And when Gabby had invited her into the booth to listen? I didn’t think I could sing “You Deserve It” knowing she was standing six feet away watching and keep it together.
She didn’t deserve it.
I was acting like a prick, but it was better than the alternative.
I sent her back to the hotel like she asked to take away the temptation to cross that boundary. And because I couldn’t singthat songin front of her. It was ridiculous. She’d heard it before, but I didn’t need to know she was in the room when it was coming out of my mouth. It felt like I was rubbing salt in her wound over and over again.
Ideserved this for writing it.
I’d somehow managed to forget she was a person when I saw the video of her proposal gone wrong. The context of it had taken me back to my own shame which ultimately didn’t have anything to do with her.
I’d been a clingy, overly romantic kid who couldn’t read the room and recognize she was trying to push me away. I was hearing wedding bells and she was just having a good time.
I’d never made that mistake again, had never let anyone get close enough for it to be an issue. And now here I was again treating her like my teddy bear when all she wanted to be was my fuckdoll.
That was fine. It wasn’t like I didn’t want her to be that too.
I tried to picture dating a twenty-one-year-old now and couldn’t fathom that age gap. In your early twenties, you think you’re grown up and know all the things…but you know fuck all about yourself or about the world. If someone that age thought they were ready to marry me now? I cringed, imagining how childish I must’ve seemed to her then.
The driver opened the door to the car and I slid into the seat, immediately feeling relief from the quiet empty space, but it didn’t last. Charlie slid in next to me and shut the door behind him, shaking the rain off his signature flatcap.
I had no doubt where this was going, so I put a hand on his shoulder. “Can we save the lecture? I’m jet-lagged like a motherfucker and it’s been a long day.”
He nodded thoughtfully, always a man who chose his words with care. “We’ve known each other a long time. Done hundreds of shows together. Never seen you act like this.”
I shrugged. “I’m just tired. I’m sorry I haven’t been myself.”
“I’ve been in this business a long time too and when an artist suddenly starts acting erratically, the first thing I think is booze or drugs.”
I sighed in irritation. “I’m not doing any drugs and I hardly drink.”
He carried on like I hadn’t said anything. “It’s my job to handle shit on the road so you don’t have to even know it happened. Damaged gear, travel issues, people out sick, problems at the venue…I know how to handle all that. But this?” He tapped my head. “Can’t handle that for you and none of this works without you.”
“Is this supposed to help?” I wanted to roll the window down because it felt like I couldn’t breathe, but if I moved my hand, he’d see how badly it was shaking. I didn’t need to be reminded how many people were counting on me to perform. I could feel the weight of every last one of them on my shoulders.
“What’s with the woman?” he asked, finally getting to the real source of his irritation.
“She’s an old friend.”
He snorted.
“Just let it go, Charlie.”
He frowned at me for another second, but eventually nodded. “No more surprises.”
I nodded back, still eyeing the button to roll down the window. Opening the window on a moving vehicle while it was pissing rain wasn’t the best way to reassure your tour manager you weren’t on drugs.
WhyhadI made Maia follow me around all day when she could’ve just relaxed at the hotel?
I’d been a fucking mess all day, but the only moments of peace I had were related to her. Her expression when I told her she had to wait until later to come. The challenge in her eyes when I told her she was being a mouthy slut who needed to be put on her knees. The way she’d given me some of the best head of my life like it was no big thing in the back of this car. Her soothing touch afterward.
The truth was, all I wanted to do was get back to the hotel and hold her like I had that morning. The feel of her in my arms made the buzzing of the world dim to a soft hum.
So I was back to being a grown man who needed a woman instead of a stuffed animal to deal with his feelings.
Real rock-star material right here, ladies and gentlemen…
What had I called her? My emotional support slut?
