Space For Breathing: A Rock Star Romance

by I. K. Velasco

  Jacob

  Something was wrong. Not exactly wrong…just different. I felt it first before I realized what it was. A presence beside me, emanating glowing warmth that came with a strange security that made me feel completely content.

  I opened my eyes. She was there. Her face was turned to me, perfectly soft and peaceful, her breathing long and deep. So beautiful. My heart ached just to look at her.

  Her eyes fluttered open. They narrowed for a split second, like she was confused, but eventually they softened and she smiled. "Hi," she whispered, sleepily.

  "Hi."

  She reached her arms out to me and snuggled into my shoulder.

  "You stayed," I whispered, kissing her hair. She smelled like sunshine and jasmine.

  She looked up at me, placing her chin on my chest. Her eyes sparkled. "You don't mind my taking up half of your bed?"

  "Nah," I said. "You're tiny. You don't take up too much room."

  She laughed. I kissed her sweet mouth.

  "Do you know that you're beautiful when you sleep?"

  She smirked. "You're just saying that because you want something."

  I laughed, then leaned down to kiss her again. I suckled on her lower lip. "And is that bad?"

  She wrapped her arms around my neck and tugged my body on top of hers. "I didn't say that."

  * * *

  Pangasinan, Philippines—Owen Estate, 11:23 am

  Jacob

  I had it back. It had been pouring out of me non-stop for days now. I wrote furiously, on dozens of little pieces of paper, lyrics, notes, chords, and poetry—everything that came out of me. Maeva found me a little tape recorder, just to make sure that I didn't lose anything.

  I owed her so much; I couldn't even begin to fathom how I was going to show my appreciation. She was my inspiration, the muse that had lifted me from the depths of whatever rut I had been lying in. She was so beautiful, too good to be real. Her beauty and whatever she was making me feel deserved to be captured in song.

  But it wasn't the same. Riley. I wasn't used to writing by myself. He was always in the next hotel room or bedroom or across the tour bus, accessible enough to each other so that we could bounce ideas off each other, feed of each other, get excited together. I leaned back on the pillows propped up on my bed and put down my guitar. I thought about him, wondered what he was up to.

  I left my bedroom and headed for Owen's study, figuring that that was the quietest place to make a phone call. I sat at Owen's desk and stared at the phone for a few minutes. I felt ridiculous experiencing an internal dilemma, just because I wanted to call home. I chided myself and picked up the receiver.

  The four rings it took for someone to pick up felt like an eternity.

  "Hello?" Chris, our manager said, panting. It sounded like he had run for the phone.

  "Um, hi Chris."

  "Jacob? Is that really you?" he asked.

  "Yeah, it's me."

  "Wow. We thought you'd disappeared off the face of the earth."

  I laughed. "Nah, just on the other side of the world."

  "Eh, close enough," he said. "Are you enjoying your trip?"

  "I am. I actually wrote a few songs."

  "Dude! That's great." I imagined the goofy grin, surely gracing Chris's face. "I can't wait to hear them."

  "Um…what are you doing at the house?"

  "I came by to drop off a contract for Riley to sign," he said, mirth lacing his tone.

  "Wait. You mean Worldwide? We got it?"

  I could almost see Chris's smile growing wider. "Slone is now the next band signed to a multi-album contract with Worldwide Records"

  "Really? That's amazing news."

  "Yeah. I didn't even have to negotiate. Just sent them a list of demands, and they said yes to whatever we wanted."

  Owen's influence, I thought. I'd have to remember to thank him.

  We were quiet for a minute. It was a strange silence, something that never used to happen between Chris and me.

  "Um, how is everyone?"

  I could hear his sigh of relief. My question had broken the strange, silent tension, giving him something to ramble about. "Good, I suppose. You just missed mom." Chris had grown up with us, so my mother treated him exactly like one of her boys. "She went out to save more orphaned children or something."

  I laughed. My heart clenched thinking about my mother. I suddenly felt incredibly lonely.

  Then I asked the inevitable. I had to ask about him. "And how's Riley?"

  We hadn't spoken for over a month, not since I fought with him. It was an unspoken agreement really—ignorance meant that we weren't risking whatever remained of our friendship. But I still missed him, loved him because no matter our disagreements, he’d always be my brother.

  "Oh, you know…his usual diva self."

  I laughed. "He misses you too, Jake. We all do."

  Maeva

  My maya bird had returned. He was playing with a small branch that had fallen on my balcony floor, trying desperately to capture it in his beak. I took the opportunity to finish the painting of him, hoping that he wouldn't succeed in his task before I managed to capture him on canvas.

  Sleepy and a bit sore in places, I could barely concentrate on the strokes of my brush. I indulged in an involuntary giggle, remembering why I was feeling that way. I hadn't slept much the last few days, regardless that Jacob and I had been spending extraordinary amounts of time in bed together. And the lack of sleep could not be blamed on the usual nightmares, either.

  My subject finally succeeded in claiming his prize. I wondered if my little maya bird was going to bring the branch to its nest, last minute preparations to make his birdy wife more comfortable for the coming of his little ones. I smiled at the thought.

  I put down my brush and stretched my arms over my head. It was almost time for lunch, so I decided to see what Jacob was up to. I looked in the first place where he was guaranteed to be found—his bedroom. He had holed himself up there for three days, only coming out to eat dinner or for the occasional walk to the village. But he was writing and playing, and I knew that made him happy.

  I was surprised to find his door wide open, his guitar on the bed and Jacob nowhere in sight. I wandered down the hall, thinking he must have gotten a snack in the kitchen, when I heard him talking quietly in Mr. Owen's study. He was sitting at the desk, his back to the door, the phone cradled in his ear. I entered quietly and sat down on Mr. Owen's chair.

  Jacob sensed my presence and turned his chair around, continuing his conversation.

  "Mmhmm, yup…I know."

  Suddenly, Jacob became very quiet; like the person on the other end had asked him a question he couldn't answer. He looked up at me, his eyes filled with such longing, I wondered what the question was.

  "I don't know, Chris. I can't tell you that right now, but soon." Pause. "Okay, I'm glad I called too. Tell everyone I said 'hello.' Bye."

  Jacob replaced the handset back onto the receiver.

  We stared at each other for a few moments.

  "That was my manager," Jacob said, his voice cutting through the fog between us.

  "That's nice." Tight-lipped and somber, he nodded. I suddenly realized what the question was. "You're going home soon, aren't you?"

  He didn't answer.

  Twelve

  Pangasinan, Philippines—Owen Estate 3:27 pm

  Jacob

  We didn't speak for a while. It was easy to avoid each other, even being in the same house. I felt as if I was in limbo, torn between two desires pulling me into opposite worlds.

  Before long, I was wandering the halls, wondering where she was. I wanted to hear her voice, watch the way she tilts her head when she listens so intently or when she's thinking of a thoughtful answer.

  Turning the corner, I heard Maeva shouting instructions to some workers. Two men were on a precarious set up of temporary scaffolding, carefully adjusting a very large painting. I stood in the shadows, just wanting to watch her.


  "It's crooked. You need to tilt it to the right," Maeva instructed. She was standing a few meters away from the set-up, far enough so she could clearly see the balance of the painting. "A little more…perfect," she said as the workers finally succeeded on their task. "Thank you so much for the help," she said, smiling.

  "You're welcome, Miss Maeva. Is there anything else you need us to do?" one of the men asked.

  Maeva rubbed her chin, thinking. "No, I don't think so. Just please take down this set up and you can report back to Tito for the yard work."

  Both men gave Maeva a small nod and headed off. She stood in the hallway for a moment, perfectly still. She was looking at the painting, but her expression was glassy, as if deep in thought. I was suddenly struck with the desire to hold her, kiss her, ask her what she was thinking about. I was about to make my presence known when Rosa arrived.

  "Oh, Maeva! There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you," she panted.

  "Hi Rosa. What's is it?" she asked.

  "The samples for the carpet in the living room just arrived. I knew you were anxious to see them, so I brought them right away," Rosa replied.

  "Oh, yes. Thank you, Rosa," she said, taking the small packet of carpet remnants. She examined them for a minute and a deep frown began to crease her delicate features. "No, no. These are all wrong! This isn't what it looked like in the catalogue. The color isn't going to match the drapes." She handed the samples back to Rosa. "Here, I'm going to get the catalog. I think I left it in the study."

  She began to walk briskly down the hall, her feet clicking on the marble floor. She didn't see me watching her, though I followed close behind. Before she could turn the corner to Owen's study, I reached out to clasp her wrist, pulling her gently to me. She gasped and for a second, I thought Maeva was going to scream.

  "Oh, god Jacob. You scared me," she panted. She reached up and brought her hand up to her chest.

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you."

  I loosened my grip on her wrist, letting my fingers drift down to entwine with hers. I touched one smooth cheek. Her eyes, once wide-eyed black pools, softened to charcoal.

  "What is it?" she asked, quietly.

  "I just…I wanted to kiss you."

  She smiled slowly. "Well, then kiss me."

  I tilted her chin up and pressed against her lips. She parted them slowly, her tongue darting out to meet mine. She pulled away, breathing heavily. She cupped my cheeks in her tiny hands, staring intently. Twinges of feeling crawled into my chest, filling me with warmth.

  "Can't you people do anything for yourselves?" Mr. Owen's booming voice echoed from his study and into the hallway.

  We both jumped at the sound, repelling like the opposing ends of a magnet. Maeva still clung to my shoulders, wide-eyed and panting. Her eyes darted to the door of the study. She looked worried. She released me and approached the door, her footsteps slow but full of purpose. I followed behind.

  She entered the study and calmly sat down in one of Owen's guest chairs. Owen had the cordless telephone pressed firmly to his ear and was pacing the room, gesturing animatedly. He took a long drag on a cigarette, the smoke billowing in gray clouds out of his mouth and nose as he talked. He looked at Maeva for a moment and then promptly extinguished his smoke into a marble ashtray on his desk.

  After a few moments of arguing with the person on the other end, Owen's voice finally lowered. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for blowing up that way, Felix. I know it's beyond your control." He touched the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. "No, no…Nothing excuses my behavior. Okay, I will try to catch the next flight to Los Angeles. I'll try to be there in less than 24 hours." Owen ran his fingers through his hair, another gesture that relayed his anxiousness. He hung up the phone, and then sat at his desk, his shoulders slumping.

  "Leaving already?" Maeva asked, quietly.

  "Yes, Maeva. I'm so sorry. There's a big fire that has to put out back at the office, and unfortunately, I'm the only one that can do that."

  "But you've hardly had time to relax." She said the words calmly, without the expected traces of pleading. She was merely stating a fact.

  "I know. I'll try to get this done as fast as I can. When I get back, I promise that I won't do any work for at least a month."

  She nodded and smiled at him reassuringly.

  "I have a million things to take care of before I can leave." Owen sat up suddenly. "Oh…I was supposed to send over a donation to the Rural Association…"

  "Yes, I already talked to Mrs. Carao," Maeva replied. "I'll courier the check to her in the morning."

  "And that speaking engagement is tomorrow night! How can I find a replacement that quickly?”

  "I'll talk to the Chairman. He owes you a favor, doesn't he? And you know how he loves those things," Maeva suggested.

  "Yes, you're right. John would be happy to take my place. Okay, I have to get packing." He stood up and began to head towards the door.

  "I'll call Rosa over to help you."

  Owen turned and opened his arms to Maeva, engulfing her in an affectionate, fatherly embrace. He kissed the top of her head. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he said.

  "I just worry about you, Tatay," she replied, hugging him around the waist. "I wish you wouldn't work so hard."

  I listened to the banter between Maeva and Owen, feeling as if I was intruding on something between the two of them—as if this kind of thing happened often, and the exchange wasn't foreign to either of them.

  Owen looked up at me then, smiling to acknowledge my presence. "You see, Jacob. Isn't Maeva the most wonderful girl on earth? She takes care of me so well."

  I smiled back and nodded in agreement. He kissed her on the forehead again then left the room, leaving Maeva and I alone again. She looked down at her blouse, smoothing out the wrinkles left there from earlier. A haze of uncertainty seemed to hover over us.

  "Um, I guess you have a few things to take care of?" I said, breaking the silence.

  "Yes. How about if I come find you later, and we can go for a walk?"

  "Sounds good." She pressed up against me again and leaned up to kiss me on the cheek.

  Pangasinan, Philippines—Owen Estate 11:16 pm

  Maeva

  The air was unusually cool that night, the sky perfectly clear and dotted with sparkling diamond stars. I ventured out onto the concrete pool deck, feeling the scratchy texture beneath my bare feet. The familiar scent of hibiscus blossoms and lilacs filled my senses as I breathed in the clean night air.

  I laid the towel on a patio chair, a slight breeze flitted across the atmosphere, sending goose bumps puckering across my skin. I immediately sat at the edge of the pool and slowly dipped my feet into the water, left warm from soaking in the day's sunshine.

  I felt him approaching, but I didn't take my gaze from the moonlight's reflection, dancing across the pool, a blue and white matrix, flickering in the dark. He hovered over me like the warmth of a blanket. Soft lips brushed against my bare shoulder, and he gently pressed his fingertips onto my back. He settled behind me, sliding his own legs into the water. I leaned back into his embrace, closing my eyes and reveling in his presence.

  "Did you get everything done that you needed done?" he asked quietly.

  "Yes, I did. Mr. Owen tends to get scatter-brained when he's under stress." I laughed lightly. "You'd think that the President of a multi-million I wI dollar recording company would be able pack his own bag for a trip."

  He chuckled. "He really counts on you, doesn't he?"

  "I feel like I have to take care of him."

  "Why is that?"

  I turned my head slightly. Jacob gazed down at me intently, awaiting my answer. "Mr. Owen is the only family I've known since I was seven. He has given me more opportunities and a greater sense of security than anyone. I feel like I have to repay him for that."

  He tightened his arms around my waist, squeezing gently. "He's lucky to have you."

  I
slid out of his grasp then, and slipped into the water below. I smiled at Jacob, inviting him in with me, but he shook his head. I dove, my legs flipping out into the cool night air. I lingered in the deep for as long as my lungs would allow, reveling in the silence and watching the moonlight dance off the bottom.

  When I resurfaced, I swam back to where Jacob still sat. He was looking out into the night, his face soft, his eyes turned inward. I placed my hands on his legs, feeling his muscles flex underneath.