now. I head into the kitchen and get a pot going before letting the dogs out and putting food in their bowls. Once a mug of coffee is in my hand, I lean down on the kitchen island and start perusing social media on my phone. A headline pops up in my feed:

  “Turn It Up’s Jack Krasinski, enjoying his new rock star life.” What? There’s a thumbnail of a picture attached to the headline, and I click to enlarge it. My world falls apart at the sight that has taken over my phone’s screen. In the span of a second, darkness shrouds me, the breath leaves my lungs in a strangled gasp, and I feel my heart drop, actually plummet down to the lowest depths of my gut. The phone is shaking in my hand as I take in the image of Jack, laid out on a bed with some bottle blonde with a fake tan curled into his side. She’s in a bright pink bra and smiling for the camera as she leans her head on Jack’s shoulder.

  My body is shaking as I struggle to breathe, drawing breath in with sharp and shallow gasps. I turn around and slide down the cupboards until I’m sitting on the floor with my knees up in front of me. My phone drops with a clatter on the floor next to me
. I try desperately to calm myself, trying to breathe deeper, holding myself to stop the shaking. I close my eyes, only to find the image is burned into my retinas.

  This is a nightmare. I’m still asleep on that couch. Someone please wake me up.

  This can’t be happening. It just can’t. That can’t really be what I saw. With every ounce of bravery I have in me, I take a deep breath and hold it in as I reach for my phone. I pick it up and tap the screen on my phone with my thumb, bringing the image back up. My breath whooshes out of me again at the sight, but I quickly recover, concentrating on bringing the air in and out of my lungs as I try to dissect this evil photo.

  Jack’s eyes are closed. The chick’s thong straps are outside her jeans and strung over her hips like it’s 2001. He’s fully dressed, thank God. His arm is slack on the bed, making seemingly no effort to touch her. I grab onto that infinitesimal shred of hope and hold onto it for dear life, as I shake my head like I’m trying to rid my brain of any thoughts of what might be going on here. My hands still shaking, I scroll down to read the story. I see right away that this is The Scope, a celebrity news site that publishes pure garbage. Another tiny shred falls in front of me and I hang onto it as I read what the piece of shit rag has to say.

  With a chart-topping hit and the chance of a lifetime - touring with The Shock Wave for the Western and Southern legs of their summer tour, the front man of Turn it Up is living it up in his new world of bashes, booze, and babes!

  The story continues to inform its readers of how Jack was seen drinking like a fish and hitting on anything with a pulse and it makes me sick. I’m disgusted that they would write something like this, but a small part of me is scared shitless that any part of it is true. It’s clear he was at the after party last night, and it’s clear there were desperate skanky bitches present. That is enough to make me want to heave. And The Scope apparently helped themselves to this girl’s Instagram account for the photo when they saw that she tagged Jack’s username.

 

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