Marek and I have talked about all kinds of things, and laughed, and when I’ve cried, he’s soothed me. I made him laugh when I told him about my name for Breadly and told him that Breadly is very kneady. He also laughed when I added things to his schedule on the whiteboard, like MONDAY—have nightmares, TUESDAY—wake up at 3a.m. for no reason, THURSDAY—buy edibles.
On TUESDAY, he added beneath my note,havemultipleorgasms to improve sleep quality.
That made me smile. He’s not wrong. I’m definitely sleeping better.
Two of his games before the break are on the road.
“I’ll get Mabel to come by,” Marek says as he’s about to leave for Montreal.
“No!” I slap a hand over my mouth after the word bursts out of me.
Marek frowns. “Why not? She’ll keep you company.”
I shake my head. How do I handle this? She’s his sister. “She’s… a lot to handle,” I say. “I’d rather be alone.”
He looks disappointed. “I know she’s a lot,” he admits. “But she has a good heart. She was really upset last time.”
“I’m sure she does have a good heart,” I quickly agree. “Absolutely. I’m just… she’s…” How do I tell him I can’t handle his sister and all her chatting and energy? I can’t. “Okay, sure.”
He nods, his face clearing. “I’ll tell her to tone things down.” Then he makes a face as if he doesn’t really want to do that.
Marek’s been gone for about an hour when I get a call from Blake. I’ve let his other calls go to voicemail, but, heaving a sigh big enough to generate electricity, this one I answer.
“Hey! Finally!” he says. “How are things going?”
How are things going? What things? There is nothing going on.“Good,” I answer, walking over to Marek’s couch to sit. “How are you?”
“Busy! As usual. I’ve been dealing with all your social media and business emails, don’t worry about that.”
I haven’t been.
“But I sent you a bunch of emails and you haven’t replied.” To my personal email.
I stare at the view of Manhattan out the big windows. “I haven’t checked my personal emails.” I haven’t even thought about it.
“Jesus, Nik. We canceled the tour but there’s still a lot going on. We need to figure out if we’re going to reschedule, and if so, when, and how that’s going to set back your next album.”
“Next album.” I keep repeating what he says because none of it makes any sense to me. “Blake. There isn’t going to be a next album.”
Silence. “Excuse me?” he finally says.
“I can never come back from this.” I run a hand through my hair. “I can’t do it.”
Give yourself some grace.Marek’s voice echoes in my head. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Of course you can do it,” Blake says. I think he’s trying to sound soothing and encouraging but his voice has an edge of impatience to it. He’s not really a touchy-feely guy. “You’re Nikki Sullivan.”
“That’s my name,” I agree but I’m not sure who Nikki Sullivan is anymore.
“What have you been doing for the last two weeks?” he asks. “Have you been writing?”
“No. I’ve been doing… nothing. Sleeping a lot. Taking a lot of showers.”
“Jesus. You need to get it together, Nik. I have to get back to Bruno and Todd. We need to revise this year’s plan.”
Bruno is my booking agent. He’s the one who arranges my live performances, negotiating finances, arranging technical set-ups for shows, and setting up logistics like flights, hotels, and dinners. Todd is an A&R guy at Realm Records.
“Also, we have interest from Universal looking for a track for a movie. Imagine what scoring a sync like that would do for you.”
