See Her (Turn it Up #1)

Chapter 35

35

MAYZIE

J ack from Turn it Up, tucking me in last night…

Same picture from this morning, only it’s now been snagged and reposted by the actual girl that’s in it.

@VIPdiva94 is her handle, and her lovely caption makes me want to reach through the screen and throat punch her.

I bow my head into my hands and rub my eyes, hoping to push back another round of tears that are trying to break through my steel barrier.

Crying, to me, is like quicksand. I’m always afraid to start, thinking I’ll never be able to stop.

It’s just after one in the afternoon. I spent the forty minutes after seeing that wretched picture in the shower, followed by sitting on the bed and staring off into space.When I couldn’t take any more of that, I took the dogs on an extra-long walk.

And now I seem to have shifted into playing detective, and I have fallen down the goddamned rabbit hole.

I committed the cardinal sin of Googling Jack, Turn it Up, Dallas, after party… anything you could think of to see what other puzzle pieces I can find from last night; any that will give me some hope that I haven’t fallen victim to the married to a rock star cliché. I find very few that offer me anything of the sort. There are a few that Jack is in that are clearly in the actual party atmosphere, and Josh is not far away in most of them. I can’t decide how that makes me feel. My takeaway on the day I left was that Josh wanted Jack un-attached so they could soak up the rock god life at parties together, like they appear to be in these pictures… maybe… I don’t know.

I close my laptop lid and rub a hand over my forehead before resting my chin on both hands.

Jack tried to call last night, I remind myself. And then what? When he couldn’t get a hold of me thought he might as well go live it up?

Oh my God, I’m so confused as I dissect everything I saw in that photo, and combine it with everything I know from last night.

Judging by the time of the missed call, it was sometime between the concert and the after party. He said he wanted to talk things out, sounding like that was his priority of the night. His voice was so tender, and he called me sweetheart. Could he really go from that to following a random girl to her hotel room?

Every beat of my heart tells me there’s no way in hell; not my Jack. It’s my traitorous brain that’s reminding me that though I love him more than I thought I could possibly love anyone. I had no idea there was even anyone like him in the world only a couple of short months ago.

Do I believe Jack would actually cheat on me? Of course I don’t. But could is another story. With enough drinks in him, I don’t know what he’s capable of in that alternate universe of high rolling debauchery.

My mind is in chaos right now, and while I need answers, I’m not sure I’m in the right headspace to receive them at this point. My moment of vindictive immaturity is over, and I want to turn my phone back on and call Jack, but I don’t know if I’m ready to hear what he has to say without scrutinizing everything from whether his story lines up, to the tone of his voice… I’m just not ready to hear what I don’t want to hear. I’m freaking out and I need to clear my head.

I may not have known you long, but I know you well… and I love you hard.

That was what Jack said to me once. And he does know me well, because I let him. I opened myself completely to him and let him all the way in. He did the same for me, but when he did, did I really dig deep and see him the way he sees me? Or was I just too damn busy falling in love with him?

Suddenly, I know what I need at this moment; the very same thing I needed to do the last time things were hard between Jack and me.

I need to dance and sweat every toxic molecule out of my body to get my head back on straight.

I burst through the door of Studio #1, throw my bag down and sync my phone to the sound system.With my hard rock playlist on shuffle, I take a drink of water from my bottle and do a few stretches, but not nearly enough as I should.I just want to get moving.

Lucky for me, the first song is one with a heavy hitting bass beat that pulses through my body, and it starts moving almost of its own accord. I throw myself into the dancing, trying to let everything else fade away. But it won’t. Images and feelings are floating through my head.

I lose track of time as I tear around the studio, moving as hard as I can to the music, trying to outrun these thoughts and feelings.I put as much force as I can into my turns and spins, moving furiously across the hardwood, trying to escape the monsters.I’m just coming out of a pirouette when my foot slips, and I fall to my hands and knees.Instead of getting right back up like I normally would, I stay there like that, examining the grain in the wood floor like it has all the answers. The music switches over to a slower song, and I give up. I gently lay my forehead on the floor and let the tears come.

I’m consumed with thoughts of all the things I miss about Jack. His scent, his hair in his eyes, the way he comes up behind me and puts his arms around me.And then there’s that stupid fucking picture. The dark feelings twist inside me again, and I think that may be another real reason I haven’t called him. I don’t only want answers from him, I want his comfort. And now that I’ve seen the real possibility of that being taken away, I don’t want to succumb to it.

I can feel the sobs coming up my throat as the pain slowly creeps over me like a dark shadow.I let it.I let these God-awful feelings come over me, and I surrender to them. I’m heartbroken. I’m lonely and I’m scared. It all enshrouds me, making my insides feel like they’re turning black.I let myself cry so hard, I feel like my heart might give out.

I’m not sure how much time passes, maybe a song or two, but the tears subside, my breathing returns to normal, and the darkness inside me evaporates into mist, until I feel nothing but empty.

I pull myself up off the floor, and stride lazily over to my things, ready to call it a day and go crawl under my blanket, when the music switches over to a song that never fails to stop my heart.

Jack’s hard, deliberate strumming sends tiny pulses of adrenaline shifting through my bloodstream. I pause my steps, my mission to shoot home forgotten. As drained as I feel, I can’t help but move to the beautifully genius notes.

Just one more song; this song.

Gone is the fierce aggression I was throwing around the studio before. This time, I just listen to Jack’s voice and dance naturally to every note and chord he pumps out into this masterpiece. As my body spins and sweeps across the floor, I feel my movements link together with Jack’s music. It’s so damn beautiful, and wh en it comes to an end, I still feel depleted, but somehow, not completely as destitute as before.

As I shut off the lights in the studio, I don’t know how or why, but I have a feeling deep down in my soul I’ll be okay.

Jack

How the fuck am I having marital problems only two months in?

Oh yeah, because my band got famous almost literally overnight, thrusting all of us and my wife into stardom. My every move is being watched and scrutinized, my schedule is demanding as fuck, and I’m thousands of miles away from my wife who I’m pretty sure thinks I’m cheating on her right now.

It’s late afternoon, and we’ve just finished the worst sound check of the tour. Everything was working fine, but every minute was painful. Every minute that goes by that I’m not talking to Mayzie pulls me down a little further.I kept my phone on me all through the check, and I yank it out of my back pocket now to find no notifications. I swear I can feel it laughing at me. Shut up, asshole . I make my way straight back to the bus, and I’m relieved to find it empty.

I spend the next I’m not sure how long alternating between picking at my guitar and fiddling with Mayzie’s hair tie around my wrist, trying not to glance at my phone every thirty seconds. I don’t know what’s killing me more – how much I’m hurting, or how worried I am that she is.

What’s going on in that pretty mind, pretty mind?

I need your voice, ‘cause I’m blin d

Locked in the dark

With a desperate heart

It beats and bleeds for you

Only you

Come let me out

And I will rid you of doubt

The impromptu lyrics seem to make Mayzie’s face materialize before me, and I drop my head back while I continue to strum out more notes. While I like to imagine her coming to me, touching me, and letting me know we’re okay, it only seems to torture me more.

Abruptly, I set my guitar down and don’t pick it up again until it’s time to stroll out onto the stage while tens of thousands of fans go wild. Matt makes pleasantries with the crowd while I busy myself giving my guitar a last tune, almost afraid to look up at the mass of exhilarated waving arms and screams. It almost makes me feel like they’re here in place of Mayzie. I’d make them all disappear to just have her here again.

And then, like every night since she left, I remind myself how important it is to her that I give this my best shot. I play and sing my heart out, shredding the shit out of my performance. Every ounce of pain and misery I’m feeling; the confusion and uncertainty. I let it all out into every word and chord, hoping somehow across the miles, it will reach her.