White Trash Damaged

14

IT HAD BEEN two weeks since I had made contact with my father, and I had called him four times since our initial conversation. Tucker was apprehensive about me letting him back in my life, but I began to make plans to take a trip to New Orleans for a visit. The band would be busy with new interviews that Donna had lined up, starting with a television interview on the local news channel in Ellisburg. As cruel as she behaved toward me, even I could see how good she had been for the band in the short time she had been with them. Today was proof of that.

I was incredibly excited to see Tucker on television. It wasn’t the first time, but when I had seen him before, it was while we were separated. Back then it had broken my heart seeing him and knowing he was so far away.

“We should go out for drinks. Have girl’s time after this.” Sarah propped herself up on her elbows as we kept our eyes glued to the small flat-screen in the front of the bus.

I nodded as the show began and the butterflies in my belly took flight. The newscaster was talking about Damaged and showing pictures of the band. I squealed when the camera panned out and the guys sat on a couch next to her.

“They look so good!” I clutched my heart necklace that dangled from my neck. She began her interview asking about tour dates and how they liked life on the road, how well they all got along and all of the other mundane questions that were standard in these interviews.

“We’re like brothers. We fight from time to time, but five minutes later it’s like it never happened.” Tucker took a sip from a glass of water that sat on the small table in front of him.

“Rumor has it you boys will be playing at the Video Music Awards in a few weeks. What have you been doing to prepare for a show like that?” the woman asked.

“We have been rehearsing, just like we do for all of our shows. But the stakes are higher for this gig, for sure. Definitely more nerve-racking.” Tucker grinned, and the girls in the audience went crazy.

“I’m sure it’s like riding a bike for you by now. Your touring schedule has been hectic. That must make it difficult to maintain any sense of normalcy . . . or relations outside of the band.”

Tucker’s eyes darted off to the left, and I knew he was looking for Donna. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat before picking up his water and taking another sip.

“Of course it makes it harder, but like any relationship, if you want it to work, you have to be willing to make the time for it.” His eyes went to the camera, and I felt like he was staring directly at me. He had just admitted, sort of, that he was with someone, and my heart began to flutter as I raised up on my knees and clutched my arms around myself. It would be major for him to proclaim his love for me to the world, and I didn’t realize how important that was to me until this moment. Most celebrities tried to keep those details private, but after my ambush interview, the cat was let out of the bag. Tucker was told not to confirm or deny his involvement with me, to keep his female admirers happy. I understood, but it definitely hurt.

“Like many singers, most of your songs come from life experiences. What can you tell me about ‘Empty Sheets’?”

Tucker paused and waited for the fans in the audience to quiet down before answering.

“It’s obviously about someone who had gone through a very tough relationship, and I think a lot of people can really relate to it. Everyone has been hurt or felt alone at some point in their lives,” he answered.

“It is heartbreakingly beautiful. You’re a very gifted songwriter.”

“Thank you.” Tucker ran his hand from the back of his hair to the front.

“Did he just . . .” Sarah sat up and pointed to the television.

“I don’t know.” I grabbed the remote and turned off the television as the interview ended, in shock that Tucker seemed to be taking credit for my words. My intensely personal words. This was the only thing in the world that was mine, that I could lay claim to and take some pride in, and just like that it was taken from me.

“I’m sure he was told to say that.”

“It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have.” I pushed to my feet and began pacing the floor as I chewed angrily on my lower lip. “I think I’ll take you up on that drink now.”

I didn’t waste any time getting off that bus. I felt like I was drowning inside of that closed-off space that not long ago I actually considered home.

“It’s Donna. She is slowly trying to put herself in the middle of my relationship,” I said as we went inside the bar.

“She can’t come between the two of you unless you let her.”

“Trust me. I am not.” I slid onto the bar stool and Sarah took a seat next to me, holding up a hand to signal the bartender.

“Maybe not you . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“She’s been pulling us apart from day one, but this is different. Those songs are my heart and soul. It is the only thing I have of my own.”

“Two shots of Jack,” she told the bartender who flipped his cleaning rag over his shoulder and went to work at pouring our drinks. “I want to hire you.” She turned to face me.

“Hire me for what?” I drank back my whiskey, wincing as it burned my throat.

“You’re an amazing writer, and we could use some fresh material.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I felt like selling my songs to someone else would be like cheating on Tucker. As much as he had hurt me, I didn’t want to go behind his back.

“You don’t want to follow your dreams and see where they take you?”

“I don’t know what I want anymore. I never really had a dream outside of escaping my old life. I didn’t know I was good at anything.”

“You have talent, that’s for sure. But is it what you want out of life?”

“I enjoy writing and it helps me work through all of my issues. It would be incredible to be able to do that for a living.”

“Then you need to make it happen. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself to do that. Not even Tucker, no matter how close you are.”

After a few more drinks Sarah had to get ready for the concert tonight. I didn’t feel like watching the band perform. I was always a few feet from Tucker, but it might as well have been thousands of miles. When he was onstage he was a product, an object that belonged to the masses. It didn’t used to feel that way, but ever since Donna had taken over as manager, things had changed. I bit my tongue because I knew that was what was best for the band, but what I wanted was what was best for Tucker. I wasn’t sure what that was anymore.

“I’m gonna take a walk, clear my head.”

“Don’t get lost. Concert starts at eight,” Sarah replied.

I nodded, not wanting to tell her I didn’t think I could handle watching Tucker perform tonight. I needed a break. I watched Sarah leave and waited a few minutes before stepping outside and figuring out where I was going to go from here.

I decided to go see a movie instead. It was such a normal mundane thing, but it was a luxury for me. I hadn’t been able to afford things like that most of my life, and now I just didn’t have the time, even though I felt like ninety percent of my day was spent sitting and waiting.

I headed for the large theater across the highway and purchased a ticket for Halftime, a new comedy that I had heard nothing about since we rarely watched television. It didn’t matter. I just needed to do something fun on my own for once. I couldn’t let my happiness be determined by others any longer.

The film dragged on, and I spent more time watching a group of college friends laugh and make fun of each other than I did watching the movie.

After the last of the credits rolled up the screen and the lights to the theater came back on, I decided I had been gone long enough.

My mood had lightened a little and it felt good to collect my thoughts instead of going with my normal instinct to flee. Even with all that was going on, it gave me hope that I was finally growing as a person. In my mind I began laying out a calm, levelheaded way to approach Tucker.

All feelings of contentment left as I approached the bus. I could see Tucker pacing back and forth in front of the door. When he spotted me he began to walk toward me and it was obvious he was not happy.

“I have been searching everywhere for you. I was worried sick. I thought . . .” Tucker cut off his own thoughts as the muscles in his jaw ticked under his skin.

“It’s a little too late to be worried about me,” I spat back angrily, my hands on my hips. So much for keeping a level head and talking this out like adults.

“I missed a concert! Do you have any idea how pissed everyone is at me right now?”

I took a step forward, staring him dead in the eye.

“Do you have any idea how pissed I am at you right now?” I spat.

“You’re mad at me?” He had the nerve to look offended, and I wanted to scream. He really had no clue how badly he had hurt me. “This is my career, Cass. You told me not to give up on it, and now you’re doing your best to destroy it.”

I took a step back. It felt like I had been physically punched in the gut. His words ripped through me. I was Tucker’s biggest supporter.

“What about me, Tucker? What about my dreams?” I had finally found something I was good at and I loved to do, and it got swept under the giant rug that was Tucker’s fame. I couldn’t handle it anymore. I needed to have my own identity.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Writing that poem . . . that song . . . was the one thing I had done for me since I joined you on tour. It was mine. I had created something I was incredibly proud of, and you took credit for it like it meant nothing at all.” I knew I was overreacting, but I felt like I was slipping away. I couldn’t stand in the shadows of his career anymore. I was getting lost in the dark.

“Cass, our fans don’t want to know that I have a girlfriend. They don’t want to know that I am singing songs that I didn’t write myself.”

“Well, someone has been spending too much time with Donna.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Don’t do that. You know that this band is important to me.”

“I used to be important to you, too. What happened to that?” I asked as I took off around him, walking as fast as I could to the bus door. I yanked it open, unable to look at him as the tears threatened to spill over. I felt like a jerk. I didn’t want him to agonize over choosing between me and his band. I wanted the choice to be obvious. I wanted him to stand up for me. I didn’t want to be his dirty little secret.