Just a Girl (15 page)

@jukeboxbleu

Thanks to everybody who turned out to our Summerfest show. Best. Audience. Ever.

Replies:

@KenzieInk You guys rocked!

@Drinkinator Your new singer kicked ass!

@TheHornet All hail Presley Mason!

@Unicorn_Kitty Best show ever! Can’t wait to see you guys again!

@GoodnightJohnBoy That new singer is fine AF!

It was an offer to be the opening act for Tricky Dix on the Midwest leg of their national tour. It meant six shows over eight days. The pay was decent, but the exposure was everything. Plus, they’d cover our travel expenses. It was hands down the biggest opportunity Jukebox Bleu had ever had.

There was just one caveat: me. The promoters weren’t willing to take them without me.

That didn’t matter to the guys. They weren’t getting Ronnie back anytime soon, and the shows were coming up in less than a month. Barely enough time to audition new singers, even if they’d wanted to. And they didn’t want to. They wanted me to stay. For good.

None of them seemed to appreciate exactly what they were asking of me. First of all, they were looking to replace Ronnie, but was it really forever? What happened when Ronnie came back and wanted his job back? Who would take precedence? And second of all, I couldn’t help worrying that I was already pulling focus from the group. Maybe it was only a matter of timing, but I couldn’t help wondering if they’d only gotten the gig because of me. And if that were the case, would they learn to resent me as The Luminous 6 had? How long would it take before they were ready to throw me out?

But the worst part was something no one else in the band would understand. How could I possibly dive back into a band where my love life was part of the bargain? Would Paul choose the band over me if everything went south? Did I even want to know the answer to that question? I couldn’t handle it if I got double-dumped again. I knew now I’d been little more than a convenience to Brendan, and I didn’t want that ever again.

They begged me for two solid days. I got endless text messages—I didn’t even have all their numbers, but they were clearly passing mine around. I got random drop-ins at the music store.

The only person not begging me was Paul. He didn’t seem to have any feelings on the subject. I could guess that he was afraid of all those performances, the pressure of being part of a national tour. He probably didn’t want it at all. It might have had nothing to do with me.

Still, I couldn’t let the subject lie forever. I waited until the end of a workday to corner him.

“Are you hoping I’ll turn down the band so you won’t have to do the shows?” I asked him point-blank, standing on the threshold of his tiny classroom.

He paused in the middle of sorting his sheet music folder. “I’m not hoping anything.”

“Liar.”

“Well, it doesn’t really matter what I think, does it? You’ve all proven that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You make me get on the stage no matter what I think of the situation.”

I put my hands on my hips. “If you really hated it, you wouldn’t have agreed to do it in the first place. Part of you loves it, or you wouldn’t bother.”

“It’s true that I love music,” he said. “But the rest of it? It’s like the punishment I have to endure for playing music with my friends.”

“So you’re saying you want me to say no to the shows.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“So you want me to say yes.”

“I’m not saying that either.” He put the folder down and stood up to look me in the eye. “You have to leave me out of it.”

“That’s the thing.”

“What is?”

I took a deep breath. “I promised myself I would never get involved with a bandmate ever again.”

“Are you saying you won’t do it just because I’m in the band?”

“No. I’m saying if I do it, we have to…let things go between us.”

“What?”

“I can’t be in a relationship and a band with you. If I join, we can’t see each other anymore.”

“That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” I gripped the edges of the doorway for support. “I’ve been down that road before and I swore I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Presley…” He looked so confused. “We just did the show together. What are you even talking about?”

“That was as a onetime thing. I was only helping you guys out. But this is different. If I’m in, for real in, then I can’t be with you anymore.”

“So you’re saying you won’t do it because of me.”

“No. I’m saying it has to be one or the other. I can’t do both.”

“Okay, I can’t deal with this right now. I’m starving; we’re both tired. Let’s just get out of here. We’ll talk more later.”

“Paul, I’m trying to do the right thing here. I don’t want to get turned into some kind of Yoko Ono down the road. Relationships in bands never work out. I mean, hello, Fleetwood Mac? No Doubt?”

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I just need you to understand what’s at stake.”

“No. No. This is crazy.”

“I really like you,” I confessed. “I’m not willing to let things go bad between us.”

“So, you like me so much you’re breaking up with me? You do realize how completely stupid that is?”

“It’s not like that.”

“You actually want me to choose between having you in the band, and having you as my—” He faltered. We’d never put any kind of label on our relationship. “Having you, but also having my friends hate me because you won’t be in the band. Yeah, real fucking great choices there, Presley. Thanks.”

“I’m not asking you to choose,” I said slowly. “I’m just telling you that this is part of my decision-making process.”

“So
you
get to pick. I see. Well, okay then. I guess just let me know when you’re ready for me to sit up and fetch.”

“Paul, stop. You’re overreacting.”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to be calm when I’m getting dumped.” He stooped to pick up his guitar cases and took half a step toward me. “Excuse me.”

I stood my ground. “I’m not dumping you.”

“Yet.”

“I don’t
have
to join the band.”

“Oh yeah, they’d just love that. ‘Sorry, guys, we can’t take the biggest shows of our entire lives because of me. Hope you don’t mind!’ ” He renewed his intention to leave with another half-step forward, and one of the cases bumped into my thigh.

Reluctantly, I gave way, and he stormed down the hall toward the front entrance. I followed on his heels. “So what do you want me to do? Join or not?”

He stopped short, and I nearly collided with him, and had to dodge back to avoid getting hit by the electric guitar case as he spun around to face me. “I want you to not do this. Don’t ask me to make that kind of choice. Don’t ask yourself to make a choice.”

“Paul—”

“I want to not have this conversation. At all. I want this off the table.”

“I can’t do that.”

He took a long, shaky breath and I noticed his face had gone a bit pale. I had pushed him to the panic place. “Then you’re sitting at the table alone.”

And with that, he was out the door.

Whenever Brendan and I reached the off-again part of our relationship, I could count on him avoiding me. He’d disappear for days, not answering his phone; if I was lucky, I’d hear from Dixon or Shawn that he’d showed up somewhere. So I wasn’t expecting to hear from Paul for a while.

Instead it was only a couple of hours before I heard from him.

You up? I’m near your place,
he texted me.

I was. Wide awake and totally at sea.

A few minutes later, I got another message that he was here. I went downstairs to let him in, but he was sitting on the hood of his car, with no intention of coming inside. Barefoot, I padded down the driveway to join him on the hood. The metal was hot, like he’d been driving for a while.

“Is this some weird way of getting me to prove myself to you?” he asked.

“What? No. What do you even mean?”

“Am I supposed to beg? Tell you I can’t live without you?”

“No!” I said firmly. “I’m not like that.”

“I didn’t think so.” He sighed. “I kind of wish you were.”

“Why?”

“Because then I would know what to do.”

I stayed quiet, focusing on the crack in the driveway just in front of me.

“Pres, I know I haven’t exactly made myself clear on the subject, but I do care about you. A lot.”

The urge to take his hand, or touch his knee, was almost overpowering. I kept my hands clasped between my thighs. “I care about you, too.”

He fell silent for a long time. Long enough that I wondered if that was his final word on the subject.

“Then, fine. Let’s do it your way.”

“What?”

“Do the shows. Be our lead singer.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I don’t want any of this.” He slid off the hood and stood in front of me. “But you haven’t given me a lot of options here.”

“So you choose the band?”

His eyes went hard, and he spoke each word slowly and carefully. “I. Don’t. Choose. Anything. You do. This is on you.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not looking at me. “I guess that’s it then. I’ll see you at work.” He moved to the door of his car and opened it while I got down from the hood and turned to watch him.

“Paul.” Suddenly cold, I wrapped my arms around my middle.

“Please don’t,” he said.

So I didn’t say anything else. And I didn’t start to cry until he was gone.

There was no time or space for being sad about ending things with him. I still had to see him every day at work. I still had to see him at rehearsals with the band. He even drove me there when practice came right after work, though we sat in silence and didn’t much look at each other.

The band was overjoyed that I’d agreed to join. We didn’t tell anyone about the condition I’d put on joining, but it was obvious that James knew, which meant soon enough the rest of them would. And they’d have to be stupid not to notice the coolness between Paul and me after all the other times they’d seen us together.

Our first rehearsal was the worst, with Paul keeping his back slightly turned to me the whole time. I felt like there was an invisible wall of ice between us, or that he was simply a recording of himself. It was like he wasn’t there at all. We all suffered for it, with him not picking up on the cues from the rest of the band like he usually did.

Finally, Nick got tired of it, and insisted we rearrange the setup so I’d be at the opposite end from Paul. It was weird to sing from behind the horns. I couldn’t see James, Aric, or Paul from there. Rob didn’t look too happy about the disruption either, throwing more than one drumstick at the wall when we had to start over on one song three times to get the cues right.

“This is bullshit,” I heard him mutter several times.

I knew it would take some time. I had a little more experience dealing with an ex onstage, though with Brendan there had always been the feeling that it wasn’t a permanent state. But that fed our somewhat angry dynamic as a group, anyway. Here, the tension was not a good fit.

It would get better, I was sure of it. And I wasn’t about to get into the on-again-off-again cycle by telling Paul I wanted to get back together. That was exactly what I wanted to avoid.

Still, I have to admit it stung when he asked Karl to give me a ride home after that first rehearsal. Idiot girl. What did I think this was going to be like?

“Well, that was a shit show,” Karl observed when we were on the road.

“Yeah. Kind of rough.”

“Is that what you were hoping for?” he asked.

“No.”

“Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. There’s enough drama in any band without having to deal with who’s fucking who. But this seems counterproductive.”

“It’ll get better.”

He reached for the volume on the radio. “Whatever.” And then the music was too loud for any conversation.

Great. That made two bandmates not talking to me.

It was that way for the two weeks leading up to our first show. We’d had only four rehearsals, but by the end of the last one, pretty much no one in the band would even make eye contact with me.

The music was getting better, at least. Paul could function when I was at the other end of the stage setup. I wasn’t singing my hardest—I never do in rehearsals—but I had the songs down cold by this time.

The fun factor had all but disappeared for me, and I was counting on the energy of the stage to bring it back.

Now we just had to survive an eight-day road trip.

July 18

Me

I’m so stupid. How the hell am I supposed to survive a road trip with my ex-boyfriend?

Liv

You used to work with Brendan every fucking day even when you KNEW he was cheating on you. You’ll be fine.

Me

This is worse.

Liv

How could it possibly be worse? Brendan used to grope groupies in front of you.

Me

Yeah, but…I don’t know. It’s different.

Liv

Because you actually like this guy.

Me

I was with Brendan for almost 3 years.

Liv

Sometimes.

Me

Still.

Liv

But you didn’t love him.

Me

I don’t know. Maybe not. I guess I couldn’t have, could I?

Liv

No. Trust me. If you actually cared, you wouldn’t have put up with him.

Me

God I’m a disappointment.

Liv

Not to me. And not to your new boy.

Me

Oh trust me. I’m a huge disappointment to Paul.

Liv

You’ll figure it out.

Me

There’s nothing to figure out. There’s nothing left. Fuck.

Liv

You can always come home.

Just saying.

Me

Yeah.

Liv

Whoa. Don’t overreact here. Your enthusiasm is kind of intense.

Me

:)

Liv

You don’t want to come back, do you?

Me

Um…

Liv

I’ll try not to take that personally.

Me

It’s not you, I swear.

Liv

I’ll believe you for now, but only because I love you.

Me

Thank you. xoxoxoxox