It was a half-body shot from the h*ps up, guitar in my hands, the mic in front of me, my head tilted down and to the side to look at my guitar, a smal smile on my face. The photo was taken at a gig that I suspected (from the t-shirt I had on, which I hadn’t worn in ages) was at least a year ago.
Next to my photo was the same size picture of a younger-looking Mace at the bottom of a snowy mountain in ful -snowboarder gear, hair tousled and wet with sweat, board under his arm, other photographers surrounding him, he was ignoring them and caught on the move by the cameras.
The headline read, Local Celebrities under Fire.
“Effing hel ,” I breathed right when the phone rang.
“Damn it,” Mace muttered, tossing the paper on the counter and reaching up to the ledge where I kept my phone. He put it to his ear and barked, “What?” I was too much in a dither to mind Mace being rude while answering my phone. I was focused on being front page news and being referred to as a “celebrity”.
I knew Mace had been famous but when did I become a celebrity?
“She has no comment,” Mace said into the phone, hesitated then continued, “I have no comment either,” then he beeped it off and put it on the counter.
I stared at him a beat, letting the words “no comment” permeate my stunned brain and with effort came unstuck, handed the empty pot to Mace and snatched the paper off the counter.
I was beginning to feel weird. Way weird. Panic weird. I didn’t know why but it didn’t feel good.
“Stel a…” Mace started to say but I wasn’t listening.
I wandered out of the kitchen area. Juno got close and gave a little whine.
“In a minute, Juno,” I mumbled, my eyes scanning the page.
“I’l take the dog out.” I heard Hector say but I didn’t pay attention.
I arrived at the end of the bed platform and sat. I no sooner got my ass on the platform when the paper was sooner got my ass on the platform when the paper was snatched from my hands before I’d been able to read a single word.
My head snapped up.
“Hey! I was reading that,” I semi-lied to Mace who was standing over me.
The door closed behind Hector and Juno.
“Fuck it, Stel a. We need to stay focused,” Mace replied.
I stood. ‘Focused on what?”
When I stood, it brought me close to Mace. He didn’t move out of my space, just kept looking down at me.
“Focused on what’s important,” he answered calmly.
“Being front page news isn’t important?” I retorted, not calm at al .
I’d never been front page news. I didn’t know how it made me feel. It was both weirdly thril ing and scary-as-shit.
But also that strange panic was stil encroaching. I stil didn’t get it and I didn’t want to. I had enough to panic about as it was.
“No,” Mace broke into my thoughts.
“Then what’s important?”
“Keepin’ you alive. Workin’ out our shit. Movin’ on together. That’s what’s important.”
I shook my head at his words, not awake enough or together enough after last night’s drama and this morning’s position on page one to go there.
I changed subjects. “Who was on the phone?”
“Doesn’t matter.”