The laughter dwindled away into silence. Heavy, heavy silence.
“So why aren’t you sleeping? You’re not that much of a night owl,” Gracie observed. I sighed and leaned back on the couch, covering my eyes with my arm. My head was starting to pound and I didn’t feel so hot now that the booze was working its way out of my system.
“I’ve got a lot on my mind,” I told her.
“Like what?”
You.
I thought it but I didn’t say it, thank god. I guess I still had some sort of a filter.
“Is it the band?” she asked and I found my way out. I could tell her something that was sort of true. Because yeah, that was on my mind too.
“I think Generation Rejects are done. And I’m kind of glad,” I admitted quietly. Only to her. It was easy to give her my confidences. My secrets.
“Why? You love music,” she said, sounding surprised.
I dropped my arm to my side and stared up at the cracked tile in Garrett’s ceiling. Was it moving? I closed my eyes, feeling the room start to spin.
“I do. I really do, G, but I miss playing just for me. Not for a label or so an album will sell. I can’t find the passion for it anymore and that scares me.” Why was I telling her this? We were way past that point in our relationship where I could give her my truths.
But I wanted her to have them. I needed her to have them.
They were tiny parts of me I could give her without crumpling.
“Then you have to find your heart in it again,” she said softly. “You have to rediscover that place where you can enjoy playing. Where it’s only for you. And if that means taking a step back and doing something else in the meantime, then do it. You’re a smart guy. There’s more out there for you than just being Generation Rejects’ bassist.”
I held onto her voice like a lifeline. Everything around me was wobbly. My heartbeat was too fast but she was keeping me still.
“What if there isn’t? What if I’m washed up at twenty-five?”
Gracie laughed. “Don’t be silly, Mitch.” God, I loved it when she said my name. “You need to stop being so pessimistic. I think it might be the beer talking.”
“Hey! I’m not drunk!” I denied.
“And I’m the Queen of England,” she stated drolly.
“Well, howdy, your majesty,” I threw back at her.
“Seriously Mitch, if this falls apart and the band is no more, you’ll find something else. You’ll land on your feet. I promise you.”
She sounded so confident. So damn sure.
Why couldn’t I feel that?
“What am I going to do, Gracie?” I asked, my voice hushed as I gripped the phone so tightly against my ear, it made my hand ache. “What else am I even good at?”
“You’ll figure it out,” she said.
“And what if I can’t find it?” I sounded panicked. I couldn’t help it. I was ripping myself open for her to see.
Could she see how much I loved her?
Where the fuck had that come from?
It came from the deepest parts of me. Where she would always stay.
Damn, drunk Mitch was a total cheese ball.
“I’ll help you find it,” she swore and I let out a noisy breath.
“You promise?”
“I promise,” she replied.
“I’ve missed talking to you like this.” Deep breath. Don’t say it.
“Actually I miss everything about you.” Of course I said it. Stupid mouth to brain malfunction.
“I miss you too,” she murmured and I felt like I was falling off a really steep cliff. Gracie could make me feel so out of control.
And then I crashed to Earth.
There was a creak on the stairs and I looked up to see Sophie standing at the landing. “Who are you talking to? It’s late. You need to get some sleep,” she called down.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” I told her. Sophie stared at me for a moment longer and then turned and went back to my bedroom.
Gracie was quiet on the other end and I wondered if she had hung up.
“You still there?” I asked.
“Yeah. I’m here,” she said after a beat. “It sounds like you’re being summoned.” Her voice was tight, her earlier warmth gone.
“Gracie, I—” What was I going to say? I would never know because she didn’t let me finish.
“Thanks for the warning about Cole and Vivian. I’ll see you around.” She was cold. I could get frostbite from here.
“Sure thing. Thanks for the pep talk. See ya.”
I hung up. Before either of us could say anything else.
I sat there staring at nothing. My head full of her.
Then I climbed the stairs and went to my room. I got under the covers and lay next to my girlfriend.
And went to sleep hating myself.
I woke up grouchy. It was one of the worst nights sleep I could remember having in a long time.
And it had nothing to do with the crashing and moaning from Vivian’s room.
It had to do with Mitch and his stupid Chunky Monkey.
“Whoa. Who pissed in your cornflakes?” Vivian asked as I stomped into the kitchen, dressed and ready for work.
“Don’t talk. Give me coffee,” I ordered, holding out my hand. Vivian obliged by handing me a full mug. I sipped on it and felt a little more human.
“You look horrible. You should use some of my skin toner. The bags under your eyes are awful!” she exclaimed. Vivian of course looked perfect for having been up the entire night fucking her boyfriend.
“Well, I would have slept better if it wasn’t for the five rounds of sexylmpics you had going on in your bedroom,” I harrumphed, sitting down at the kitchen table and rubbing my temples.
“Are you sure it didn’t have anything to do with your late night phone call?” Vivian asked and I gaped at her.
“How in the world did you hear me on the phone when you had all that going on?” I waved my hand around.
Vivian rolled her eyes. “Who called then? There are only so many things a late night call can be about. A family tragedy, a drunk friend needing a ride home. Or a booty call. Given your general cranktastic demeanor, I would say the latter is off the table. So what was it? Is everything okay?”
“You forgot to add random drunk dialing to that list,” I said.
Vivian’s eyes widened. “Who drunk dialed you? Was it Mitch? Because he was pretty lit up when we left.”
I took another fortifying sip of coffee before answering her. “Give the lady a gold star.”
Vivian frowned. “But Sophie was there. What the hell is he playing?”
“Well she interrupted towards the end, telling him to come to bed. So I have no idea.”
Vivian pursed her lips together. “I don’t get you two. You fuck. You don’t talk. You have screaming fights. You avoid each other. You have late night phone calls. He goes back to his girlfriend. You are one messed up pair.”
“Says the woman who used to cat fight for her man’s attention,” I snapped.
Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well I grew up. I figured out that wasn’t a good way to be. I got honest with my feelings and stopped being a moron. Maybe you should take a leaf out of the Vivian Baily guide to men.”
“He’s with Sophie—”
“And he’s calling you at two in the morning. The both of you need to sort your shit out once and for all. We’re all a little tired of the yo-yo.”
I drew myself upright. “I’m so sorry that my love life isn’t going the way you think it should be!” I lowered my voice when I realized I was getting loud. “But things with Mitch have never been simple. We’ve always had really bad timing. Maybe we’re just not meant to synch up.”
“What’s so complicated about it? It seems pretty straightforward to me. He’s butt hurt because you ran out after screwing him. You have your nose out of joint because he rebounded with another girl. But at the end of the day he loves you. You love him. End of discussion.”