Roman and Jewel

by Dana L. Davis

  Everyone? Mom and I exchange worried looks as we walk together down the hall. We move past Alan’s office, where I met with him the other day. Around the corner, Zeppelin pushes through the double doors of a conference room, trailed by a man dressed in a gray suit, with dark waves of shoulder length hair and dark eyes.

  “Zeppelin?” My mood soars. Like the sun unexpectedly showed up on this gray day. But...something’s not right. His face is flushed, his mess of hair is truly that—a mess. Pointing in every possible direction. He runs a hand through it, but that does nothing to tame the beast of unruly waves. He’s dressed in sweatpants, dirty sneakers, and a wrinkled T-shirt. It’s the first time I’ve seen him looking less than couture. Still, even though he looks like he fell out of bed and rolled all the way here, he’s a beautiful sight. At least to me. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Jerzie.” His eyes are so red, I’d swear he’s been crying. “Know that I’m sorry, okay? Forgive me.”

  “Zeppelin,” the man says sternly. “Let’s go. Now.”

  He steps forward and whispers in my ear, “Trust me, Jerzie. Please.”

  And suddenly the sun is gone. Covered by dark stormy clouds once again. Thunder seems to roar. Lightning seems to flash. I want to call after him. I want to run into his arms and tell him I forgive him already, even though I don’t know what he could possibly be apologizing for.

  Instead, I follow Mom as she pushes through the conference room doors. Inside are Robbie, Alan, and a man I’ve never seen before, sitting at a large conference table. Cinny is here, too. Why is Cinny here? She’s accompanied by a woman who I’m guessing is her lawyer. Should we have brought a lawyer? Cinny looks quite fragile in this moment, not standard Cinny for sure. Her shoulders are slumped, and when she looks up as Mom and I enter, I see her cheeks are streaked with tears.

  “Please, have a seat, Jerzie. Mrs. Jhames,” Alan instructs.

  We sit, sliding into individual high-back swivel chairs that surround the large conference table.

  The man who I don’t know passes along some sort of contract and a pen to Mom and me.

  “Read and sign this NDA,” he instructs. “Have Jerzie sign, too. Right underneath your signature.”

  Mom signs. I do as well.

  “So.” Robbie twists a pen in his hands. “We’ve gotten Zeppelin’s side of the story. Jerzie, we’d like to get yours as well.”

  “Can you all tell us what’s going on?” Mom asks.

  “Garret Webb here.” The man sitting beside Robbie speaks. “I’m one of the producers for Roman and Jewel.” He looks directly at me. “A private investigator was hired to look into the video uploads. We found out the YouTube account responsible was created in Bay Ridge, at a residence where Zeppelin resides.”

  Black spots flash in my vision. No. It couldn’t have been him. It wasn’t.

  Garret continues, “We’ve also been able to confirm that the Vimeo hack happened at the same residence.”

  “We were under the assumption,” Robbie says to Mom, “that since Jerzie joined the cast just days ago, she and Zeppelin were not acquainted. However, the private investigator confirmed that Jerzie was at his residence last night. And at his family’s restaurant. In addition, they were together at Washington Square Park.” Robbie speaks to me now. “We’d like to know how long you two have known one another. And if, in fact, you had anything to do with the video uploads.”

  Holy hell! My gaze darts to Cinny. She’s not making eye contact with me, just staring down at the table, looking like she’d very much like to wake up from this nightmare.

  I look at Mom, whose expression is a mixture of anger and confusion.

  “Jerzie?” she says in disbelief. “What on earth?”

  “Mommy, I swear I just met him.” I turn to Robbie. “I met Zeppelin on my first day of work. I was in the stairwell and he accidentally hit me in the head with the door. Look.” I point to the bruise that’s still visible on my forehead. “I have the bruise to prove it.” I’m trying so hard to hold back my tears. Zeppelin uploaded the videos? “In a very random coincidence, yesterday, my aunt had to work in Bay Ridge, and I went along with her. I ended up at a restaurant Zeppelin’s family owns. On accident. Because my aunt had to work late, he invited me to hang out with him and his friends. We never even discussed the videos. I had no clue he was the one who uploaded them. Are you sure it was him?”

  “He confessed, Jerzie,” Alan replies sadly.

  Why? Why would he do something like this?

  “But did he say I had something to do with it?”

  “He said you did not,” Robbie replies.

  Well, thank God for that. “I didn’t. I swear on my life I did not know.” I look at Cinny now. “Believe me, Cinny. I had no idea.”

  “I believe her.” Cinny finally looks up.

  I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “I’m sorry this happened, Jerzie,” Alan says. “And I’m sorry Zeppelin dragged you into something so potentially destructive by uploading the video that was recorded with you.”

  “We’re honestly at a loss for words,” Robbie adds. “Zeppelin...” He shakes his head glumly. “He’s like family to us.”

  “What happens now?” My eyes must look panicked as I gaze from Robbie to Alan.

  “Zeppelin is no longer with the show.” Alan says it so softly that I think for a moment maybe I misheard him.

  “I’m sorry, what?” I ask.

  “It’s a major breach of confidentiality,” Robbie explains despondently. “We had no choice. One of his understudies will take over the role for now. We may find a suitable replacement. We’re looking.”

  No! God, no! It’s as if the world has stopped spinning and come to a screeching halt, and I’m being hurled off the planet at a thousand miles per hour. Tsunamis are destroying the coastlines. Trees are being uprooted. The world is ending. Today is the last of all days.

  I don’t even realize I’m crying until Mom whispers, “Jerzie. Please, honey. Pull yourself together.”

  She removes a wad of tissues from her purse and thrusts them into my hands. “Is he going to jail?” I say out loud to no one in particular.

  “He should,” Cinny states harshly, wiping away her own tears.

  “He’s not going to jail.” Alan leans back in his chair. “We’re not pressing charges or anything like that. I think we’re happy to sweep this under the rug.”

  “Jerzie,” Robbie says, “I think we’re done with our questions. Sorry to have disturbed your morning. Thank you for being so accommodating.” He smiles, and I can sense he wishes he could reach over the table and give me a big hug.

  “And again. We apologize that you were dragged into this in the first place,” Alan adds. “Hopefully things will settle down now, and we can all get back to work.”

  I stand. Or rather, Mom pulls me up, because I’m pretty sure I don’t quite have control over all of my muscles just yet. Not to mention all the blood must be rushing to my brain, because my head is pounding as if I should be going to the ER instead of back to Aunt Karla’s. Mom must sense that I’m in danger of a head gone full-on firework, because she places a hand on my back, leans toward me, and whispers, “Breathe, Jerzie.”

  I do as instructed, taking a long, deep breath, then exhaling. It slows my heart rate a bit and makes my hands stop shaking. I follow Mom out of the conference room. Once we’ve traveled down the hallway, she turns to me.

  “You are never to see that boy again. Do you understand me?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t ‘what’ me, Jerzie. He could’ve gotten you fired. Secretly recording that girl all this time and then uploading videos onto YouTube? That poor girl. Seeing her sitting there crying like that? Heartbreaking. What was he trying to do? Ruin her career? He doesn’t have the right to do that. And please believe he could and would easily do the
same thing to you.”

  “Mom.” My hands are shaking, my voice cracking. “I’ll talk to him and he can explain. He owes me an explanation. He’s my friend.”

  “You barely know him. He’s not your friend.”

  “But he is! Let me talk to him. I—”

  “Jerzie Jhames, so help me God!” Mom places a hand on her hip. “If I learn you’ve spoken so much as a word to that kid, I will personally pull you out of this musical and take you back home for the summer. Are we clear? You will have nothing to do with him. Give me your phone.”

  Tears are streaming down my face. “Mom. You can’t take my phone. I need it.”

  “I sure as hell can. You’ll be with Judas this summer. He has a phone. Borrow his if there’s an emergency. Until I feel I can trust you again, you won’t be getting it back anytime soon. What were you doing at his house?”

  “It was nothing. Aunt Karla said we could hang out. So we stopped at his apartment to drop off his motorcycle.”

  “His motorcycle?” She draws back, nostrils flaring. “And Washington Square Park? The message I got from Karla said you were walking across the Brooklyn Bridge.”

  “We were. It was a last-second change of plans is all. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Not a big deal? Did you text Karla and ask her if it was okay?”

  I shake my head.

  “Unbelievable. Give me your phone. Now.”

  I don’t know Zeppelin’s number by heart. I don’t have his email. I know where he lives but have no clue how to even get there. This can’t be happening. Never see Zeppelin again? Never speak to him?

  “I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  We both turn to see Cinny, standing alone in the hallway. I wipe my eyes.

  “Cinny, I’m sorry,” I offer. “About all of this.”

  “Jerzie, stop. So not your fault.” She steps forward and extends her hand to Mom. “I’m Cinny. Nice meeting you.”

  Mom beams. “Oh, Cinny. It’s a pleasure to meet you. We’re all big fans. Honored. Truly.”

  Cinny turns to me. “I’m glad we found out the truth about Zeppelin. Aren’t you?”

  I’m not sure glad is a word that should be attached to how I’m feeling right now. Besides, have we found out the truth about Zeppelin?

  “Why do you think he did it?” Mom asks.

  “Revenge,” Cinny tosses out casually. “We were on a break. Zepp and I had been dating since the show started. Secretly. Nobody knew. When I tried to slow things down, he got upset. He’s intense like that. I think he was trying to use Jerzie as a way to get back at me.”

  I’m stunned. Speechless. Last night? Our time at his family’s restaurant? At the park? By the water fountain? I refuse to believe that none of it was real.

  Cinny leans forward and hugs me tightly. It makes me feel like itchy little bugs are crawling all over my skin. I resist the urge to push her away. Hard. “I hope we can get to be friends, Jerzie. Real friends. I’d like that.” She turns to Mom. “I’d better get back to my lawyer. Calm her down. She’s begging me to press charges, but I agree with Alan. We should all move on. As much as we can anyway.” She smiles weakly. “I’ll see you guys soon.”

  She moves down the hallway and pushes back through the conference room doors.

  Mom extends her hand. “Phone, Jerzie.”

  “Mom, she’s a confirmed liar,” I whisper.

  “And so is the boy. Phone. Now.”

  I reach into my backpack and retrieve my cell, checking the screen to see if he’s sent a message. None are there. She snatches it out of my hands.

  “Don’t invade my privacy,” I say sullenly.

  “I wouldn’t do that, Jerzie, and you know it.” She presses the side button to power down the phone and wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Now let’s get you back to Brooklyn.”

  I heave the heaviest of sighs and trudge after Mom. Zeppelin did say he has a way of fucking things up. He practically warned me. But he also asked me to trust him.

  Trust me, Jerzie. Please.

  But can I? Should I?

  I already miss yesterday, when I was a girl in love. Today I discover I could simply be a pawn in a very clever game Zeppelin’s been playing. Knight takes rook.

  Zeppelin takes all.

  “And This Is Wisely Done”

  There’s sleep. And then there’s the kind of comatose, depths of despair, Sleeping Beauty type, Maleficent cursed slumber, and that’s what I’ve been in and out of for the past week. In fact, where the hell is Maleficent when you need her? I would happily sleep for a hundred years if I could.

  Rehearsals have been painful. Literally. Watching Zeppelin’s understudy, Tag, take over the role of Roman makes my chest feel like it’s caving in. It makes my stomach twist into knots and my head pulse like a beating heart. Will this eternal migraine never end? And if Zeppelin is the Roman of Robbie’s dreams, I imagine that Tag is the Roman of his most boring days on Earth.

  “Tag.” Alan waves at the pianist and the drummer. The room turns quiet. “There has to be more of a dramatic shift. And remember, you’re giving the cue for the transition. Pause. Take your time. Notice your parent on the television. Give yourself adequate time to take it in. Everyone moves after you do.”

  “They do? Oh, sorry.” Tag uses the back of his sleeve to wipe away the sweat dripping down his forehead.

  I shift, bored. Sitting on this metal chair. Watching Robbie’s show die a slow death. It feels like I’m serving a sentence. I mean, Tag does bring a certain boyish charm to Roman. But Zeppelin’s interpretation was darker, pained, and if I’m being honest...better. Like, way, way better.

  The stage manager announces a ten-minute break and I remind myself that soon I’ll be home. Under the warm covers. Sleep. The thought makes me smile weakly. The days are too long anyway. Come, Maleficent. Come soon.

  * * *

  “Hey, hon.” Aunt Karla’s standing at the stove stirring something in a large pot as Judas and I step through the front door. “I’m making chili. You guys hungry?”

  “Maybe later,” I mumble. I toss my bag onto the floor and move as quickly as I can to the master suite, shutting the door behind me and throwing myself onto the bed. I can hear Judas and Aunt Karla laughing and chatting as I crawl under the covers and rest my head on the pillow. It doesn’t take long for sleep to take over.

  * * *

  My eyes have fluttered open. The digital clock on the nightstand says it’s 11:00 p.m. I yawn. I can hear the TV blaring downstairs. Two dudes are arguing about market shares. I’m sure Judas fell asleep watching Wall Street Warriors or something equally boring.

  As I swing my legs out of bed, a strange sound outside on the balcony makes me imagine a giant black raven is perched on the windowsill, come to torment me. I hear it again. It kinda sounds like a tree branch is being blown about by the wind. I wonder if Aunt Karla accidently left the Alexa speaker outside. When it’s raining, she brings it inside, and it was raining pretty hard all day. I move slowly to the window and pull back the curtains to check.

  Eeep! I yank them shut, heart pounding in my ears as loud as a hammer pounding against a steel nail head.

  “Jerzie.” Zeppelin’s deep, muffled voice calls to me softly. “Please. Can we talk?”

  “Are you tryin’ to give me a heart attack?” I ask as softly as I can. If Aunt Karla knew Zeppelin was standing on her balcony, the shit would really hit the fan.

  “You won’t answer my calls. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  I run to a mirror. I look a whole mess. I pull the bedroom door open, race down the hall and into the bathroom. I splash water on my face, brush my teeth at lightning speed and smooth out my hair, then tiptoe back into my room, type in the code to turn off the window alarm and pull back the curtains. I slide open the window as quietly as I can. Zeppelin is now sitting on o
ne of the chairs, head in his hands.

  I’m breathing so hard. Holding back my overwhelming desire to rush into his arms and stay there forever. I step onto the balcony and keep my distance instead. The concrete feels cool on my bare feet even though the night is warm and humid from the rain. “How did you know this was my room?”

  “You mentioned a balcony. I took a gamble.”

  “Okay. So, what do you want?”

  “You won’t reply to my texts or calls, Jerzie.” He looks over at me. “Why?”

  “My mom took my phone. It’s currently quarantined in the bottom of her purse in New Brunswick.”

  “Oh.” He runs both hands through his hair. “Well, I’ve texted you about a hundred times. And I’ve been calling you nonstop.”

  “I’m not allowed to see you anymore.”

  “What?” Zeppelin shakes his head. “Because of a video?”

  “Not just a video, Zeppelin. I think what you did is like...illegal. Just leave, okay? I could get into a lot of trouble with you being here. My mom’s threatening to pull me out of the show if I even speak a word to you. Clearly I’m already in violation.”

  “Can I talk to her? Can I explain my side of the story?”

  An explanation would be nice. “Maybe explain it to me first.” I swallow nervously, not sure if I’m ready to know the answer to the question on the tip of my tongue. I ask it anyway. “Were you using me to get back at Cinny?”

  “Is that what she told you?”

  I nod.

  “And do you believe her, Jerzie?”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  He groans. “Can I come in?”

  Can he? I look back at the window. Aunt Karla could hear us. Or worse, Judas. He’s as snitchy as his namesake. But then again, they could just as easily hear us or even see us out here. Maybe inside is better. “We have to be quiet, Zeppelin.”

  He stands and follows me as I crawl back in through the window. Once again, I’m reminded of the heat that emanates off him as the space between us swiftly warms. I move to the bedroom door, lock it, and turn to face him. He’s dressed in a pair of old black boots, jeans, and a faded sweatshirt, his hair pointing in all directions. A beautiful mess is what I’d call him. He sits on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees as he stares up at me.