Page 68 of Backstage

The words hit me so hard that I start putting together pieces I missed, and the more I think about it, the more convinced I am that he’s not like that. “Damian’s not bad. He’s not like his father, no matter how little I know him, he’s not a person who could physically assault someone,” I say with conviction.

Thomas smiles and nods. “I know. I’m convinced of it, too. But even if he is not a bad guy, it takes him a lifetime to trust the people around him and realize that he could never hurt them. That’s why I’m asking you to be patient. Are you willing to wait for him? You really have no problem with him being in prison?” His question is as simple as a punch in the stomach.

In the last few days, I’ve been thinking a lot about Damian, how I feel about him. He’s not just some asshole who doesn’t give a shit about other people. I knew that before his confession, and then I got confirmation. And I got proof that I’m not capable of separating sex from emotions. He got under my skin and went straight to my heart. I feel tied to him, to his presence, to his person. I thought about prison, of course. Beyond my initial reaction, where it almost felt like he was talking about someone else, when the news settled in my head, I thought about the possible repercussions.

“I’d be telling you a lie if I said I didn’t think about juvie. I mean, it’s a fact serious enough to have consequences, even in relationships. But you managed to get out of it, make a career out of it. I’ve come to find that you are good people and decided that it’s not important to me. Or rather, it is important how you treat me right now, not how much you have done wrong in the past. You were given a second chance, and you used it to do the right thing and straighten your life out. You are to be admired, not condemned. To be fair, Brad has never been in prison, but he is still a disgusting person, which puts things into perspective. As for Damian...right now, I’d be willing to agree to sleep with him without any emotional complications just to be near him somehow...does that sound so desperate?” I ask with an embarrassed grimace.

Thomas smiles and shakes his head. “It sounds more like a person in love to me,” he whispers before looking up at Damian, who is approaching with a rugged look on his strained face.

My heart skips a beat when I see him, but when I lay eyes on Thomas, he smiles at me. He arranged this meeting, and I don’t know whether to thank him or punch him in the face.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Damian asks him without looking at me.

“I think she should give you your sweatshirt back,” Thomas says, getting up and then whispers in my ear, “I’ll wait for you at the bar with Max and Dave,” he puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes it lightly in a reassuring gesture.

Damian sits down and doesn’t say a word. We look at each other for a while in silence, him with a frown, me feeling my mouth parched, and the fear that if I start to talk, he might make a scene and leave.

“I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t even know why you and Thomas are here. Are you plotting behind my back?” His tone is gruff, clearly troubled and feeling ambushed.

I smile and nod my head. I sip my cappuccino and inhale deeply to sort out the overlapping ideas in my head. “No, no conspiracy, I was lured here under the guise of coffee too.” I smile at him and see that he relaxes a bit. “Damian, I know you’re avoiding me. Let me just say a few things, and then I promise I’ll give you your space.”

Damian nods, not saying a word, but at least he’s not leaving.

“I haven’t known you long. I never knew you before, when you were in prison, but one thing I’ve learned about you: you’re the kindest, most generous person I’ve ever met. You took our band under your wing, and you helped us. You grabbed me by the hand and accompanied me when I was terrified of my surroundings. You held my hair when I threw up in the bathroom because of the anxiety I felt. You even brought me a toothbrush and travel toothpaste so I could feel less embarrassed after I threw up.” I smile at the memory.

“You risked bringing on a lawsuit and going back to prison to save me from getting trampled by a crowd. You picked me up and carried me safely to the arena. You protect me from gossip, you protect me from paparazzi... I don’t know you, Damian, but I’m pretty sure that’s the behavior of a good person. It’s not the attitude of someone who would hurt a human being. We’re not our parents, Damian. We can learn from them, from their mistakes, even if they’re big, but we’re not them. We’re people who can separate good from evil, and you’ve proven you know how to do good every single day that you’ve stood by me. I don’t know you, Damian, but one thing I do know about you. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I finish in one breath, looking into his eyes and observing the waves of feelings that agitate him, though he remains motionless, with his elbow resting on the armchair and his hand over his mouth. I watch him as he contracts his jaw, while his breath becomes as thick and heavy as his emotions. I put my hand on his knee and squeeze lightly, feeling him stretching under my touch. I stand up feeling lighter, approach the bar, and join Thomas, who is studying me with some concern.

“Are you okay?” he asks me with one hand on my arm.

“Yes, will you walk me back to the bus, please?” I ask him, smiling, this time, more calmly than before. “I’ve given Damian enough to think about.”

“Are you coming with us to the gym?” Simon asks, dressed in his workout clothes, a towel, and a water bottle.

Ever since I started avoiding Lilly, I’ve been getting a lot of workouts in. I’ve practically been living inside the truck with the equipment. I’ve been consumed with the muscles under my skin and the constant thought of her tormenting me when I’m asleep and even when I’m awake. But yesterday, after what she told me over coffee, the honesty with which she spoke to me, my legs take me everywhere but the gym.

I don’t want to forget Lilly. I need, instead, to remember those words that somehow made me feel better. It doesn’t matter whether I believe the words, I’m always convinced that a part of me carries with it the rottenness that my father passed on to me. But the way she said them, the sincerity with which they came out of her lips have partly soothed those wounds that I’ve been carrying since that night.

“No, I think I’ll go for a walk.” I smile at him.

Simon looks at me for a few seconds, then shrugs and walks away with a smile. I know Thomas told Michael and Simon about what happened. We always worry about each other, and I know they understand that it’s a difficult time for me. I’m not as upbeat on this tour as I usually am, and I have to admit that Lilly makes a difference this time.

Without me realizing it, my legs have taken me to the Red Velvet Curtains’ bus, and I find myself knocking on the door without even knowing why. It’s Luke who opens up to me with a sleepy face and a surprised look.

“Can I help you?” he asks me when he sees I’m not saying a word.

What am I doing here? What the hell do I tell him? “Is Lilly here?” I ask finally, though I have no idea what to say to her.

I’m supposed to avoid her, not knock on her door to talk to her. I don’t even know about what...but maybe that’s the point, I just need to see her. I need to look at her like a junkie needs his fix. I’m beyond saving.

“Uh... no, she went out with Martin for a run.”

“For a run? How many times a day does she go running? I saw her go out last night at ten with her tracksuit on. It’s been how many hours since she got back? Seven?” I burst out, stunned.

Sure, for a simple friendship, like siblings, they spend a lot of time together. The jealousy grip on my stomach is an unpleasant sensation that bothers me. I’m not the jealous type, never.

Luke snickers, amused. “I don’t know, don’t ask me, man. I’ve known her all my life, and I’ll never fully understand what’s going on in her head. Every time I think I’ve got her figured out, one of her quirks leads me back to square one. Anyway, I think this whole media thing is making her a little insecure about her body. More than usual, at least. But I’m keeping an eye on her. I won’t let her go back to not eating for fear of getting fat.”

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