Oh my God… the photo is from that after party and I’m the girl in it. Clearly, I was close to my drink limit, as I’m curled into Jack and my hair is covering the part of my face not buried in his chest, but Ho-lee shiiiit…
I knew Jack was telling the truth about that last incriminating photo, but this is hard proof in front of my face that paps lie, and it just makes the reality resound harder through my mind, hitting home. They really will do anything for a headline or click-bait.
I scoff, shaking my head as I proceed to read whatever bullshit they have to say.
Though he has claimed in recent interviews to be married, last night after Turn it Up’s set in Baton Rouge, Krasinski was seen tearing it up at the after party, drinking copious amounts of alcohol and draping himself over countless women.Word has it, last week’s antics caused trouble between him and the Mrs., and the front man has been having a hard time coping.A source tells us his band mates are concerned, and that this could lead to the band’s crash and burn when their plane is barely off the ground.
Wow.
I exit out of the screen before reading more. It’s ridiculous, and I don’t need to read more crap. Instead, I go to a local Baton Rouge news site to read a review on the band.There’s an amazing picture attached to a glowing recap of last night’s performance.The energy radiates from the posted picture; all the guys are whipping their hair, their muscles flexed, as they play their asses off.My heart squeezes at all of the writer’s words that are nothing but positive.Words likerocked, inspired, andadrenalized,are dispersed throughout the article. I smile to myself, allowing this news to wipe out what I read before.
When I exit out of the browser and look at my social media, I’m irritated to find that The Scope’s story is trending and spreading.Hundreds of thousands of no-name losers are apparently eating this bullshit up and sharing it all over. The story isn’t even true, and yet so many people without lives of their own want to believe it is, and are pouring over it during their morning coffee.
I close out of my accounts and get up to pour another cup of caffeinated goodness for myself.This is one of the things Erin warned me about, that comes part and parcel with this life.I hate that this is one of the components of a new normal, but Turn it Up only keeps rising, and it’s a strong possibility it will only get more intense and more frequent.She and George have been through a lot and still love each other fiercely, and they face the adversity as a team.I know that’s what Jack and I need to do, and wecando it, by ignoring those that try to bring us down and listening to no one but each other.
I take my cup to the living room and roll out my yoga mat.I sit down and rest my hands on my knees, taking a few moments to do some meditative breathing and continue while moving into some relaxing poses, gradually working my way into a full balancing routine of strengthening poses and gratifying stretches.
When I feel relaxed and level, I head back to my laptop and get to work.I have two pieces I want to complete before I’m busy traveling tomorrow, and decide that the joy of packing will be my reward for finishing them.The knowledge that I will be with my husband tomorrow is more than enough motivation, and I power through. By three o’ clock, I’ve submitted my work and can go without working for the next two days.With a feeling of immense satisfaction and anticipation, I head to the bedroom and pull out my suitcase.As I start packing, I feel elation spread through me. I’m strong, so is Jack, and so isour marriage, and no dipshit reporter is going to take that away.
Jack
“Jack Krasinski messes up again!”
“Turn it Up’s front man goes off the Deep End!”
“Jack can’t stop partying!”
These bullshit headlines are all over my phone’s screen, and apparently it stemmed from a story claiming I was out last night, whooping it up like a frat boy in Baton Rouge.The photo of me and the groupie was one thing, but for the tabloids to go out and write a horseshit story out of nothing but the leftover scraps from the one written last week? That just shows how desperate a rag can be to sell gossip.The sad part is it’s trending, which means the public is jumping all over it.Surely Mayzie has heard this, but she hasn’t contacted me at all.I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but she knows what I was doing last night; I was spending time with her.We arrived in Tampa a couple of hours ago, and I sent her a text letting her know. I’m alone on the bus and we’re not due for our sound check for twenty minutes, so I decide to give her a call. She picks up on the first ring.
“Hi, baby,” I hear her voice answer cheerfully, like she hasn’t had anything negatively affect her today.
“Hey. You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“I thought maybe you’d seen that new story trending about me.”
“Oh yeah,” she says cynically, “I did. The desperation is sad.”
“Hell yeah, it is.But you’re okay?” I feel the need to make sure nothing upsets her, or keeps her from getting down here.
“Well, I was annoyed at first, sure. It’s a load of fucking bullshit. Did you see the one with the photo where they claim you’re hanging all over some random, but it’s actuallyme?”
“Are you shitting me?” I guffaw. I hadn’t seen that yet.
“Yeah. Proof that they will fabricate what they can. But as long as we’re in this industry, living this life, this is going to happen. And with the way you guys are blowing up, I think we can bet on it being a regular thing, so we have to learn to shrug it off.” I love how much she said the wordwe.
Shaking my head at the wonder of this woman, I follow her lead and change the subject.
“What are you doing? Are you packing? You’d better be packing, woman,” I tease.
“I’m paaacking,” she practically sings. I love it.
“Yeah! I’m going to see my girl soon! When’s your flight?”
“At the ass crack of dawn tomorrow morning.”
“You’ll probably beat us to Miami then. You have the hotel information?”