Hear Me Now

by Brittany Bly

  I nod curtly, “Well, I hope you enjoy.” I sidestep around him and begin wading through the crowd attempting to find Marissa. Tingles run along my spine as he follows me, but I refuse to glance back and acknowledge him. Maneuvering through the people becomes difficult as the crowd thickens.

  Goosebumps ignite along my arm as he takes my hand. Yanking it out of his grasp, I spin and bare my teeth, “Don’t touch me. You lost that right five years ago.” I’d forgotten the feeling his touch awakens in me. No one since had elicited such a response from my body.

  His face allows no reaction.

  I turn on heel and begin pushing my way through the crowd again. Still close behind, he stalks me through the multitude of people. I’ve seen no sign of Marissa, how fucking hard is it to find someone with rose gold hair. My agitation grows with every corner I turn without noticing her. I hurry around another corner only to be greeted by a wall of art. “Shit,” I mumble. Pivoting I find him right behind me.

  “Can we talk?” Blaine asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

  I chuckle mimicking his posture, “I don’t believe I’ve anything more to say that hasn’t already been said.”

  “Yeah, you said all you needed to but didn’t hear a word I said,” he replies with frustration in his voice.

  “I saw all I needed too” I snap pushing past him heading back into the crowd.

  After about fifteen more minutes of searching, I spot the top of a rose gold head in the farthest corner. I shove my way through, grabbing hold of her hand and spinning her around to face me “I’m ready to go,” I say in a clipped tone.

  “Go? We haven’t been here long,” Marissa says, assessing my stiff posture. Her eyes roam over my face finding my unspoken emotions “What happened?” she asks worriedly.

  “Can we just go… please?” I whisper pleading with her.

  “Yeah… of course,” she links her elbow with mine and leads me toward the exit.

  The door’s in sight, and we’re almost home free from this nightmare that just won’t end. A solid wall of muscle steps in front of us blocking our path. Sighing, I look up at the wall that is Cohen.

  “Well if it isn’t the photographer lady,” Cohen says excitedly, his smile almost infectious… almost.

  Dammit. “Hi Cohen, sorry but we’re leaving” I attempt to go around him, but with his size and the crowd, it’s impossible.

  “What, why? Stay and have a drink with us” he says gesturing toward Blaine, who’s pretending to view one of the splatter arts in the center of the crowd. When I don’t answer right away, he continues, “Ah come on now just one drink. We saw a bar right next door when we came in. We can run over, have a drink, and you can be on your merry way,” he says, smiling, “Don’t make me beg because I will.”

  Marissa remains silent, putting the decision entirely on me. I turn trying to get some help, but she fakes innocence looking around the room. I look back at Cohen, he must take my silence as a no. Before I know it, he drops to one knee his white shirt stretched tight over his massive chest with the movement and began to beg “Oh please! Please…”

  People are already turning to stare as his voice raises. I cut him off immediately, grabbing him by the arm and try to pull him up before he can draw any more attention to us. “Get up, you big ass,” I hiss through my teeth “One drink. That’s it.”

  Cohen’s smile grows “If you insist” glancing over his shoulder, he shouts, “Hey Shaw, we’re going next door!” He bows at the waist, saying, “Ladies, lead the way.”

  A blush creeps up my cheeks as I run for the door and gladly into traffic if the night continues this way.

  Chapter Seven

  The bar seems to have caught some of the overflow from the gallery. With some work, we secure a table close to the exit. The bar is older by the looks of it and one not used to having so many occupants at once. By the looks of the bartender, I would say this is the most people it’s seen in years. The atmosphere is that of an old jazz club accompanied by dim lighting and an empty stage. At one time, this place probably saw all the action of Seattle.

  Cohen grabs the bartender’s attention ordering each of us a beer.

  Marissa starts the conversation off trying to ease the tension, “How are your accommodations so far? Are you liking Seattle?”

  “So far, it’s been awesome the rooms are spacious, and room service has been awesome. Seattle is badass. There are a lot of things to keep your time occupied that’s for sure” Cohen answers drumming his hands on the table.

  Grinning, she replies, “You haven’t seen half of what this city has to offer yet.”

  The beer arrives, and I begin to chug mine immediately. He did say one beer. I was about halfway done when Cohen notices, “Woah, slow down, girl. There’s no rush.”

  “Maybe she just likes beer Cohen,” Blaine says glancing over at me as he takes a long sip of his. He knows damn well that I prefer liquor. His intense stare penetrates me.

  “No, that’s not it,” Cohen says smirking, “Is there somewhere else you need to be, Miss Lila? Got a hot date?” Cohen asks smirking.

  Blaine stops moving – tension radiates from him as he grips his glass. His eyes harden, his stare emotionless as he waits for my answer.

  God, how did I get myself into this situation? I cock my head to the side, “You know, come to think of it, I do.” Quickly downing the remainder of my drink, I stand, “Well, I do appreciate the drink, but I do have that date to get to.”

  Marissa grabs my wrist, pulling me back down beside her. She glares at me, saying, “I drove,” pointing at her full drink. Cohen rewards her with a brilliant smile before finishing off his bottle and signaling the bartender for another one. Leaning in Marissa whispers, “Will you try and play nice?” glancing over at Blaine she grins “This could be the universe working in your favor.”

  Marissa believes everything happens for a reason. She probably thinks the stars and planets aligned to bring us back together. I lean back in my seat, getting comfortable, crossing my arms over my chest. When she puts her mind on the path of an idea, it’s impossible to change that.

  “So, Blaine, how are you liking Seattle?” Marissa asks, leaning forward onto the table, resting her chin on her fists.

  Gaining his attention, he looks in her direction, “I’m starting to like it more and more.” His gaze travels to me, and I have to avert my eyes, suddenly finding the wall art very interesting.

  “It’s an exciting city, that’s for sure,” Marissa grins before looking at Cohen “What have you done since being here?”

  “Nothing much. We were herded into a photoshoot as soon as we landed, but since then we’ve tried a couple different restaurants and bars,” Cohen says, winking at me.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Your schedules are going to be a little crazy at the beginning,” Marissa tries explaining. She works for the record label and is in charge of their schedules and essentially how this tour goes for them.

  “Oh, no problem. We can be flexible, right, Shaw?” When no response comes, we each look in Blaine’s direction. His attention’s focused in my direction, “Dude, you’re being really quiet. I kind of feel like I’m missing something…” Cohen says glancing between the two of us.

  “Oh, you have no idea” Marissa mumbles before taking a long drink of her beer.

  Looking at both of us again, Cohen furrows his brows, “Do you guys know each other?”

  Neither of us answer. Locked in each other’s gaze in an unspoken standoff. Refusing to open that box and bring all the mess out into the light. It’s hard to imagine how we got to this point. Once I walked away, I never thought I would be sitting here with an indifferent Blaine all these years later.

  I look away from the eyes that once looked deep into my soul and saw things that even I wasn’t aware of. At that time in my life, I never would have thought our lives would have changed and become what they are now.

  Cohen isn’t tak
ing our silence as an answer. He eyes us, quietly waiting for one of us to begin explaining. Blaine’s the one who finally breaks the silence, “We dated in college.” Bringing my gaze from the table, I look to Cohen in hopes his need is satisfied.

  “Wait. A. Minute,” Cohen rocks back in his seat before coming right back and leaning toward us over the table “Scully? This is Scully?”

  My eyes widen at my old nickname, “You told him about me?” I can’t stop the blush that creeps up my neck and soon heats my cheeks.

  We both loved The X-files and started watching it together. Soon we became so immersed in it that we refused to watch it without the other. He tried once and learned to dodge shoes quickly before learning; it was just best to wait for me. As our love for the show grew, so came the nickname, and it stuck.

  “You have a serious problem,” Marissa mumbles shaking her head.

  “Oh, shut up,” I say knowing good and damn well she’s referring to Fox.

  “Hey back to the fact that you guys dated!” Cohen draws us back into this never-ending conversation. Shoving Blaine playfully he says, “You’ve been sitting on this since yesterday!”

  Blaine says nothing, the look of indifference seems to be permanently etched on his face.

  “It was a long time ago, and we’ve both moved on” I reply gaining the attention of everyone at the table.

  “Moved on? That’s what you think?” Blaine comes to life scowling in my direction.

  “It’s been five years,” I whisper.

  “Five long years.”

  The sound of Blaine’s voice causes me to look up. For the first time since yesterday, he’s not shielding his emotions. His eyes reveal the depths of anguish and anger that have been locked away for so long. Unable to take it any longer I stand “Thank you, Cohen, for the beer,” and with that, I leave the table. Marissa doesn’t fight me this time but says her goodbyes as well before following me out into the night.

  Chapter Eight

  A still photo of Blaine fills the screen of my laptop. My eyes refuse to blink. His breathtaking smile consumes his face causing his eyes to crinkle. How just a picture of him can still cause my heart to flutter like this is alarming. Cohen had made a vulgar comment at this moment, causing him to laugh, creating this perfect shot. In the privacy of my own home, I can stare as much as I want to. But that’s all it can be, merely staring at a beautiful face.

  I’m torturing myself… I did the damn shoot, I should’ve made Marissa find someone else to edit them. But I wouldn’t allow that. Despite the subject matter, these are a piece of me as is each of my photographs. Someone else editing them would be like giving someone a part of my soul and saying just shape it how you want then give it back. Those pieces wouldn’t be my own anymore but someone else’s.

  So here I sit, my legs crossed on the couch with my laptop in the center, unable to flip to the next picture. Even though Blaine’s in the majority of them… there’s something about this one that has me frozen. It’s the candidness of it, not posed in any way but a moment of pure joy that Cohen created, and I captured.

  Opening a page in Chrome, my interest is piqued as I wonder how he met these guys. We didn’t know them in college, so he met them after us for sure. Wikipedia is always a good choice, and for the most part, my go to when I need information. If I had just researched them before the shoot, I would have ran the other way. He is literally everywhere when you type in Ashes. Apparently, he’s the new it guy of rock. I know I was in a rush the other day but damn, come on, Lila this is just pitiful. They met and formed Ashes four years ago. After performing at several bars in Portland for two years, they were discovered by their label. Their tour is being promoted on every website possible. From the looks of it, they’re having some success. There are even fansites dedicated to the guys. Most of the pages are just shrines to Blaine.

  I shake my head, unable to read any more of the fanatic comments from women. They aren’t even commenting on their music, but the guys’ looks. It’s disgusting.

  A knock on my front door pulls me from my computer. I don’t even make it to the door before my mother’s voice floats through the wood “Honey! Are you home?”

  As the door swings open, I ask, “Mom, when did you get back into town?” There, standing on my front porch, the rays of sun frame her – she looks fantastic. Her skin has a golden tone to it, her blonde hair looks lighter, even her eyes seem brighter. Eyes that are identical to my own, except mine, are lacking that brightness. The Florida sun must have a little magic in each of its rays, unlike here, where it scarcely makes an appearance. She’s practically glowing. Her smile is contagious, smiling back, I ask, “How was your trip?”

  She steps inside hugging me tightly, “The best! So different than this dreary town, where it seems to rain every other day. I’m trying to convince Luke that we should move, but so far, no luck.”

  Pulling away, I shake my head, “Smart man. You would be miserable in that heat after a couple weeks.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s what he says,” she rolls her eyes as she places her purse on the coffee table.

  Little footsteps rush into the room, Fox leaps onto the arm of the couch meowing and pawing in my mother’s direction. He quickly gets the affection he wants. Picking him up, she hugs him close, “Oh goodness! How is my sweet grand kitty doing?” she asks, stroking his head.

  “How is it that he gets a better hug than me? And I’m your own child,” I say teasingly as she dances around the room with him.

  My attention suddenly locks in on my laptop, sitting open on the coffee table. The picture of Blaine completely visible just inches from her. Luckily, she doesn’t give any thought to it. But with her so close it won’t be long before she does. I hurriedly make my way to it, shutting it just as Mom takes a seat on the couch cradling Fox in her lap. “So, tell me about your trip… how was work?” I ask taking a seat on the arm of the couch opposite her.

  “It was spectacular! After work each day, we went out to the beach, relaxed, and sipped on cocktails” Mom gushes. “It wasn’t like any other work venue I’ve been to before.”

  “That’s awesome, Mom. I’m glad you had a good time,” I say, my smile faltering.

  Like most mothers, mine notices immediately. She’s quite observant seeing every little detail around her. Especially when it comes to me.

  “What’s wrong, honey?” Mom asks, her brow creasing in the middle with worry as her hand stills in mid-stroke on Fox’s back.

  “Nothing,” I look at her, she’s not convinced, so I say, “Really, Mom, everything’s fine.”

  “Don’t lie to me, girl. You better start spilling, or we’ll be here for a while.” She stares at me, adding, “I ain’t going anywhere until you tell me.”

  I have no other choice. She isn’t going to let up, especially when she knows something is bothering me. Taking a deep breath, I look down at my hands, mumbling, “I saw Blaine.”

  “Aw, how is he?” she asks, the worrisome look vanishing from her face and her hand resuming, much to Fox’s delight. His purrs fill the room.

  “Mom!” I say irritably glaring at her.

  “Don’t, Mom, me. I can ask how someone’s doing,” she retorts “I always liked him.”

  “You know our history,” I snap, my irritation rising as I see her eyes lighting up the more we talk about him.

  “And I told you my stance on it five years ago. Something didn’t add up. I think there was some truth in what he was telling you. But you ran. Simple as that” she states matter of factly, maintaining eye contact with me as she does.

  “He cheated,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Honey, you threw away what I think to be the love of your life without so much as a true explanation. It’s okay, you were young, but you need to admit it to yourself. If you don’t, you’ll forever hold onto it, and it’ll create a black mass on your heart.” She looks away, and I see tears brimming in her eyes. She takes a moment
to gather herself turning back she continues, “Honey, I blamed myself for your father’s death for so long. It slowly destroyed me. I don’t want that for you. Please don’t hold onto that anger. Try and forgive him. This could be your chance – you two were brought back together for a reason.” One of her tears escapes, sliding down her cheek. For a minute, she doesn’t wipe it away, letting it exist for just a moment. Slowly she reaches up, wiping it out of existence.

  I’m shocked, and my heart aches for her. I never knew she blamed herself for Dad’s death.

  My father died in a car accident when I was ten years old. They had been arguing that day, I’m not entirely sure what caused the fight. But Dad went to the store, and on the way back, a drunk driver crossed into his lane, hitting him head-on. The authorities told us he died instantly. She was sad and depressed after his accident. Her emotions were uncontrollable at times. But of course she was, she had just lost her husband and the only man she had ever loved. The hardest part was their last words being in anger. I couldn’t imagine reliving those moments and knowing that was the last words I exchanged with someone I loved.

  My thoughts are interrupted as she reaches across the couch, taking my hand in hers and squeezes, “You haven’t really dated since you guys broke up. All this isn’t a coincidence.”

  Had I been scared in those moments standing in that hallway?

  Yes, I could admit that.

  Fear had been the driving force of my decision. My heart fractured that day, and the only way I could deal with that pain was to run. Each time he called or tried to see me, it was as if my lungs forgot how to function and I couldn’t breathe. So, I buried it. Deep. I’d been doing a perfect job of keeping it away from the surface until the other day. When I saw him, it was as if I was twenty- two again, reliving that day all over. The pain was just as fresh. Maybe Mom was right. Perhaps, I did need to forgive him. To move on for good and not have to pretend for the rest of my life would be nice. “I think you’re right” I whisper more to myself, but she heard. Her supermom qualities haven’t dimmed, not at all. “I don’t know how to get in touch with him though.”