Following the sound I found him in the bathroom off the kitchen, pants unbuttoned and struggling to open the toilet. “What the hell. Help! I pissed everywhere!” He shouted. His words jolted me out of the sleepy haze I had walked down in. I looked around the bathroom and saw that he had indeed urinated all over my bathroom floor.
I was speechless. I didn’t know where to start with this. It was three in the morning, he was drunk, and I couldn’t take a step into the room without stepping in pee. Sighing I went back to the kitchen and opened my cleaning supply cupboard. I pulled out a mop and floor cleaner.
I set them down in the bathroom and told him to clean it up.
“You better not leave this house tomorrow without having this taken care of,” I said to him. He waved me away and I left him to it.
In the morning when we came back down, we found him in the bathroom still. He had managed to get the toilet seat up, but only to throw up in it. Mark kicked his foot to wake him up. Derek jumped and looked around, his eyes settling on us.
“Get this cleaned up. All of it,” Mark demanded.
The smell of vomit and urine was stuck inside the kitchen, so we decided to go out for breakfast. By the time we returned, thankfully, he had gotten up and cleaned up the mess he had made last night. He started pouting when he discovered that we had gone out.
“Oh, come on, you didn’t bring me anything?”
I had to leave the room, afraid of what I’d do if he said one more word to me.
After that Mark told him to stay somewhere else for awhile, and he did. He left for four glorious days and upon his return he promised not to make such a mess. I’d believe it when I saw it.
One morning while I was in the shower Mark came into the bathroom.
“Have you checked your phone this morning? Someone wrote an article about us and it’s getting a lot of attention.” Sighing, I closed my eyes and rinsed my hair. I thought this crap was over. I didn’t feel like hearing more about how awesome my husband and Cleo were.
“No, I think I’ll pass this time,” I said, opening the shower and stepping out to grab my towel. “I’ve had enough nonsense journalism for a lifetime.” I glanced over at him, but he was shaking his head.
“No, it’s not like that. Someone wrote a rebuttal to the magazine article. It’s freaking awesome,” he said handing me his phone. I scrolled to the top and the read the headline. “The Bullsh*t Truth About Being A Celebrity’s Wife” I smiled and continued on.
Whoever wrote this got it just right. She talked about how we were always in the background despite hungry fans and that despite celebrity’s often times being flirty, they were pretty loyal to the ones sitting at home.
She then addressed the magazine that did the article.
“What happened here is clearly the person doing the interview decided that the MOTHER of this future child is not as important as the best friend. What a joke. Renee Lesley was mentioned twice, TWICE, in the entire article that was about HER baby.”
She finished her rant with a hashtags #Rockstarwivesrock and #ReneeandMark. I gave the phone back to him and finished drying myself.
“That’s pretty awesome. She hit the nail right on the head.”
“Oh no, you don’t even know the half of it. Those hashtags are trending. Baby, people are loving you. They’ve created fan pages and are posting pictures of us. It’s insane. Look,” he went through his phone again and pulled up a profile. OFFICIAL #MARKANDRENEE FAN PAGE, it said. I went through and saw they had pinned the article and then hundreds of people were commenting and sharing their opinions and pictures from shows or my own social media page.
I didn’t see a single mean comment in the hundreds I scanned through. Everyone was supportive and thought it was awesome how close we all were.
I spent the rest of the morning going through as many of the posts as I could. When Mark announced he was leaving for work he wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my cheek.
“Have fun, Love. See, I told you she was insane. Now you’re not so behind the scenes,” he teased. I rolled my eyes and kissed him back. I had to admit it was nice seeing people acknowledging my role in the my husband’s life.
After lots of thought I decided to address it on my page. I thanked everyone for the support and appreciated the acknowledgments, adding the hashtag of the day #Rockstarwivesrock to the end.
Naturally that started another flood of responses, but I finally gave up trying to read them all. I got up off the couch and began going through my everyday routine. When I had a few lulls I would go back and look again. One post caught my eye. A girl asked if we had a P.O. Box for fan-mail. Did we?
I called Mark and asked.
“The band does, and Cleo you have one right?” I heard her answer him faintly in the background.
“Yeah, I’ll have Sam text you the info. Why?”
“People are asking for it.”
“Oh, cool. Maybe we’ll get some fun letters to put in a book or something for Scooby.”
