Page 69 of Backstage

I smile, glad she has someone who cares about her and who can recognize any signs of relapse on her part. “Okay, thank you.”

“I’ll tell her you came by if you want,” he suggests with a hopeful smile as if he wants to let her know I’ve tried a reconnection.

I can’t figure this guy out. Clearly, he’s very close to her. I think he wanted to smash my face in several times when I hurt Lilly. He’s not gay because I’ve seen him drooling over girls, but he seems immune to her charms. I should learn from him how to stand next to her without having a constant erection in my trousers.

“No, it’s okay. It was just some insignificant bullshit.” I minimize it and wave my hand like an idiot. I look like a kid making up excuses to see the little girl he likes. I walk away with Luke staring perplexedly at me from the open bus door.

“What the hell are you doing around there?” Thomas asks me. He is on his way back to our bus with a breakfast bag and a tray of four coffees in his hand.

“I went to look for Lilly, but Luke told me she went for a run with Martin,” I explain, although I am aware that this conversation will lead to more questions.

Thomas raises both eyebrows, puzzled. “I have no idea if I’m more shocked that you went looking for Lilly of your own free will or that she went running again. That girl runs more than a marathon runner in training.”

I burst out laughing and open the door and then give him room to come up and follow him inside for breakfast.

“What are you going to do about her?”

I shrug my shoulders and inhale deeply. “I don’t know, maybe I’ll start by apologizing to her, and then I’ll see what I can do from there. I’ve never been in a situation like this before, and I’m messing it up.”

Thomas laughs with gusto, but then he looks at me with the understanding frown of a brother.

“I’ve never had meaningful experiences with relationships, and I can’t tell you how to behave, but have a little faith in her. She’s a smart girl with a good head on her shoulders.”

That’s true, but in this story, I’m the real mess to clean up.

*

When Lilly told me she was gonna leave me alone, I didn’t think she’d literally disappear from my life. After the incursion on her bus this morning I didn’t see her, not at soundcheck, not even during lunch break or in the Red Velvet Curtains dressing room. The only time I laid eyes on her was when she came on stage, and there I was, in the wings behind the black curtains, like a fucking peeping tom spying on her. What hurts me the most, though, is that I only started breathing again when I laid eyes on her. At that moment, I realized how dependent I’ve become on that woman.

I’m so down at the thought of another twenty-four hours without seeing her again that I’m surprised, almost stunned, when I see her at the bar after the show. Tomorrow’s show is closer, so we don’t have to leave immediately like we usually do. We can relax for a bit with a beer and a chat without changing and being holed up on the bus heading to the next destination.

I smile when I lay my eyes on her and the Vans she’s wearing. She took off her heels the second after getting off the stage. She also took out her contact lenses and put on her glasses, which makes her look sexier than I remembered. Could she have gotten any prettier? Is it possible she’s laughing at Martin’s jokes and putting her hand on his arm so confidently? My anger starts to boil over.

“Come have a beer before you break the kid’s neck with your thoughts!” Michael’s voice calls me back to reality, and I walk the last steps to the bar without looking in their direction. I’m so stubborn and focused I don’t even notice the stool I knock over, which makes everyone turn around.

Grabbing the bottle Simon hands me, I whisper with exasperation, “I should be drinking bleach to forget rather than a beer.”

They both burst out laughing, and I can see they’re having a great time at my expense. Idiots.

“You’re the one who pushed her away. You can’t complain if she’s directed her attention elsewhere.” Michael challenges me with a raised eyebrow.

Does he really have to remind me of that every time the conversation turns to Lilly? “Big deal. If she likes a guy like Martin, it’s her problem. She’s laughing at his jokes, you know. Martin wouldn’t be funny if you painted his face like a clown,” I say sarcastically, and I realize I’m being ridiculous.

“Am I sensing some jealousy in your voice?” Simon stings me as we walk away from the bar and stand against the wall across from Lilly and Martin.

She looks so peaceful when she’s with him. She’s laughing, joking, she’s even resting her forehead on his chest now.

“I’m not jealous,” I say, even though I’m seething with anger.

Martin puts his hand on her hip, dangerously close to her butt, and I can’t take it anymore. With two long strides, I reach the two of them and grab his hand, shaking it so violently that the guy loses his balance and falls to the ground. I immediately regret it because as soon as I turn to leave with my tail between my legs, I find myself in front of a very angry Lilly, who punches me in the eye. I’m completely stunned, not because of the fist itself, she has the strength of a bird with those hands, but because of the gesture. I didn’t see it coming. Throwing a glance around the room, I discover everyone’s looking at me, shocked. No one’s ever seen me like this, and I’m deeply ashamed of myself.

I help Martin get up then go out to look for her. When I reach her, she is already near our buses, and I have to grab her wrist and turn her around to make her look at me.

“Forgive me,” are the only words that come out of my mouth.

“Forgive you? You knocked Martin down!”

“Because he was putting his hands on you!” My justification is so stupid I feel like an idiot.

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