“Or is it because you’re getting too famous for me?” Bitterness is an aftertaste in her tone.
Wh-what?
Flabbergasted by the rage she thinks she’s hiding, I stammer, “I’d actually have to be famous to feel famous, and I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been distant. It wasn’t intentional.”
“That’s what everyone says.” She sighs like I’m tiring her. “If I go on Pinterest, I’ll find that apology a hundred times.”
Throbbing from the back of my neck trickles all the way to my forehead and starts to pound my head. “Thea?—”
“Just leave it, okay? I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she demands, sounding angrier than I’ve ever heard her.
This anger isn’t instant; it sounds slow-burning, like it’s been simmering for a long time before spilling over the edge.
Hearing the concert muffled through the walls, I wish I’d never left, seeing how I wouldn’t have been able to take this call. “How do you expect me to forget this conversation ever happened?” I stutter. “I can’t do that, Thea. We need to resolve this!”
“What’s done is done,” she replies, cold and distant.
Rubbing between my eyes, I attempt to find some comfort. “The problem for me is, I believe nothinghasbeen done. Before I left, you knew life on tour was going to be crazy, but you encouraged me to go anyway. Each chance that I got to text you, I did. We still message back and forth, FaceTime, and I’ve sent you an annoying number of pictures of different cities, food, and even the tour bus.” Taking a deep lungful of air, I continue, “Even if people are gossiping about me, I haven’t changed one bit.”
She mutters, “You’re wrong.”
I shake my head even though she can’t see me. I can’t change people when they’ve already made their mind up. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“I’m being a bitch, aren’t I? I just don’t want you to forget about me for Hollywood, just like Elijah did toyou.”
“I’ll never forget about you, Thea. I’m sorry life has been so crazy.”
“I get it… I think,” she muses over the line. “Sorry for my outburst.”
“It’s okay,” I say softly, picking away at my nails.
“Hey, look, I gotta go. Talk to you later.”
My lungs shrink ten times smaller, and the phone disconnects.
The door swings open, startling me, and bangs against the wall, for sure leaving a hole there.
“Hey, are you okay?” Elijah, out of breath, rushes to me and cups my cheeks. Frantic eyes look over each inch of my body before settling on my eyes.
“Elijah Drakos, what do you think you’re doing?! You are in the middle of a show. Get back onstage right now!” Fay runs into the room, equally as distraught, looking like she’s ready to kill my boyfriend.
“I don’t care about that right now.” He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “All I care about is you,” is whispered just for me to hear.
“You ran offstage in the middle of a show because of me?” My voice wavers, cracking mid-sentence, like my body has no strength.
He nods. “I was worried about you. I saw you run backstage, all sad, and it killed me not to run right after you.”
The longer he stays put, the more crew members start gathering around the door, looking more worried as the seconds go by.
“Elijah, if you don’t start moving your butt to where you’re supposed to be, I’m going to fire you,” Fay warns, grabbing his arm and tugging slightly.
From where we are, the crowd sounds confused and a bit angry. Yet the threat goes over Elijah’s head, who seems to not be worried at all.
“Fay, you can’t fire me,” Elijah spits out playfully before giving me a hard stare. “I’m going to be right back, okay? If you need me, come to the curtain and wave me down.”
“She can wait until after the show,” Fay exclaims like she can’t believe her ears. She pulls him away and out the door, like it’s the end of the world.
My body sags when I’m alone with my thoughts again.
