I was foolish to fall in love with a man I had no business even looking at.
It had been wishful thinking that made me see similarities where there were none.
His talents have been honed, mine just indulged. I was flattered by his attention and completely forgot the order of the universe.
But who could blame me? He looked me in the eye and said he loved me. He left a piece of himself in the body he used and discarded, and because of him I’m facing decisions I’m not sure I'm equipped to make.
I catch a glimpse of my phone on my bedside and reach for it. If Jude was here she’d tell me not to do this. But she’s not, and I’m angrier than I ever remember being.
If I had everything he did—a family who loved me, nurtured and helped direct my talent—I wouldn’t go around breaking hearts for sport.
If he were here, I’d shoot him in the nuts and leave him as hopeless and empty as he's left me.
But he’s off living his rock star life. So, I’ll have to settle for having the last word. I type out everything I need to say, and press send. Then, I block his number, delete the contact and press the call button for the nurse's station and ask for Dr. Appiah.
Carter
Back Where I Started
“I think you paid already, man.” The delivery driver holds up the twenty- dollar bill I shoved into his hand when he handed me my food.
“Oh, keep it anyway.” He grins and is still waving when I close the door.
Less than two hours after I landed, I’ve poured myself a beer and scarfed down my beef Pad Kee Mao, the year- long vegan and alcohol- free diet I adopted when I was in LA, discarded as easily as the jeans I took off as soon as I walked through the door.
For the last three months I worked out every day, ate a protein heavy vegan diet prepared by a private chef my label hired. I learned to appreciate the dignified high that came courtesy of edible marijuana and even stopped drinking.
My dad was right. When I got to LA and began working with the band Scope records put together, my life took off in ways I hadn’t ever imagined.
It was a blur of jam-packed eighteen-hour days. The only time I was alone was when I was asleep. In between the countless photoshoots, interviews, appearances, rehearsals, and recorded sessions, I fucked.
Ready, willing and whenever you wanted it sex was one of the trappings of being a musician that’s even relatively famous. I went from being able to count my lovers on one hand to not even bothering to keep track. By the time we wrapped our album, it felt like Beth was out of my system.
But, back in my apartment and with only my thoughts and memories for company, Beth is all I can think about. And the text message she sent me this week. I rummage through my backpack, pull my phone out, and scroll until I find it.
The first message was a link to a clip of the interview I’d done. I’d avoided watching the playback, but figured it couldn’t hurt to take a look after all this time. I’d been wrong. I remember waiting for the question I knew was coming – and how eager I was to say the words I knew would make everyone else laugh, and her sorry. “No, the song isn’t about anyone. I’ve never been in love. But the beautiful women in this city make me think my luck is about to change.”
The text she wrote below the video made it clear my words had hit their target.
I can’t wait for you to wake up one day and realize what you lost when you lost me. I hope you choke on your regret. I hope the aftertaste of your lies tastes like shit and lasts forever. Fuck you, Carter.
She always had a flair for curses she saved for moments where she was righteously angry. They used to make me laugh and pity the object of her ire. But having that palpable anger directed at me was different.
I’d relished imagining how stupid she’d feel when she heard me say I’d played her as false as she played me. I thought knowing she’d seen it would give me a sort of closure. Instead, I was confused. Why was she angry when she