Page 68 of See Her

33

MAYZIE

Did I mention this sucks? The next couple of weeks are painful and lonely.As promised, Jack calls me every day when he wakes up, which is usually late morning. Some days it’s even noon with the hours they’re keeping.Our conversations are always the same: I miss you, wish you were here, wish I was there, etc.

Some mornings I wake up and just lay there for a while, trying to psyche myself up to shower and get my day started.

I go through the motions, doing yoga, writing, and going to the dance studio a lot.It is good to be back to hanging out with Annie, and I eat that up. The girl never fails to make me laugh and show me a good time. It helps the time go by, too.

Jack always tries to FaceTime me in that pocket of time between sound check and the show. Sometimes, he literally only has two minutes because the managers have packed that time with meet-and-greets or interviews, but he does it anyway, and it’s good. I always try to smile for him, even when it’s a phone call instead of FaceTime. Even when it’s a call with bad news…

I sit here on the edge of my bed, flipping my phone over and over in my hands, trying to ward off the heaviness trying to consume me. I look to the photo of my wedding day that sits on the bedside table, trying to reaffirm to myself that this is the real deal; real love. I have to keep pushing.

My phone rings in my hands, making me jump, and I feel a tiny, traitorous zing of hope at the idea it’s Jack calling me back to tell me that he was mistaken – that he and the guys will be back in two weeks as originally planned.

I don’t mean to sound so bummed about seeing Annie’s name before I answer, but it’s hard to help, especially only moments after my emotional FaceTime with Jack.

“Hey,” I mumble in greeting.

“Wow, you sound spritely,” her tone deadpans on the other end.

“Jack just told me the tour is going so well that they’ve added them to the next leg,” I confide, feeling miserable.

“Oh, God.” Her voice drops on the other end and I can hear it switch from cynical to compassionate. “Aw, babe, I’m sorry. It’s… kinda good though, right?”

“It is,” I concede. “It’s really good. It means more followers and more exposure, and…” I trail off as I shake my head at myself. I’m being a baby over my husband’s success. I’m being a fucking needy-ass, whiney wife, because I miss him. “It’s just incredible, and I can’t believe it,” I finish, amending where my words were actually going.

“It’s okay to be upset because you miss him,” she gently prods.

“Yeah… it’s going to be six more weeks now instead of two,” I reveal on a heavy sigh.

I’m met with silence on the other end for a few beats, but I swear I hear the wheels turning in her brain.

“We’re going out tonight,” she finally declares.

For a moment, I want to resist; to just tell her I’m going to snuggle down in my bed and watch stupid movies, but what the hell am I going to do with the rest of the next few weeks? I can’t just hole up as much as I might want to at the moment, I’ll go insane, and Jack will come back to a miserable, sad sack who can only exist when he’s around.

No. Jack deserves better, and so the fuck do I.

“Where?” I finally breathe into the phone and attempt a faint smile, even if it’s only for myself.

Jack

I’m shoutinginto the mic up on Dallas’s stage, playing like it’s the last time that I ever will. Mayzie dances her cute ass off to deal with her emotions; I seem to be taking mine onto the stage with me, every show, to play through it. It’s therapeutic getting the crowd revved up, seeing them respond to the notes I’m playing and the words I’m singing.It’s a rush, and it gives me the boost I need to get through to the next day.

Since Mayzie left, I’ve been trying to focus on all the necessary aspects of doing this tour.I smile at interviews, I’m early for sound checks, and I practice with any of the guys whenever they feel like we need to. My head and my heart are not completely in it, but I’m trying. At the very least, I’m faking it well.And as shitty as I’m feeling with missing her, it’s giving me something to write. I have a feeling a seriously angsty, depressing, but relatable song is going to come out of this. The shows are the one place I don’t have to put on a brave face, though. No trying or pretending about it, I’m one hundred percent real and giving it my all when I’m up on stage, with Mayzie’s thin, black hair tie on my wrist, reminding me to keep going. She didn’t do what she did so I could half-ass this.

I’m going at it extra hard tonight because we just found out the label extended our leg by a month. My emotions are at war with each other inside me, causing a serious storm to brew. On one hand, I’m fucking pumped that the band is doing that well. The extension means big things, and it’s so gratifying to know that we could actually get somewhere with this, especially after all this time.But you know damn well what else it means, and that reality is hard to take.I called Mayzie earlier and broke the news, and she was happy for the band, but I could feel her through the phone, and I know it was hard for her to hear in the same way it was for me.She’s feeling the same kind of torn.

And while I’m unleashing my demons here on stage and the crowd is totally eating it up, it’s not my best. I’m struggling with a malfunctioning inner ear monitor, causing my voice to go off pitch a few times, and I mess up a couple of chords.The fans don’t seem to notice, but I do, and it sets me on edge. The damn thing was working fine at sound check, but it’s fucking me up right now.

After our set, I storm off the stage and head to the showers.When I’m out, I try to call Mayzie. Our conversation was a little rushed earlier as it was a few minutes before the show, and I told her I wanted to talk more about the tour extension after we were done. I send her a FaceTime request that goes unanswered, which only further exacerbates my already unpleasant demeanor.She knew I was going to get a hold of her, so where the hell is she? We really need to talk about things, communicate, even if it’s just to express how we’re feeling. George and Erin have told me this several times.It’s been almost two weeks without her, and I’m going crazy.I’ve been giving the band everything I have, I’ve been seriously trying to anyway, but I’m reaching a point where I feel like something’s got to give.After taking some time to brood and stew over things, I decide to head to the after party and make my way to the SUVs. It’s not sounding like my idea of a good time right now, but I just don’t know what else to do with myself.

The elevator doors part and I stride through the vestibule to the already open French doors leading into the penthouse, to find a crazy after party already in full swing. Just like every other one we’ve showed up to after a show, it’s already chock full of half-wasted fans,as if they’ve been waiting for us here all night. Well… for The Shock Wave anyway.

I take a few deliberate strides into the loud and flashy room, intent on finding the bar so I can drown my sorrows, but don’t get far when a blonde blur crashes into me, spilling the pink liquid of whatever was in her glass at our feet.

“Oops.” She stumbles back while I look down to see if any of her drink got anywhere on me. When I’m satisfied that I’m not going to smell like a Cosmo for the rest of the night, I look up to find the blonde still in front of me in a short black dress, with pink streaks in her hair. “I’m so sorry…” The words drone out slowly. She’s obviously lit.

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