My Own Personal Rockstar

by Kirsty McManus

  “I can handle myself. But I have Daisy to consider…and work. I need to make sure they don’t suffer in any way.”

  “I totally understand. Can we just let the situation unfold naturally?”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  I go over to where she’s sitting on a barstool and tilt her chin up to meet my face before kissing her softly. “Thank you for being awesome.”

  She swallows. “You’re awesome.”

  ***

  Tash

  Lincoln is heading to Canberra later in the day, and he has another press thing to do before he leaves, so Felix drives me back to the airport at lunchtime. When I said goodbye to Lincoln, I told him I’d leave it up to him to dictate the level of contact we had from this point on. He still has a big chunk of his tour left, so we’d be limited to chatting on the phone or online until sometime in October.

  I get home and immerse myself back into life with Daisy and my expanding empire. It’s quite a feat, juggling the school routine, my online business, and ensuring the supermarket roll-out continues to go smoothly, so the only time I really get to think about my love life is when I’m alone at night in bed.

  Lincoln sends a couple of quick text messages over the following week, mostly thanking me again for going to Sydney and saying he’s looking forward to when we can next catch up.

  And then from the second week on, I don’t hear anything at all. I stalk his Instagram for clues of what might be happening, but he only posts images from the tour and information regarding the band.

  I message Felix to see how he’s doing, but also to indirectly ask whether he’s heard from Lincoln, but I don’t get any insight there either.

  It’s quite disappointing, but a tiny part of me always sort of expected this to happen. I should be grateful I got to be part of Lincoln’s world for the time I was.

  And then two things happen in very quick succession.

  It’s six whole weeks since I was with Lincoln in Sydney when he texts me late one night.

  We just finished our last show on the tour, and I’d like to see you when I get home. Is that OK?

  I write back. Sure. Call me when you’re settled in.

  The next day, it occurs to me that my period is late.

  And a trip to the pharmacy confirms it.

  I’m pregnant.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Lincoln

  The tour passes in a blur. Each day, we’re either flying or driving to a new town, or rehearsing. We don’t usually play live Monday to Wednesday, but a lot of the downtime gets eaten up with travelling. Very occasionally, I get to explore the city we’re in, but mostly I try to catch up on sleep or talk to Carter about the latest developments with Rachel.

  In the week after Sydney, I text Tash a few times to see how she’s doing. I loved our night together, and I could quite possibly see us exploring something when I’m home. But then in the week after that, Carter sends through an email that shatters me, leaving no room for thoughts of new relationships.

  Rachel has now decided she wants the whole house and still refuses to let me see the girls. The only concession she’ll make is a Skype chat once a month, and an in-person visit once a year, for ONE weekend, in the UK, that will be supervised by an agreed-upon intermediary.

  I can’t believe she thinks that’s being generous. I should have listened to Carter at the beginning and gone for paternity fraud. The money doesn’t bother me, so I could almost deal with giving her the house if she allowed me real access to the girls, but to only give me two damn days out of a whole year is not acceptable. I immediately call Carter.

  “I thought we’d agreed on half the house and a meaningful amount of time with the girls.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess she thinks since you’re trying to avoid court, it gives her more leverage to get what she wants.”

  “I can’t do this, Carter.” I stare bleakly out the window. I’m in a small town in Western Australia, on our way to Perth. I wish I could enjoy the experience more, and what has so far been one of the highlights of my career. But Rachel seems intent on destroying everything good in my life.

  “We can still sue. Although, she did mention that your name isn’t on the girls’ birth certificates, so that might make things more difficult.”

  How did I not know I wasn’t on their birth certificates? I think back to when we had to send away the paperwork, and vaguely recall her telling me she’d taken care of it. I suppose I never thought to look at it once it arrived in the mail.

  I’m so angry, I can barely get the next words out.

  “Tell her she can have half the house and I want to bring the girls back to Australia four times a year for two weeks each trip. And I’m allowed to visit them in the UK whenever I’m there. I don’t want to go to court but tell her I won’t hesitate if she’s not reasonable.”

  “Okay. I’ll keep you posted. I’m sorry, Lincoln. I see this stuff all the time, but it still sucks to watch my clients go through it.”

  “Thanks, dude. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

  After hanging up, I check the time. The guys will be wanting to have dinner soon.

  I start composing a text to Tash, telling her I’m thinking about her, but that I need a bit of time to sort my life out before getting in touch again. I hope she understands. It’s not fair on her if I don’t have the emotional availability she deserves.

  Beau enters our hotel room. “Link, buddy. We’re starving. You coming to eat with us?”

  I shove my phone in my pocket and stand up. “Of course.”

  I follow him out to the elevator. The call with Carter plays over and over in my head.

  I hope he manages to convince Rachel’s lawyer that my suggestion is fair. The idea of a court case makes me feel sick, but I’ll do it if it means I have a better chance of seeing Isabella and Madison properly again.

  ***

  As the weeks wear on, I’m grateful the tour allows the guys and me a chance to bond more. We were always good friends, but being forced to spend an extended period of time together has really given us an insight into each other’s lives. I don’t want to bring them down by telling them what Rachel is putting me through, so when we talk about women, I occasionally mention Tash. I take their good-natured ribbing in the spirit it’s intended.

  “Dude, you should have taken some time off before jumping into another relationship. Enjoy the backstage benefits on tour.”

  “It’s not much of a relationship right now, but I hope that it will be at some point. Which means, I’m not going to jeopardise that.” I don’t tell them I probably wouldn’t indulge, no matter what the situation was. I’m just not a casual hookup kind of guy.

  But either way, throughout the tour, I’ve hung back after a few shows, and I know for a fact the guys aren’t indulging in mass orgies either. I think the most I’ve seen is Jesse make out with one girl in Hobart. I know the guys like the idea of the sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll lifestyle, but they’re not living it. And life on the road isn’t like the image portrayed in the movies anyway.

  It’s actually quite an exhausting and inconvenient process. While we are lucky enough to be paid for the gigs and have our accommodation and travel covered, Max hasn’t exactly been throwing money at us. We travel in a cramped van most of the time and fly economy when we have to cross large spaces quickly. I’ve learned to switch off from the world with my noise-cancelling headphones and my favourite true crime podcast on the longer journeys.

  The shows have been everything I could possibly hope for, though. The crowds have been amazing everywhere, and they’ve responded so well to our setlist, which we slightly changed over the tour to include a few more originals. The guys and I have talked about planning a full album once we get back to Brisbane. After that, we’ll talk to Max and see if he’s interested in helping us sign with a label.

  Our final show was tonight in western New South Wales. The guys are all in one of the other hotel rooms celebrating, but I chose to come back
to my room and chill out for a bit.

  I’ve barely heard from Carter, apart from a few generic emails saying he’s still working on a deal. I’ve managed to compartmentalise my feelings in order to stay sane. If I dwell too much on the fact that I might only get two days a year with my girls, I will lose it completely.

  I open Instagram and flick through my feed, stopping at Tash’s account. She’s posted a new bento box, one with a Nintendo Mario theme. I can’t believe how talented that woman is. I click the heart beside the image. And then I realise I’ll be home tomorrow, and I can finally see her again. That is, if she wants to see me. She never replied to my last message, which I have to admit is a little worrying, but I hope it just means she understood the situation.

  I open up my texts and am about to compose a new message when I see that I never finished typing the previous one. Holy crap. I know even if it had gone through, it wouldn’t have been an ideal situation, but it would have been better than nothing. Tash must think I completely abandoned her for the whole tour!

  I type quickly, telling her I’d like to see her when I get home. I want to apologise and explain everything now, but I think it would be best if I did it in person. It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour drive back to Brisbane tomorrow, so I’ll head straight to her place.

  I’ve realised I need her in my life, regardless of what happens with Rachel and the twins.

  Because I think we’re a really good match, and I want to make her feel as happy as she makes me.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Tash

  Shit. I don’t know how this happened. Lincoln and I were really careful, and admittedly, things got a little out of control in the shower that night, but we didn’t actually have sex until we were in the bedroom afterwards and he was wearing a condom.

  It must have broken somehow. It had been so long since I’d slept with anyone, I might not have realised anything was wrong. That whole night is a blur now. I’d had a few drinks, but I wasn’t completely drunk. I one hundred percent remember seeing the condom.

  Oh God. What am I going to do? I’m a single mother with an expanding business. And how will Lincoln react? He’s barely coping with his existing family drama. How’s he going to handle this news?

  I figure I’ll have a couple of days before I have to deal with him, since he’ll be coming home today, and I told him to only call me once he’s settled.

  I’ll need that time to process this in my own head. Except I’m not sure any amount of time will help me come to terms with this situation.

  I text Millicent and tell her I need her to come over. The kids are at school, and thankfully my bestie works from home.

  I can be there in an hour. Is that all right?

  I text back in the affirmative.

  I pace around the house, my heart pounding, and then I freak myself out, wondering if my stress is harming the baby. I take a few deep breaths until I finally feel my pulse slow.

  In what feels like no time at all, there’s a knock at the door. I look at my watch. It’s only been twenty minutes. I guess Millicent was able to get away sooner. I wonder if she’s psychic and somehow knew it was important to be here immediately.

  “You know me too…” I trail off as I open the door.

  Lincoln is standing there.

  I almost swallow my tongue. “Uh, hey!”

  “Were you expecting someone else?” he asks, eyes twinkling.

  “Oh, just Millicent. She said she was going to drop by. Wow! I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

  “I got straight in my car as soon as we arrived in Brisbane. I haven’t even been home yet. But I have been a terrible communicator…”

  “You have,” I agree. And then wonder if I really should be doing the guilt trip thing, considering the news I’m about to drop on the guy.

  “I want to apologise. I actually started writing you a message back when I was in WA, and I forgot to send it. Can I come in so we can talk?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He leans in and hugs me. I hug him back and wonder if he can already tell there’s something different about me. But of course he wouldn’t know. I wouldn’t even know except for that stupid little plastic stick with the blue line.

  He stands back for a moment and looks at me. Under any other circumstance I would shiver, because that expression is one of someone I know cares about me, despite the radio silence.

  I lead him into the living room.

  “Did you want anything to drink? Or eat?” I offer.

  “No, that’s fine. Actually, maybe some water if that’s okay?”

  “That’s definitely okay.” I pour us both glasses and take them over to the couch.

  “How was the tour?” I ask.

  “It was good. We sold out nearly every show. We’re now hoping Max will represent us permanently and help us score a recording deal.”

  “Oh! That sounds exciting. If you sold out all your shows, I’m sure he’ll be interested.”

  “Exactly.”

  I study his face. He doesn’t look as happy as he should. “But?” I prompt.

  “Oh, the music stuff is fine. More than fine. It’s just everything else. I owe you a huge explanation. I’m not usually the kind of guy who sleeps with someone and then never speaks to them again.”

  “I didn’t think you were. And I told you up front I was happy to go by your schedule. I knew you had the tour and other stuff to deal with.”

  “It’s true the tour was all-consuming, but that’s not the reason I wanted space. I just didn’t want to drag you into the mess I was in with Rachel.”

  I’m trying to find the right moment to explain my own news to Lincoln, but he keeps talking. I figure a few extra minutes won’t make a difference. And to be honest, I’m a little worried about his reaction. This might be the last time we have a friendly conversation.

  “Is everything sorted out with her now?”

  “Not exactly, but I hope to hear something from my lawyer soon. Either way, I’ll be selling my house, so I’ll organise that over the next few weeks. The main thing I’m trying to work out is how to see the girls again. Rachel is being a little difficult in that regard.”

  “Oh. Does that mean you might have to relocate to the UK?” My heart stops, waiting for the answer.

  “No, no, nothing like that. But I will probably go over at some point. The only problem is, Rachel registered the twins’ birth certificates without my name down as the father, so I’m going to have limited rights moving forward.”

  My mouth drops open. “She left you off the birth certificates?” I mean, I know I did the same to Daisy’s dad, but that was because he made it very clear he didn’t want to be a part of her life. I would never do that to someone I was in a serious relationship with.

  He rubs his face with his hands. “Yeah. It’s all a big mess.”

  Crap. I can’t drop my news on him now, can I?

  “Anyway, I needed to tell you that I want you in my life, but it might be a little messy. I’m not sure if that’s something you’re willing to commit to, and I will totally understand if you’d rather not.” He’d been looking down at the floor while talking but gazes up at me from behind those curls while waiting for my response. A small trace of a hopeful smile plays on his lips.

  I let out a deep breath.

  “You think things are messy now…”

  He narrows his eyes.

  “I…uh…I’m actually pregnant.”

  His eyes widen. “What?”

  “I’m not sure what happened, but I’m guessing something went wrong that night we were in Sydney…”

  “The baby’s mine?” he asks, stunned.

  “Yes! I haven’t slept with anyone else. I haven’t slept with anyone other than you since Daisy’s dad!”

  Lincoln looks like he’s going into shock. And while I’m trying to be the strong, sensible one here, it’s pretty damn hard, especially considering what happened the last time I announced to someone I was pregnant
.

  There’s a knock at the door. It takes a second for me to remember I’d invited Millicent over. I look at Lincoln apologetically and go to let her in.

  “Okay, what’s going on? Your message was vague but urgent.”

  I nod my head towards the living room. “I’m just talking to Lincoln.”

  “And you needed me, why?”

  I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell her.

  “I’m pregnant,” I whisper.

  “Holy shit!” she yells.

  I slap her arm. “Shh…”

  She points manically at the living room. “And Lincoln is the dad?” she mouths.

  I nod.

  “Do you want me to come back later?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Millicent, you can come in,” Lincoln calls out.

  Millicent shrugs and walks towards the living room. She’s never been one to shy away from a difficult situation. Even one that doesn’t concern her.

  “So…you knocked up my bestie, huh?”

  He lets out a puff of air. “Apparently.”

  “What do you mean apparently?” she demands, getting upset on my behalf.

  “I don’t mean anything by it,” he says tiredly. “I only learned the news myself about five seconds ago.”

  “Listen, buddy. Just because some little bitch lied to you once before doesn’t mean Tash would do it, too. She is the most honest person I have ever met, and you’d be damn lucky to have her to co-parent this baby. For the record, Daisy is a dream child, and it’s solely down to her. So, you better get your head around the situation and support her.”

  “Hey, Missy, give the guy a break. He’s dealing with a lot of other stuff at the moment. This is kind of the last news he needs right now.”

  Lincoln looks at me. “Look, I hate to ask this, but are you really sure it’s mine?”

  “I’m going to punch you in the face if you ask that again,” Millicent warns.

  “Yes, it’s yours. I’ll even get a paternity test to prove it,” I say.