Hooked

by Nicole Howard

  Instead of going home to whatever disaster was awaiting, I called Myles. My escape would be take-out, wine, and my boyfriend. At least one thing in my horrible day could go right.

  With the music blaring, I sang at the top of my lungs on the drive to my favorite Chinese restaurant. I ordered two combos, waited fifteen minutes, and took my take-out bag. After pulling into Myles’ driveway, I got out and bent over to grab the take-out on the passenger’s side, splitting the seam of my pants in the process.

  “For the love of shit.” I cursed, standing up and hitting my head on the door frame. Balancing the paper bag in one hand, I rubbed the sore spot on my head with the other. I was just about to shut the door when I realized something warm was dripping down my forearm. It took me a couple of seconds to clue in that the sauce from the containers was leaking through the bag. The sauce had made its way down my arm and onto my newly ripped pants. Flustered and done with my streak of bad luck, I slammed the door and marched to Myles’ front door.

  Myles was standing in the doorway taking it all in. His girlfriend in all her glory, unbalanced on uneven shoes, wearing beige pants streaked with bright red sweet and sour sauce. Winner, winner, Chinese dinner.

  “What happened to you?” He couldn’t contain his laughter and rightfully so. If things had been the other way around, I would have had a field day.

  “It’s been a day.” I sighed, handing him the dripping, sticky, take-out bag. Pushing my hair out of my face, I realized my mistake when my hair caught in the stickiness on my skin. “Of course, I would manage to get food in my hair.” My patience with things was nearing an end. My eyes were burning with unshed tears that were begging for release after dealing with the overwhelming crapshoot of a day.

  “Why don’t you run to the bathroom and clean your hair. I’ll dish out the food. I think we should probably use plates.”

  “Do you have any plastic ones? That would probably be safer for all involved given my level of clumsiness today.” I kicked off the broken shoes. Sadly, they would be heading to the garbage when I got home.

  “Are your pants split?” Myles exclaimed when I bent down to move my shoes into his closet.

  “Oh, haven’t you heard? Split pants are the new thing. It’s like when girls used to wear their thongs above their pants, except backward. Sort of.” I joked, more amused with my humor than he was. His face was somber, prompting me to give a more practical response. “They split outside in the driveway when I leaned down to pick up the food. I’ve seriously had the worst day. I’ll fill you in once I wash this stuff out of my hair.”

  “Grab a pair of sweatpants from my room too. That way you can get out of those pants.”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. Whether or not he was aware, those sweatpants would be coming home with me tonight. My shoes would need to wait until I got home for their trip to the garbage, but these ripped, stained babies right here, they would be starting their voyage to the dump ASAP.

  Myles had two plates loaded with rice, chow mein, sweet and sour chicken, and beef and broccoli on the table with two glasses of red wine. My eyes darted to the wine, an oasis after walking through the desert.

  “Thank you!” I pressed a hard kiss to his lips before sitting down to eat.

  “Well, you brought the food. The least I could do was make sure it didn’t end up on the floor.” He chuckled and forked rice into his mouth. “So, this day of yours?”

  “I swear, anything that could have gone wrong did.” For twenty minutes I relived my day, not leaving out a single detail. By the time I’d arrived at the mishaps just outside of his door, I felt so much better. The dark clouds of the day had lifted.

  We followed dinner with a second glass of wine, cuddled up on his couch watching television and sharing kisses. Things had finally turned around and the day ended a hell of a lot better than it had started.

  ***

  I don’t think we should see each other anymore.

  The words stared up at me from the screen of my phone. No matter how many times I read them, they still said the same thing. Myles was breaking up with me. Via text! Eight months of dating and he had the nerve to end it while hiding behind a screen.

  Was I supposed to respond? I had zero experience with being dumped, let alone being tossed aside by technology. Three times I typed an explicit laced response, only to delete everything, wishing he had the guts to say it to my face. At least then my reaction would have just happened, instead of the awkward debate and over-analyzing of what to say. It wasn’t something I could just wing. I needed help or at the very least a second opinion. So, I called Ally.

  “Hey, Mags.” Ally greeted. The background was silent for a change.

  “Is your house actually quiet?” I asked, surprise in my tone.

  “It is. The girls are sleeping, and Tim is out of town with the band for a couple of days.”

  “That must be nice. You deserve some downtime.” The girl was run ragged most days, taking care of the girls while having a husband always on the road.

  She laughed. “You would think I’d be enjoying myself, but really, I’m just going crazy. I’m not used to the house being this quiet. It’s weird. Needless to say, I’m happy you called. Take my mind off it.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I called with a boatload of drama, then.”

  “Oh, God. What happened?” Ally was used to my petulance for drama, but I had scaled it back since she moved away, and even more after I started dating Myles.

  “I just got a text from Myles. He broke up with me.”

  “Over text?” She sounded as shocked as I was. “Who the hell does that? Oh god. I guess I’m guilty of worse. I only left Tim a note when I left him.”

  “Your situation was a little different. You left a note because you didn’t want to leave. This whole text dumping, it’s like Myles doesn’t even care.”

  “Maybe he thought it would be too emotional to do it face-to-face?” She was grasping at straws. Myles and I worked, we had fun and things were simple. But our relationship had never made any real traction. The emotions were low key at best.

  “Definitely not. It was just easier and faster to do it with a few keystrokes on a phone.”

  “Well, that just sucks ass, Mags. I’m sorry.” Her concern was genuine.

  “I think I’m okay with the whole thing. I just wish he hadn’t done it through text. I mean, what am I supposed to send back? Or am I even supposed to respond?” That’s what I really wanted to know.

  “Oh, I think you should respond, with a few choice words.”

  “So, if I do respond, that’s okay?” I wanted to respond. It would be weird to just let his message stand without saying my piece.

  “I think it’s expected. Anyone would respond. You deserve an explanation.”

  “Does it really matter? His reasons for ending it are irrelevant now.” Placing Ally on speaker, I opened the text message and typed out my response.

  Okay, sounds good. Take care.

  I hit send before I could overthink the message.

  “There. I just sent a response.”

  “What did you say?” Ally asked, fully invested.

  “Just said, ‘Okay, sounds good. Take care.’”

  “No, you didn’t. ‘Sounds good’? Seriously?”

  “Well, what was I supposed to say? I don’t want him to think I’m over here crying about it.”

  Did you ever really care?

  Myles’ message popped up on my screen.

  “What the hell?” My voice raised a little too much, taken back by his message.

  “What?”

  “He just texted back and said, ‘Did you ever really care?’. How can he say that? I wasn’t the one who ended things through text.”

  “What an asshole!”

  “See, I told you I would bring the drama. I’m not responding to that. We’ll just end up arguing and I don’t feel like dealing with that.” I meant it too. No matter how much his words bothered me, it wasn’t
worth the time or energy to fight it out. Not when the outcome would be the same.

  “And you never fail to deliver.” Ally laughed again. “I wish we lived closer. You should move here.”

  “I like it here.” I might not have anything concrete keeping me in Texas, but I did have friends, a job, and was comfortable there. Following Ally, would feel like intruding on her life, not building my own. I wasn’t willing to do that. Not even for my best friend.

  “You should come to visit soon then. It’s been too long.”

  “That I will agree to.” By the end of the conversation, I had a roundtrip flight booked for the next weekend and something to look forward to.

  Despite the excitement of my upcoming trip, Myles’ words were still on my mind while I laid in bed. I thought I cared. I tried to care, but what If I’d only been trying to try? What if I never really wanted us to last?

  Chapter 16

  Fishing

  Justin

  “You guys are okay with asking for them to change this right? They have us on the road for four weeks straight three times this year. That’s not going to work.” Tim stated as the three of us huddled around the coffee table in Tim’s basement reviewing the proposed tour schedule for the next twelve months. It used to be easy, with little to no changes. But those days were long gone apparently, and it wasn’t just Tim anymore. Both he and Ian had the schedule black-lined to the point it was almost impossible to read.

  “I thought the goal was to tour the US, Canada, and Europe this year. There’s no way that’s possible if we don’t stay on the road a few times.” I argued. With the new and improved lives of Tim and Ian, I was willing to be reasonable and agree to some flexibility, but it was becoming ridiculous. So much for forward progress with Hazed. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, sales were down. And no wonder. Our fans were catching on that the dedication to Hazed had waned.

  “Then maybe the solution is to cut down on the number of cities we hit. There have to be a few places we can skip.” Tim was circling locations, identifying those that he thought could be knocked off. I watched him circle a few before opening my mouth.

  “We haven’t been to some of those places in years. I get that you want to be home more. Honestly, I do. But this is our job. We owe it to our fans, you know, the people who have made us who we are.”

  “I owe it to my family.”

  “Well, maybe this isn’t the place for you anymore then.” The words slipped out. Sure, I had thought them a time or two, or a dozen, but I didn’t mean them. Hazed wouldn’t survive without one of us.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Tim’s face reddened and Ian stood, ready to separate us if it came to blows. It didn’t matter to me if it did. Hazed was all I had left.

  “Something needs to change. Not you leaving, but we need to do something. We’re already starting to lose fans and I can’t blame them. This tour can put us back on track. Show everyone we’re still here and going strong.”

  “Justin has a point.” Ian for once siding with me. “Our numbers are decreasing. Not much, but a drop is a drop and we should react.”

  “You want to be on the road more? Away from Sarah, now?” Tim seemed doubtful, and a little too confident that he’d played the right card to win the argument.

  “No. You know I don’t. The timing isn’t great, but we can manage the schedule. Sarah and I will make it work.”

  “What’s going on with you and Sarah?” His comment left me confused. Whatever it was, Tim was in the loop, and I once again was left out.

  “Sarah’s pregnant.” Ian responded, not being able to hide his proud smile. Our meeting had just taken a turn for the worse.

  “Shit man, congratulations.” Another one bites the dust. Making things work with Tim’s two kids, was hard enough. Ian having a kid in the mix, it would be impossible to make the rehearsal schedule work.

  “We can work the schedule around that. Take a month off around when she’s due. Try to handle the long stretches before the baby is due.” Ian proposed.

  “I’m good with that.” I agreed even though I wasn’t completely sold.

  “Sure, you’re good with that, but what about the fact that I want more time off?” Tim countered.

  “Your girls aren’t newborns. When Ally had the baby, we made a ton of accommodations with the schedule. Remember, we recorded an album?”

  “Why can’t we do that now? How about we tour for the next six months, then take the rest of the year off and work on another album?” Tim suggested, attempting to veer the discussion in another direction.

  “We just released one. We need a solid year of touring. It makes sense to break for the baby, but we still need to work. We still need to be out there on the stage.” I continued to add to my argument.

  “Well, we’ll have to break for two months then.” Tim sighed loudly, dropping his head into his hands.

  “We… what?” Ian asked, turning his attention to Tim. “You guys too?”

  “We just found out a couple of days ago.” Tim looked up, a hint of a grin on his face. “The baby is due a few weeks after yours, so they’ll be close in age.”

  “Jesus Christ. Is this catching? Because if so, you need to keep your distance.” My head was spinning. More babies meant less time for Hazed, and we were already balancing on a narrow ledge. It was time to lay my cards on the table. We needed an injection of life, and I had been holding on to the perfect needle.

  “I have an idea, and given the circumstances, I think it makes even more sense. But you two need to hear me out.”

  “I’m open to anything that will help Hazed.” Ian sat back down on the couch. It was great that he was willing to listen, but he wasn’t the one I was worried about. Tim and I had built Hazed from the ground up, playing in dive bars, and struggling to write and record music before finding Ian. Hazed had always been our baby, up until Tim started having human ones.

  “Tim?” I pointed my question at him.

  “I’ll hear you out, but I’m not making any promises.” That was better than nothing.

  “We need fresh blood. Something to give the band a boost, especially now that it’s looking like our full-year schedule is going to shit.”

  “No way.” Tim shouted, rising from his seat. “It’s been the three of us and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

  “You aren’t hearing him out.” Ian gave Tim a hard look. Tim sat back down.

  “I’m suggesting we officially add Ryan. I know it means we’re going to four, but it’s not like I’m saying we should add someone off the street.” I had planned a speech for my sales pitch, but I lost my focus with Tim’s outburst.

  “Ryan does make sense.” Ian agreed, receptive to the suggestion.

  “He knows our music, he gets along with everyone, and the fans love him. This isn’t about replacing anyone if that’s where you think I’m going with this. It’s about adding. And right now, I think we could use it.” I paused, getting back on track with my selling points. “How nice would it be to have another person writing? To help carry some of that work. And with four of us, it would be easy for two of us to make appearances to keep up the public image. Signings, some sets in dive bars, the stuff we’ve lost sight of because our schedules have been tight when we’re on the road.” I paused, letting my words set in. “Ryan and I don’t have anywhere else to be. We don’t have as much to balance as you two. We can be out in the world more. Two of us can carry that load, with you guys popping in when it works for you. Plus, it would be fresh media coverage by officially adding a new member and Ryan has a different look. He brings in fans from different demographics.”

  “You’ve given this some thought.” Tim stated, appearing angry.

  “I’ve had time to think. I know your lives are busy, but mine isn’t. Trying to manage appearances on my own would be impossible, but if there are two of us, it would work.”

  “Is this because our married with children lives are messing with your sex life?” Tim growle
d.

  “I know you think that I’m all about sex, but if you haven’t noticed, I haven’t gotten laid in months. Haven’t even tried. You know, if you paid even the slightest bit of attention, you would have noticed I’ve been lost in this shitty place of broken-heartedness for a while.” I shot back. Fuck, that truth wasn’t supposed to surface.

  “But that’s beside the point.” I moved on, covering my tracks before Tim or Ian had a chance to react to the slip. “This isn’t about my sex life. This is about Hazed. This is about my career. Our career. Adding Ryan doesn’t just help me, it helps all of us. Including your wives and children. All I’m asking is for you to think about it. We don’t need to make a decision right now.”

  “I’m open to thinking about it.” Ian stated. “It might be the right direction. Our lives have changed over the years. Hazed needs to grow with us.”

  “I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this.” Tim exclaimed, perplexed by his own words. “But you have a point. We can’t keep moving forward like this and expect it to work. Things are changing.”

  “Okay.” I smiled for the first time since arriving at Tim’s. “Let’s take a couple of days apart to think it over. Then we can revisit.” It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was at least a possibility.

  “I don’t need a couple of days. I think it’s the right decision.” Tim stated, shocking me with his lack of hesitation. After all the arguing, he accepted too easily. “But if Ian needs some time to think, I’m good with that.”

  “I knew my answer as soon as you said Ryan’s name.” Ian agreed.

  “Are you guys almost done?” Sarah hollered from the top of the stairs. “I don’t mean to rush you, but I’m exhausted.” Normally, the girls were in and out of the basement all the time, but they knew what we were discussing, and I’m assuming, they were giving us privacy. Given the circumstances, the likelihood of disagreements had been high. I can’t blame them for keeping their distance.

  “We’re just finishing, Sare.” Ian shouted. “Sorry guys. This whole pregnancy thing is draining her. I swear all she does is sleep now.”