Memories of Us

by Fabiola Francisco

  “Yup,” Jason agrees.

  “The west coast?” My head is throbbing as I finish the last of my beer. “I still can’t believe she blocked me.” It hurts to think she went to that extreme. We were everything to each other. Now she’s living some life I never even knew she wanted, and I’m left here to drink and write about her and wonder what the hell I’m going to do for the rest of my life if I can’t get to her.

  “Listen, guys, I appreciate this but I think I’m gonna head home. I need to show up tomorrow clear and ready to work. I fucked up today. Sorry about that.” My head is spinning with this revelation.

  “No need to apologize. Seriously. Get rest and don’t overthink it. If she’s supposed to be your girl, she’ll come around,” Cash reassures me.

  I nod and thank them.

  I strum the chords of my guitar, playing anything that will come to me. Anything that will wash away the hurt I feel and the frustration of three years that drowns me. I look down at the blank page next to me and stare at it. My mind’s been blank for days now. The bit of writing I’ve done is mechanical and necessary for my job, but the inspiration has left along with the hope of ever holding Mackenzie in my arms again. The hope of feeling her lips on mine. The dreams we built slip away and I question if staying here is worth it.

  I rest the guitar on my lap and scrub my face, sighing.

  I can go back, beg my dad to forgive me, and work for him. Hell, I can buy a ranch in the middle of nowhere and live there, raising cattle, a couple of horses, and a farm dog. The memory of the life I had a distant memory as I sip whiskey and watch the days pass with each sunset. Every song I write could go into a drawer, saved for the day I run into her again, and I give her all the years we missed penned by hand.

  Will she be happy, married with a kid or two?

  That thought pains me and I shut my eyes, dropping the guitar next to me on the couch.

  My dreams are flushed

  With you gone,

  You’re so far gone

  I write those words on the blank page before they leave me the way she did. The way I left her. We both failed each other. I bow my head and clench my jaw.

  We had it all going for us. We were the town’s sweetheart couple. Now, the only person who cares about that is me.

  I walk into my room and find the one thing I need right now. Memories cloud my judgment as I stare at the picture of us—two kids with stars in their eyes and a hopeful future.

  I begin to play one of the first songs I ever wrote for her with her face next to me and what’s left of the bottle of Jack on my other side. I played it for her at the watermill one night. I was so excited to show her what I’d been working on. Compared to all I’ve learned, that song isn’t anything special to the outside world, but it’s special to us. She looked at me as if I was a god granting her every wish she ever had, and I stood there, damn proud to be the reason she smiled the way she did.

  I take a swig of whiskey before I continue playing an endless song about a love that is no longer reciprocated.

  Is she sleeping with him right now?

  I torture myself with images of her with someone else. She always looked so beautiful beneath me, and I can’t accept she’s the same way with another man. I can’t imagine her wearing a white dress for anyone else but me.

  I drink some more.

  I strum more chords.

  I hold back tears.

  I’m man enough to admit my feelings. I’m fucking gone right now. The one woman I can’t live without is living without me. At this point, alcohol takes over and my pride leaves as I break down like a pathetic man in love.

  After a few more sips of Jack, I turn on my laptop and find the camera. I hit record and sit back on the couch. I ignore my own reflection of red-rimmed eyes and flushed face.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve recorded anything and shared it here. You see, I lost someone and can’t seem to reach her. Maybe this will help her see we’re wastin’ time being apart.”

  I look down at my guitar and begin playing.

  You and me,

  Holding onto the night sky,

  Lovin’ endlessly

  Until the sunrise

  We loved wild and free,

  You had my heart,

  And I let you keep it

  Now I live with the bitter taste

  Of heartache,

  Missing you at night

  And dreaming of you during the day

  You went off and left me,

  And I broke my promise,

  This can’t be how it ends

  I refuse to let it end

  We loved wild and free,

  You had my heart,

  And I let you keep it

  Now I live with the bitter taste

  Of heartache,

  Missing you at night

  And dreaming of you during the day

  I love you still

  And always will,

  Because no one else

  Will be good enough for me,

  You’re the one I love

  And I’ll never stop

  I’ll never stop lovin’ you

  Even if a million years pass

  I finish the song and let the words ring around this empty apartment. I hit stop on the recording and don’t bother watching it or editing. I upload to my YouTube channel and shut down my laptop. Maybe by some miracle of God she watches it.

  I look around my plain apartment, the space lacking the homey feel. I’ve got no warmth to place in here.

  A buzzing sound draws my eyes to the coffee table. I pick up my phone and open my text messages.

  Dex: bro u shoulda come w me to riot… songs depressing as hell. U drinkin?

  Hunter: wat r u tlakin about?

  Hunter: tlkain

  Hunter: fuck it.. u kno what I mean

  Dex: u definitely drunk.. the song u posted on youtube

  Hunter: not drunk and its a good song

  Dex: for a funeral but already got over 200 views

  Hunter: wat?

  Dex: yea go check

  Hunter: motherfucker … how?

  Dex: people like ur drepressing shit

  Hunter: whatever I’m going to bed have fun

  Dex: will do.. ran into Reese

  Hunter: youre gonna fuck up ur future

  Dex: relax… go to sleep old man

  I don’t bother responding. I leave my stuff where it is and go to bed with the hopes that she’ll see the video if it’s had 200 views in a few minutes. I don’t know if it will make her contact me or not, but it’s worth a shot. The room spins as I stare at the ceiling with blurred vision. I gotta stop drinking the whiskey.

  “You went with the song,” Cash smirks, leaning back on the couch in the studio.

  I sit next to him and grab the paper on the coffee table to see what he added to the song. I guess he saw my video.

  “Not gonna say anything?” Jason raises his eyebrows.

  “You can do better than this, Cash.” I hold up the paper.

  “Burn,” Ryder laughs.

  “This is good stuff.” Cash tears the paper from my hand and reads it over. He scratches the side of his head and stares intently. “It is good.” He looks up at me, reassuring himself of his talent.

  I laugh. One thing I learned right away about Cash Knight is that his music is his pride and joy. We have that in common, which is why I think we work well together.

  “Your video is going viral. Mackenzie must’ve seen it.”

  “Viral?” I look at Jason.

  “Yup. Over a million views.”

  “What the fuck? Overnight?”

  “People love a sad love story,” he shrugs. “Besides, you’re talented. You really don’t want to record?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. That was our dream.” I’ve been less worried making a name for myself in the public and more determined to make myself known in the industry. Then, one video upload has me spreading around the internet like wildfire. Be
fore this, my older videos would get a few thousand views over a few days. A million in a night is fucking crazy.

  “You should consider it,” Cash adds. “You could open for us. You’ve got a decent list of songs you could start with. Make an EP.”

  I shake my head, stopping him. “I rather stay behind the scenes. Write and live a quiet life.” My jaw ticks.

  “Well, that may not be the case at the moment. Women are going crazy with your video. Fair warning, Mackenzie’s name is out. Someone, I guess from your hometown, spilled about who the woman was.” Cash gives me an apologetic shrug.

  “Fuck.” I put my head in my hands and pull my hair. “She’s gonna kill me,” I growl.

  “Bright side, maybe this will get her to contact you. Even if it’s to curse you out.” Cole makes it sound easy.

  I lift my head to look at him, and then the rest of the guys. “You guys love talkin’ about this, huh?”

  “Everyone loves a sad love story,” Jason repeats.

  “Can we just work on music?” I plead, hoping to get to work and forget about this song for a few hours.

  “Sure,” Cash grabs the paper. “What do you think about the additions?”

  “I like them. What about something like this—” My phone rings and I hit ignore before continuing. “Sorry about that.”

  “You wanna get that?” Cash nods toward my phone.

  “Nah. It’s a friend of mine. I’ll call him back later. Okay, this is what I was thinking—

  I wake up with you in my arms/ Asking God what I did/ To deserve your love.” I sing out the last word, Mackenzie in my mind as I do so.

  “That’s good, kid,” Ryder nods.

  We continue to bounce ideas until I can’t deal with the buzzing of my text messages and take a look at my phone. I close my eyes and sigh. “Sorry, guys. I gotta take this.”

  “Go for it. We could use a break anyway.” Cash stands and stretches.

  I walk downstairs and outside, shielding my face from the sun and call Jack.

  “Hey man, everyone is talking about your video. I wanted to give you a head’s up. The town is buzzing with talk about you and Mackenzie,” his words are rushed.

  “Who the hell said it was about her? I heard someone from town.” I bite down hard, my jaw locking. I didn’t want her name spread for the world to know.

  “I think it was SueEllen.”

  “Fuck,” I growl. “I had no idea so many people would see it. How did this even happen?”

  “People started sharing. I will say,” he chuckles. “Some of these comments are hilarious. You have a line of women willing to take her place. Some comments aren’t as nice, going as far as calling Mackenzie names for breaking your heart,” Jack’s voice turns more serious.

  I close my eyes and exhale while I pace the parking lot. I never meant for this to happen. “This is not what I wanted.”

  “Welcome to the world of the internet. I’m sure she’s seen it. She must’ve.”

  “Thanks for the head’s up. Have you seen my mom?” I haven’t heard from her, but it can’t be fun being there if everyone’s talking about this. I know our town, and they could win a gossip competition without trying.

  “I haven’t.”

  “I’ll call her later. Thanks, bro. Tell Julie I said hi,” air shoots out of my mouth.

  “Anytime. Good luck.” He hangs up without waiting for me to reply and I stare up at the sky. This wasn’t meant to make Mackenzie look like the enemy. I’m the enemy. I’m the one who fucked up.

  As soon as I walk back into the studio, I take a seat and scribble something on the paper we’re working on.

  “Want a beer?” Cole asks.

  “Please,” I growl. The polite word a contrast to my mood. I gotta fix this.

  I grab my laptop and a cold beer from the fridge and sit on the couch. After the chaos earlier today with the video I posted last night, I need to do something to clear the air.

  I saw the comments Jack was referring to. After scrolling through a few, I closed the app on my phone, pissed people would stoop so low. If those women think they could just take her place, they’re very much mistaken. As tempted as I was to reply to a few, the guys suggested I don’t. I hope Mackenzie didn’t see all that. I’d hate for her to even think some of what they said is true. None of it is. Not even close.

  I open up the camera for the second day in a row and clear my throat. No whiskey clouding my words this time.

  “The last thing I expected was for so many people to view my video last night. Over a million views. That’s fucking crazy, guys.” I run my hand through my hair as I pause to collect my thoughts.

  “It was a moment of weakness and desperation. Here’s the thing though, the woman I sang for, she’s no enemy. She’s never done anything wrong. I read some of the comments and frankly, had to stop before I lost my shit. To know that so many of you are quick to judge someone you don’t even know is sad. It makes me sad for humanity.

  “I hate that you all know her name now. I hate that my attempt at getting to her may have pushed her away even more. I wasn’t thinkin’ when I sang, but I don’t regret it. If for whatever reason she watches this, I hope she knows I meant e’ry word and more that I couldn’t express. But I never meant for this to become something that isn’t ,‘cause she’s one of the best people on this planet. So please, don’t bash her ‘cause I’m an asshole.

  “If y’all wanna really help, share this video. It’s the only way I have of apologizing that may get to her. I’ll keep her name to myself, but she knows who she is. If you’re listening, my feels are stronger than the watermill. Thanks y’all, and I hope you think about others’ feelings before you make an irreversible comment on social media. Go out and love instead of bash on the internet.” I take a sip of my beer and finish. “Night y’all.”

  I upload the video and shut down my computer.

  I SLAM MY LAPTOP shut and look at the television as if I were super interested in what I’m watching on the… Discovery Channel? I fumble with the remote to change the channel as I hear footsteps.

  “They didn’t have fortune cookies.” Justin sits next to me with the bags of takeout, his eyes rolling.

  “Okay.” I shrug.

  “Okay?” He looks at me with furrowed brows, his voice incredulous. “Those are my favorite. It’s why I agreed to Chinese.”

  I turn to look at him. “What do you want me to say?” My voice is flat, my fight deflated.

  “Nothing,” he sighs. “You gonna serve us?” He holds the bag out to me.

  “You couldn’t grab plates as you passed the kitchen?” I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.

  “I picked up the food. Besides, that’s what I have you for.” He laughs, and I squint my eyes.

  “Seriously?” I stand and yank the bag from his hand and grab plates. I hate when he jokes like that. Every time I draw his attention to it he says I’m too sensitive, but my boyfriend shouldn’t be saying things like that.

  I close my eyes a second and breathe. Tears well behind my lids as I try to hold myself together.

  “Are you almost done?” Justin yells from the living room. Today is one of those days I’d kick him out, with the Chinese food and all. It’s not like I have much of an appetite at the moment.

  “Here.” I hand him his plate and sit next to him, placing my plate on the coffee table. “You couldn’t grab the tray tables?” I resist rolling my eyes.

  He ignores me, which he does when he thinks I’m nagging. All I want is balance.

  I open the tables and place them in front of each spot.

  “Thanks for the drink,” he stands and walks into the kitchen.

  “Seriously?” I cross my arms.

  “What? Are you PMSing?” He turns to look at me with pursed lips, sitting back down. He didn’t even have the decency to get me a glass of water.

  “You know what, I’m not hungry anymore. Actually, I want to be alone. You can take the food, your drink, take the damn table.
” I clench my teeth.

  “What?” His eyebrows scrunch as if he has no idea why I’d be pissed.

  “I need you to leave,” I demand.

  “But…”

  “Don’t bother, Justin. I need time alone.” I stay seated on the couch, not bothering to get close to him.

  He pushes the tray table forward, his plate sliding off and hitting the tile. “Keep the food. I wasn’t going to stay much later in this dump of a neighborhood anyway.”

  He stalks to the door and slams it, the sound echoing off the white walls and bouncing away from my heart.

  I put my head in my hands and cry. Not for the man that just slammed my door, but for the one that sang to me from miles away.

  I tried to avoid watching the video when it popped up on my social media feed. I tried to pretend I didn’t care. I’ve spent three years pretending. When I finally feel like I’m ready to move on, I see this. What Hunter and I had is over. It was a young love that was never meant to survive heartache.

  But hearing him sing. Seeing the pain on his face. I missed him. For a brief moment in time I allowed myself to slip into the truth I’m covering up—Hunter Daniels will always own my heart, even if we no longer have a future.

  Then I made the mistake of reading the comments, see if anyone mentioned my name. What I found instead were hundreds of women willing to give him what I gave up. Words that were hateful about me when they don’t even know me. She’s probably some bitch. He deserves better. I’d make him happier.

  Tears stream down my face.

  I’d forgotten how talented he is and how much his chocolate eyes spoke to me. I’ve avoided him for three years, overcoming what happened, but eventually he caught up with me.

  I look to my right to see the plate of food on the floor. I take my time reaching it and pick it up scooping as much as I can onto it before grabbing the broom.

  Justin.

  I can’t believe him. He jokes a lot about the reason he has me—some housewife at his beck and call—but I hate he does that. I hate that he throws jabs at me about my role in his life. I’m not his maid or some trophy he won.