Finally, he pushes away from the mixing board and straightens. “You really did it, you little shits.”
A feeling of panic whirls up and I’m torn between wanting to face up and puke when a broad grin stretches across Treat’s face. “It’s fucking good.” He slaps me across the back hard enough that I sway.
Nick throws his sticks up in the air and Benjy slides off the chair onto the floor and buries his hands between his knees.
“Let’s get some backing vocals on tracks three, eight and ten and then send the thing off to be mastered.” He checks something on his phone. “It looks like my guy is busy until Thursday so you guys should take some time off and do something fun.” He glances around the room. “Maybe get some fresh air.”
As soon as he leaves, we start yelling. It’s a soundproof room and we need to let off steam. We play the album from start to finish--all ten songs--on repeat until Nick announces he’s hungry. At the apartment, we take turns showering. Nick goes first and when he’s done, he starts cooking. It’s just homemade spaghetti and meatballs, but it tastes better than anything we’ve eaten in weeks.
“You’re going to make someone a good husband,” I joke as I scrape my fork across the empty plate to scoop up the very last of the cheese and red sauce.
“I know. It’s because I’ve got a big dick,” he says.
“No. He’s talking about your cooking,” Benjy corrects.
“In the bedroom. The cooking I do in the bedroom. I mix the batter with my dick.” Nick stands up and makes swiveling motions with his hips, which causes Benjy to throw a wadded paper towel in Nick’s face. Nick retaliates by throwing the last of his water toward Benjy. Before a war can start, I step in between the two with my arm stretched out.
“As a reminder, anything you end up throwing we’re going to have to clean,” I remind the two.
Benjy heaves out a sigh and puts his can of beer back on the table. “Let’s get out of here,” he suggests.
“Sure,” I shrug. “Where?”
“I have an idea.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
Nick wiggles his eyebrows. “Leave it to me and my massive dick.”
“I don’t want anything to do with your dick,” I tell him.
“Same. Hard same from me,” Benjy chimes.
“Trust me!” Nick says.
We should not have trusted him. The outside of the establishment is harmless enough. It’s got an all brick front and no signage. It’s the no signage that is the dead giveaway. That and the endless stream of sausage walking through the entrance. It might as well have a neon sign that says strip club.
“No.” I turn back to get into the cab, but it’s already sped away.
“Come on, man. This will be fun. You don’t even have to touch. That costs extra. We’re just going to unwind.” Nick tries to cajole me.
“No.” I open my rideshare app.
“This isn’t a terrible idea,” Benjy says.
I glance at him over the edge of my phone. “Not you, too.” Is he still feeling the sting of rejection from the beach babes? “There’s gonna be so many girls after you once we go on tour,” l promise them.
“It’s not that.” Benjy shakes his head. “It’s unhealthy how you’ve just ignored the evidence that Cherry has moved on. She knew that telling you that you were breaking up wasn’t gonna work. You wouldn’t accept it. So she’s providing you visible evidence that she’s got a new life. And it doesn’t include you. I didn’t wanna say anything before because it sucks, but I think it’s just time for you to let her go. That’s what she wants.”
“No.” But even as I say the word, I realize I’m confirming Benjy‘s statement. No matter what Cherry said to me, I wouldn’t believe her. If she said she wanted to break up, I would assume that it’s because she thinks I want to break up or that the distance is too much for me to handle. Haven’t I told her time and again that she just needs to wait for me? I scrub my hand across my mouth. All I’ve ever wanted in this world is for Cherry to be happy, but what if her happiness includes a life without me? Is my love for her that real? I lick my suddenly very dry lips. “I still need the words.”
“Then ask her. You’ve been ignoring it for the past couple weeks. Straight-out ask her. Has she moved on?”
“And tell her you understand so she doesn’t feel like shit,” Nick adds.
So that’s what I do even though it makes me want to puke.
Cherry. I’ve seen some stuff from back home and it makes me think you are moving on from me. I just want to know if that’s how you really feel. Because I love you but I don’t want to hold you down. You should be happy. If you don’t want to come to LA. If you’re happy doing what you’re doing. Then I’m happy.
I stare at the message. I don’t want to send it. But if my selfishness is making her miserable, then that’s the wrong kind of love.
Chapter Twenty
Cherry
I stare down at the phone in shock. I push the pizza I’d been eating away, no longer hungry. He’s seen stuff from back home? What kind of stuff? What does that even mean? He’s been acting weird this past week. I thought maybe it was all the stress he was under to try to get the tracks down so I didn’t ask too much.
Then I thought it might have bothered him when I moved out into the trailer. He said it was a great idea but since then things have been different. I don’t know what has changed, but the space between us keeps growing. I keep trying to make the best decisions for the both of us, but it seems I’m only making things worse.
“What?” Brian snatches my phone out of my hand, reading the text.
“What the fuck does that mean? He doesn't have the balls to call you?” I open my mouth to defend Linc, but no words come out. Why didn't he call me? This is not something you discuss over a text. We’ve been through a lot of things together, and if he was feeling a certain type of way, he should have picked up the phone.
“Do you think it sounds like he thinks I’m cheating?” I ask Brian to make sure I’m not reading it wrong. I have to say the fact that he thinks I would do that to him burns my butt. I’ve been nothing but loyal and supportive of him and his career.
“This does not sound like the Linc you’re always telling me about.” He studies the phone. I’m guessing he’s reading the text again. He clicks on it.
“Don’t text him.” I try to grab the phone back from him. He steps back out of my reach.
“I’m not.” My phone vibrates in Brian’s hand, causing his whole face to turn angry.
“What? Is it from him? Did he say something else?”
“Cherry.” His voice is soft. It’s clear he doesn't want to tell me.
“What?” I ask again, causing him to turn the phone around. He clicks into Linc’s name and pulls up his location. “Is that--” I trail off not finishing my words. I shake my head no. There is no way that Linc would go to a strip club. That is so unlike him. But so was the text he sent. A deep sadness threatens to overtake me with the realization that maybe I don’t know what he’s like anymore. A knot forms in my stomach at that thought.