by Michelle Lee
I FEEL THE sudden vibration on my hip when I realize my phone is going off. I tug it out of my pocket and notice I have a text. Upon opening the screen, a white hot heat consumes me, and I begin to feel dizzy. The text is from Dash. With a shaky finger, I scroll through it. He simply says he’s in New York waiting to board his next flight and that he misses me. I miss him so much too. The emotional tirade threatens to overtake me once again, and I force it down in order to text him the only word I can, the only word that has been a lifeboat to me since he left—soon. I have to hit clear and delete a few times just trying to type this one word, my trembling fingers not cooperating. Finally, I get them to comply and send him the single most important word in the dictionary at the moment—soon. I place the phone on my bedside table and let the tirade work its way through my body.
I slowly feel myself begin to drift off, and I am lost in that awakened, dream-like state, when I feel a pair of arms wrap around me from behind. They are small but comforting. I feel another set of arms wrap around the front of me, and they are familiar and comforting as well. My ears are teased with the sounds of “Shhh” and “We’re here” and “It will be okay, we promise.” The voices I recognize, and at that moment the pain tears me apart, finally ripping me to shreds, and all my emotion pours out of me like my body is a crumbling dam. When I don’t think I have anything left in me, my body reminds me it does and another round begins. I have nothing left. I feel like I’m an empty hollow shell. The sobs subside, darkness creeps into my mind, and I drift off to sleep.
I WAKE UP and find myself alone. Alone has suddenly become such an ugly word. In the past, I didn’t mind being alone. Actually, I welcomed it. The seclusion I felt in my apartment was always welcomed, being shut off from the outside world for hours, sometimes days at time, busying myself with work on my laptop or just being. But now, now things were different. Now, there is Dash. Now I want anything other than being alone.
I feel my throat tighten, and the ever-present lump makes another appearance. I don’t think I have anything left in me. I take a few deep, cleansing breaths, hoping to keep my emotional monkey off my back when I suddenly hear voices coming from the other room. I listen intently, and I can barely make them out. My mind rapidly goes over last night’s events, and it recalls warm, comforting, small arms wrapping around me. Several arms. Val and Tracy were here, and they still are. I don’t remember them coming over, but they are definitely here now.
I slink my way out of bed, stretching, trying to work out the kinks in my body that my emotional tirade has left behind. With a heavy heart, I slowly make my way down the hall when something Tracy says makes me stop dead in my tracks.
“Val, I don’t know. I’ve never, ever seen her like this. I mean, it’s almost as if she’s missing a piece of herself. I’m not gonna lie to you. It scared the shit out of me to see her like that last night. I seriously want to find some bleach and get it out of my head,” Tracy says her voice trembling.
“I know, Trace. It broke my heart as well. Jules has definitely fallen hard for Dash, and I just hope… well, I just hope this doesn’t end badly,” Val adds, sounding a bit skeptical.
“What do you mean, end badly?” Tracy asks the question for me.
“Look, I’ve been in the PR game a long time now, and I’ve been around celebrities and their relationships. Jules is going to be under a lot of pressure and under the microscope as well. Our girl can barely stand up and give a toast in front of a bunch of people she knows. Dating Dash, she will be in the proverbial spotlight constantly. I’ve seen what that can do to people that didn’t ask to be in it. Just like in this magazine here. We know it’s Jules. Thankfully Dash is always aware of those damn vultures and was able to shield her. Otherwise, those ingrates would be camped out at her fucking door. All I’m saying is it’s going to be really hard for her, and I just hope she’s ready for that,” Val informs Tracy.
Spotlight? I really never gave that any thought. What the hell do I know about dating someone famous? Dash is definitely famous, and his star is on the rise. Am I getting in way over my head? No, no I’m not. Being with Dash is definitely worth a few pictures and being in the spotlight.
I really don’t want to hear any more of their commentary on my relationship and lack of spotlight experience, so I begin to walk toward them, making my feet shuffle loudly against the hardwood, alerting them I am entering the room. I walk into the living room, and two sets of very concerned eyes are staring at me. I can see the hurt in their expressions. My girls are feeling a small piece of my pain, and I love them for that.
“Hi,” I utter, my voice sounding smaller than I thought it would.
“Hey, honey. Come here,” Tracy whispers, patting the space between her and Val on the couch.
I shuffle my way over to them, and it takes all my energy to sit down. As soon as my ass hits the cushion, those warm, comforting arms are wrapped around me again. I reach my arms up between the three of us and cup their cheeks, bringing their heads closer to mine.
“Thanks, guys,” I manage to speak as my throat begins to tighten yet again.
They both embrace me tightly before pulling away.
“So, since the three of us are off today, I thought some girl bonding was in order. I’ve made appointments for the three of us for manis, pedis, facials and massages. And there is no backing out or protesting. You, love, deserve to be pampered,” Tracy demands, her shoulder nudging me.
“Okay,” I acquiesce.
Val and Tracy both look at each other, looking very confused. I guess they figured I would put up a fight like I usually do, but I don’t have any fight in me. Besides, it all actually sounds like something I need right now.
“Great. Then I thought we could do a little shopping and then get some takeout, watch some movies, and just hang out, like a good old sleepover,” Tracy continues, a little taken aback by my reaction as Val watches for my usual inevitable response.
“Sounds good. I’m gonna go take a shower, and then we can go?” I ask as if the day’s plans are a normal occurrence for me.
“Okay, suuure,” Val replies, looking at Tracy, her brow slightly furrowed.
I pat them both on the knees before I get up and start to head toward the hall. I turn around, and the two of them are just staring at me, completely dumbfounded. “Thanks, guys, for everything. I’m… I’m… just one lucky girl to have friends like you. Just…” I trail off, the tears beginning to swell in my eyes.
In a flash, the two of them are at my side, and I am once again wrapped in their friendship.
“Just know we’re here for you,” Tracy softly says near my ear.
“Always,” Val finishes.
I squeeze them both to me, holding them as tight as I can as if they are all I have left in the world. They both kiss my cheeks, and I kiss them back before I head down the hall to take my shower. Hopefully the steamy shower will not only ease my aching muscles, but erase some of my pain of being away from Dash. A girl can hope, can’t she?
Much to my surprise, my girls were right on the money with our plans for the day. The manis, pedis, facials and massages were very cathartic. I actually feel like a new woman. Suzie worked her magic fingers, and my muscles are lax. The tightness that the barrage of tears and shuddering that racked my body has lessened. I still feel the dull pain of being away from Dash, though. However, I plan on pushing through it so my girls and I can have a proper sleepover.
On our way back, we stop by our favorite Thai place and get way too much food to go. Tracy insists we stop and get some ice cream, but when I ask if she’s checked out my freezer lately, she seems to get the point I’m trying to make. With our food in tow, we hit the convenience store to get DVDs from Redbox to complete this night’s festivities. While in the store, I notice a couple of girls just staring at me giggling, and it’s bugging the fucking shit out of me.
“Hey, Tracy, do I have something on my face?” I ask, a little more than annoyed.
“Uh, no. You
r skin is perfection thanks to Helene. Why?” she answers with a huge “I told you it would be fun” look on her face.
“Then why in the hell are those two…” I motion to the two girls giggling in the corner “…just staring at me like I have four heads?”
“Huh, good question,” she responds. She starts to make her way over to the two unsuspecting girls, I follow right behind.
As we approach, the girls stiffen and I can only imagine the face Tracy is sporting right now. She might be tiny and all sweet looking, but her eyes can definitely throw daggers. And I wouldn’t want to mess with her when they do.
“All right, why in the hell do you two fashion victims continue to stare at my friend here? I know she’s gorgeous, but she doesn’t play for that team. So what the fuck gives?” Tracy’s voice is a bit lower than usual, trying to sound all tough.
“We, um, um, she’s, um…” the girl brave enough to answer stammers.
“She um what? Is there something wrong with your ability to form a coherent thought, let alone sentence? Spill!” Tracy demands, her voice very loud and commanding. She’s even scaring me a little.
The other girl nudges the incoherent girl and she eventually shoves a magazine at Tracy.
Tracy takes the magazine. “Fuck.”
I grab the magazine from her, and there in full techno-color is Dash and me kissing. It looks like the picture was taken with a telephoto lens during one of the times I stopped by the warehouse to watch the guys rehearse.
“That’s you, right?” Incoherent girl finally puts understandable words together, pointing from the picture to me.
“Uh, yeah, I guess that is me,” I reply, my mind going about fifty thousand miles per hour.
“Wow, you’re dating Dash Ford. He is like the hottest, greatest singer ever. Can we have your autograph?” the other girl asks, handing me a pen.
“You want my autograph?” I ask, a little confused.
“Uh, yeah, we do. You’ve touched him,” incoherent girl squeals.
I can’t deny that. I take the pen and scribble my signature on the picture.
“What’s he really like?” the other asks, her eyes practically bugging out of her head.
“He’s, uh, he’s great, just like you said,” I say without really thinking. I’m totally thrown for a loop here.
I notice Val approach. She takes a look at the two girls and then the magazine.
“All right, groupies. You’ve got your autograph, now buzz off,” she coldly demands.
And just like that, the two girls run off like they’ve seen a fucking ghost. Leave it to Val to scare the bejesus out of a couple of teenage girls.
“Val, was that absolutely…” Tracy begins, but Val cuts her off.
“Yes it was. Jules, you better get used to this, and fast. It appears the cat is out of the bag. I’ll do all I can from my end. If you don’t want to get harassed, you’re gonna have to take care of things on your end, and I will definitely help you with that,” she informs me in her best business-like tone.
“Val, those two girls weren’t harassing me,” I tell her with a slight chuckle. I think those girls were more harassed by my two companions then the other way around.
“Maybe not, but still, it’s gonna happen. People apparently know who you are now. And if people know, there’s only one way they do. Paparazzi,” she says, pointing to the front windows of the convenience store.
I didn’t even notice them while we were perusing the Redbox, but there, outside, are a couple of guys with cameras, their flashes going off.
“Wow, I didn’t even notice them,” I say, completely surprised.
“I did, and I’ve already taken care of how we are going to get out of here so we don’t have to be blinded by their fucking flashes. The manager said we can go out the back. I’ve got our movies, so let’s blow this Popsicle stand,” Val enlightens.
Tracy and I simply look at each other and then follow Val to the back of the store. Val peeks her head out first and motions for us to follow. Apparently, the coast is clear. We make our way past the dumpster to the nearby side street, and Val instantly hails a taxi. The three of us pile in undetected. My heart is racing, I feel like I’ve just pulled off some James Bond covert mission. The taxi pulls out into traffic, leaving the photographers behind.
I just sit in the back of the cab, flanked by my two best friends, unable to comprehend what the hell just happened. It is all just surreal. When did this suddenly become my life? I’m just ordinary Jules Bennett. No one has ever wanted my autograph—well, except Hank, when I had my first review published—but other than him, no one. And no one has ever wanted to take my picture before, other than for the usual vacation time with my girls. But even then, I pretty much shied away from it, always being the one to take the picture. I am lost in my thoughts when the cab pulls up to my building.
“Well, they definitely know who you are now.” Tracy’s voice brings me out of my head, and I notice her pointing to a few photographers poised outside the building.
“We can go to my place,” Val informs us.
“No,” I immediately respond, “I’m not going to hide from them. This is something I guess I’m just going to have to get used to and deal with if I’m going to be with Dash.” It’s a small price to pay, actually. Being with Dash is worth everything and anything.
“Alrighty then. Let’s do this.” Tracy puffs up.
The three of us exit the taxi. I feel like a fucking Oreo, because I am sandwiched between my girls. They are going to do their damnedest to protect me any way they can. We make our way toward the paparazzi, their flash bulbs going off. They begin to shout various questions at me, but Val nudges me, indicating I should just keep my mouth shut. I do as I’m nudged because after all, she is the expert here. The three of us make our way past them and enter the sanctuary of my apartment building. Flashes are still going off behind us as we make our way further out of sight.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Tracy says as we get in the elevator.
“Jules, just remember you don’t owe them anything. But I will say this—if you play nice, they play nice. Just remember that,” Val explains, deep concern laced in her voice.
“Okay.” is all I can say, still trying to understand and take in everything that has transpired in the last few moments.
We settle in, making ourselves extremely comfy with enough blankets and pillows to rival any slumber party. Tracy has popped a huge-ass bowl of popcorn and raided my freezer for a couple of pints of Ben and Jerry’s finest.
“So, what should we watch first, Sixteen Candles, our all-time fav, or something more current, like the funny romantic comedy The Ugly Truth or the hilarious, mind-numbing The Hangover?” Val questions, displaying each DVD as if she was Vanna White.
“Well, as much as I love Gerard Butler and Bradley Cooper, I say we go with Jake Ryan,” Tracy voices her opinion.
“You like Jake, Jake’s my boy,” I squeal, doing my best impression of Michael Anthony Hall.
“Sixteen Candles it is,” Val acknowledges as she puts the disc in the player.
As the movie menu cues up, my mind is instantly flooded with images of Dash being my own personal Jake Ryan the night he surprised me in Napa, although he returned a lip gloss and not my pair of panties. I feel my lips curl up and form probably a goofy smile while my cheeks begin to heat up.
“Jules, Michael Schoeffling hasn’t even made an appearance yet, and already you’re getting all flustered over there,” Val teases.
“I think our Jules has just remembered a rockstar returning a lip gloss. Hey, by the way, where is that lip gloss? It’s my fav,” Tracy continues with the teasing.
I know my face is beet red because I could probably fry an egg on them. I simply stick my tongue out at both of them while throwing some popcorn as well. Next thing I know, I am covered in popcorn too and can’t breathe because I am laughing so fucking hard. After a five-minute laughing fit the three of us all partake in, Tracy hits play
and our movie begins.
“Thanks guys, I really needed this. I love you both,” I practically gush.
“Awwww, we love you too,” Tracy and Val respond in unison, both smothering me in a group hug.
We settle into the pillows and watch our movie. All the while, I can’t help but turn my thoughts to Dash from time to time, wondering what is he doing and hoping he is doing better than I am.
THE NEXT COUPLE of weeks drag by. I had expected them to. I try to keep myself busy, mostly with work stuff. Hank keeps on insisting I take some time off. Apparently, I’m not as good as I thought I was at covering up my emotions. He has caught me a couple of times zoning out, and one time even crying. It was really embarrassing, especially when I explained to him why.
Dealing with the paparazzi has gotten easier. I walk, they take their pictures, and ask a couple of questions. Against Val’s advice, I did answer them a couple of times. Nothing major, just if my name was Jules Bennett and if I was dating Dash Ford. I really didn’t voice my answer. I just nodded my head, but that seemed to appease them, for now.
Dash and I have been talking to each other every day. He tells me the tour is going perfectly, but it would be even more perfect if I was there with him. I keep telling him soon. We’ve talked, texted, and even Skyped as well. The first time we video chatted, I had no clue what I was doing. Thank God Dash had sent over some techie to set it all up. Tech savvy I definitely am not. Sure, I can type and figure things out at work with my computer and laptop, but beyond that, no luck.
One night, things got a little hot and I surprised Dash and myself, as well, with a little show, so to speak. It wasn’t the same as having his hands on me, his body against mine, but it was fun nonetheless. I can’t wait to really be with him, to touch him, to kiss him, to smell him. To not miss him. My girls have been helping me keep my mind off things. Like we’re going out tomorrow night—we’re going out dancing. I’m actually excited.