“Good.” I cut her off. “Good. She’ll never come back here. Ever again. I’ll never see her, and I can’t go running back to her when I’m sad or I miss her. It’s right. It’s right. Kinsley will be safe, and I’ll never see her again.”
Hearing Alana’s old name from my younger self sounds like a forgotten language. The words pour out—manic and terrified. I’ve lived my breakdowns, but I’ve never watched one. Jesus. I look like a cracked-out raccoon. Young Amanda crosses her arms, rubbing them, bracing herself.
“Well, about that…” My head whips towards her.
“What?”
“It’s just, she asked me to do something, and um…” Amanda rocks her body from side to side. “Just because you don’t want to see her, it doesn’t mean I can’t, right?”
“No!” The younger me screams, and the sound reverberates through the speakers in the living room. “You have to stay away from her!” The younger me pushes his hands through his hair, a tic I knew I had but never saw happen. “What did she ask you to do?”
Amanda mumbles something and the younger version of me can’t hear it. So she repeats it. “She wants me to take care of you.”
In the living room, the adult Amanda sits down and covers her face. Was this the only reason she stayed in my life? She was fulfilling a promise she made to Alana back when we were kids? Was I an unwanted burden for Amanda for all these years?
On the screen my younger self slaps his head. “Of course she would,” he whisper. Then my head starts bobbing fast. I pace. “Okay. Okay. If that’s what she wants, then I need to be better. Not… this.” I gesture to my body. “I need to be successful.”
Amanda asks, “And what exactly do you define as successful?”
“Grammys. Awards. Chart hits.” I grab her arms. “I want to be famous—no, powerful. We need to start our own company. You, me, CJ, and Lena. Far away from Legacy. Help me do that.” My hands move to her shoulders. My voice softens. “We have to do this. We have to keep her safe.” She tries to step back, but my knuckles whiten when I grip her shoulders.
“You have three more albums before you’re out of your contract. We’ll work hard and get them done. Every one of my successes will be yours. The awards. The hits. The music.” I cradle her cheeks. “You’ll be your own boss, and they’ll never hurt you again.”
Amanda studies my face, brows pulling into a deep V. A small, almost imperceptible motion as she dips her chin. “You promise Kinsley will be okay?” I nod.
“When the time is right, we’ll go get her,” Amanda states leaning into my chest, staring into the camera. “Why the hell are you recording this?”
I step away and walk toward the lens. “I have no memory of feeling this depressed and hopeless before.”
“So?”
“My brother died when I was twelve. When I was fifteen, I tried to kill myself. I don’t remember either event. They’re blacked out. I must’ve felt like this, but I have no frame of reference. No way to cope. I’m going to black out, and I’m going to forget all of this happened.” I stare straight into the lens. “I’m giving this to you. You can give it back when you think I’m ready.” I lean closer. “Two twenty-seven.”
The camera cuts. The room is silent until Amanda starts crying again. “She asked me to watch over you. You asked me to stay away from her for her. Both of you put the full burden of the other’s wellbeing on me, and it cost me everything.”
Alana and I make quick and shameful eye contact. It wasn’t fair to Amanda. But CJ scoffs, “You didn’t lose everything. You had Grae, which caused your career to explode.”
Amanda snaps and points to Alana, “She was the only one in my life who didn’t want me for clout or money or fame. She had no other motive than wanting me not to be alone.” Amanda drags her hands down her face. “And she asked me to protect the man who dumped her. And she was right. He needed so much protection. From himself, and the industry.” Some of the anger fades, replaced entirely by exhaustion as she adds in a whisper, “Dating Grae was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Ouch.
Amanda glances up and catches whatever look is on my face, then quickly shakes her head and gives me a half-smile. “Not that you weren’t a great boyfriend, but I was dumb enough to think I could replace her. And as soon as we started dating, I lost Lena too, because Lena and Alana give and demand unflinching loyalty.” She turns back to CJ, “I lost the people who mattered to me, because that’s how much I love them. I would do anything to keep them safe.” But there’s a flash of humor in Amanda’s voice. “I mean, I wouldn’t pick up a hobby of chopping off fingers.”
The humor is mirrored back as Alana says, “I don’t know how many times you need to do something to consider it a hobby.”
I don’t understand how either of them can joke right now. There were so much pain and unspoken responsibility for both of them.
“I’m sorry you had to do this all on your own. I didn’t realize I was such a burden,” I say to my best friend.
“I mean, it’s not a terrible trade off. We make incredible music together.” Amanda winks at me, behind the tears, “But she's so much cooler than you.”
“Agreed.” I say and look at Amanda checking in that we’re still good. She gives me a reassuring smile. Twelve years of friendship became stronger in the matter of seconds. My attention drops to the phone and journal. “But the video only told us everything we already knew,” I whisper. Disappointment clings to me like a cape. “It doesn’t answer why. You never asked why?”
Frustrated, I hand the phone back to Craig. He scrolls—pictures of dogs, the acceptance email, Alana and me young and happy. More of the same.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Craig says. “Why wouldn’t Alana be safe?”
“What?” I ask.
