Page 58 of Backstage

The anger is working its way into my stomach. Does she have to be so honest with those guys all the time? They clearly can’t keep a secret. “Couldn’t you lie? Do you realize what a mess you’ve made?”

I immediately regret the words once they’re out of my mouth when I see the pain in her eyes turning to rage—hard fury that nails me to the spot.

“You’re the one who wants to keep me a secret like I’m a whore you’re ashamed of. I have no problem telling my friends who I’m sleeping with because they’re friends and care about me. Get over yourself, Damian. So what if people know we’re sleeping together? It’s not a big deal. I never ask you to go out to dinner, watch a movie, nothing. I know I’m nothing but a fuck to you, and I decided to swallow my pride and let it be what it is. But don’t blame me for your guilty conscience. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m getting on the bus. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, we’re outside. Someone might see us together.” Her words are so cold that I feel the air in my lungs freezing.

I watch her falter when she sees Thomas a few steps away watching us, but she immediately recovers and gets on the bus with her head held high and her proud look, slamming the door behind her. I realize I’ve been an asshole, the biggest jerk ever, and the anger rises in my stomach, clutching me like it hasn’t happened in a long time.

“We’re leaving,” announces my best friend with a stern expression. I know he thinks I’ve fucked up everything beyond repair, and I walk towards him with a tearing sense of guilt and a sinking heartache.

I get on the bus and find Michael and Simon already waiting for me. Behind me, Thomas puts his hand on my back, inviting me to sit down. Their faces are gloomy, and I know I’m going to get an earful from them too.

“We asked you, and you specifically told us you weren’t fucking her,” Simon scolds.

“I didn’t want it to get out,” I say without much conviction. It sounds ridiculous, even to my ears.

“Don’t be a dick,” slams Michael in anger. “You could have counted on our discretion, but now the whole crew knows. How long do you think it’ll take the media to find out? There’s practically a bounty on your head for any information about you, and that’s the queen of bullshit for the fucking front pages!”

For a moment, the room fills with a tense silence that doesn’t allow me to breathe. I put my head down, ashamed as an idiot for the mess I made. And I even blamed Lilly. I deserve the “Asshole of the Year” award for this one.

“You told me you were just having fun, that she was cool with it, too,” Thomas snaps with spite. “From the conversation I just witnessed out there, it sounds like a one-way street to me. You’re having fun. She just accepts what you give her because she knows; otherwise, she’d have nothing else. I have no idea if she’s in love with you, but it’s more than obvious she’s invested feelings in it. Meanwhile, you’re still the piece of shit who uses women, and that’s it!” And that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

I get up on my feet and head for the stairs, stopping only when I hear Simon intervene. Usually, he is the quietest of the group. “Yeah, that’s right, run away, you prick,” his tone a mixture of annoyance and anger.

“Why the hell aren’t you guys on my side? I made a mistake. I don’t need you to insult me and make me feel like an idiot. I expected at least some support from you,” I snarl angrily.

Simon turns and looks at me with an expression of pity that almost hurts. “You’ve ruined everything with the only decent girl that’s ever come into your life. If you’ll excuse me, I’m not on your side on this one. Now go call Evan and tell him the truth, he’s gonna have a lot of damage control to do.”

Just hearing our manager’s name makes my stomach clench miserably. He’s gonna crucify me worse than these three put together. And even though I know I deserve it, I’m not happy about getting into more shit. I clench my fists and stomp up the stairs. It’s gonna be a long, painful phone call.

*

Thomas gets on the bus after we stop for breakfast. I didn’t get off, partly because I’ve been in a bad mood since yesterday and partly because I don’t want to see Lilly. We haven’t spoken since our conversation outside her bus; seeing her right now wouldn’t do any good. My friend throws six gossip magazines at the table in front of me in sequence: all showing pictures of Lilly and me together, taken during concerts. I read a couple of them and almost throw up.

People:

Sources close to the couple say the relationship has been going on for months now, and in front of everyone. While there are still no photos that testify to the couple’s official status, it seems that Damian and Lilly now live under the same roof, or rather inside the tour bus. The same sources say official confirmation of the two’s involvement will be soon, maybe during a romantic dinner or a date. We just have to be patient enough to get some photos to confirm the new golden couple.

Gossip Now:

Apparently, the Jailbirds’ contest wasn’t so random. Sources tell us that Damian Jones and Lilly Jenkins have been having an affair since long before the Red Velvet Curtains won the competition that took them on tour, sharing the stage with the biggest band in the world. Those who didn’t think Jenkins was worthy of a stage of that magnitude were right, and some rumors are circulating that the talents that got her there are not musical. The “no comment” issued by the band representative seems to confirm a lack of explanation for these accusations.

“Your famous ‘fuck them all’ expression was translated by Evan into a more appropriate ‘no comment’, which the press interpreted as an admission,” Thomas states coldly. Though his statement sounds completely indifferent, his eyes hold nothing but anger towards me.

“Lilly could have made a statement, denying everything...” I know my suggestion is the dumbest I could give.

“You realize she’s the most vulnerable one in all of this, don’t you? She’s the one who’s gonna get slaughtered by fans, chased by paparazzi, slammed across the front page like another girl trying to make a name for herself at your expense, right? They’re not gonna go easy on her, and you’re lucky she’s not already on this bus kicking your ass.”

I’m still sipping my coffee but the lump in my throat keeps me from swallowing. I know she’s gonna come out of this with broken bones and, as much as it bothers me to get involved, I feel compelled to protect her. I just don’t know how. I have no idea how to fix a situation that got out of control because I couldn’t keep it in my pants long enough to finish the tour. I don’t regret sleeping with her, and it’s not just the sex; I miss everything about Lilly right now, including holding her close when she falls asleep on my shoulder.

“How’s she doing?” I ask.

“Why don’t you go ask her yourself, and maybe even apologize?”

I’ve been up all night thinking about what I want to say to her, but I couldn’t find anything sensible that would make up for my behavior yesterday. How do you apologize for being a jerk? Sure, I could just go up to her and say, “I’m sorry I was a jerk,” but I couldn’t bear seeing all that anger, disappointment, and sadness in her eyes. I grab my cup of coffee and slip back into my room.

Twitter @damian4ever:

We all knew that they won the contest just because she spread her legs. Now you’re surprised?

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