20. Blurry – Tess
Oh, my God. What have I done?
How did I not think that post through? Not realize that the world of full of monsters with smart phones ready and willing to ruin anything decent. I know better. Hell, my job is to know better, and I just fucked it up in the grandest way possible.
As soon as Brad questioned it, I knew I’d misstepped. I was so caught up in his moment with Charlie, and filled with an emotion so wholesome and endearing, that I wanted to share it with the world. I wanted to show the universe what a great guy he truly is, what a wonderful dad he can be outside of the spotlight, how loving and patient he is with his daughter. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
But that was my mistake.
I made it personal. To me. And I know better than to let my personal feelings mix with my work. At least, I should. I’ve been at this long enough to know how this goes, what the reaction would be, what kind of nasty comments all posts get. I should have protected Charlie from that. I should have protected both of them.
I should have taken a beat before posting.
All regret is full of ‘could’ve, would’ve, should’ve,’ and mine is no different. It’s eating away at me as I watch Brad hang up his phone angrily and gather up Charlie to take her home early. She’s a little confused, at first, at the sudden change in schedule, but happily concedes after promises of ice cream.
“Is Tess coming with us?” she asks, innocently looking my way as they head toward the exit. The hopefulness in her eyes cuts into my soul. That disappointment I wanted to keep away from her is about to hit her head on, and I feel sick to my stomach knowing I’m the cause of it.
This isn’t how things are supposed to go.
“No,” Brad says sharply, his lips drawn in a flat line as he avoids my gaze while they walk. “She’s not.”
The finality of his words hurt. Deeply.
More than I expected them to.
And I can see the crash happen as it hits Charlie, but I can’t look away. It’s like watching a car accident in slow motion as her little brows furrow at her father’s tone and words. She’s trying desperately to adjust to the sudden shift in mood in the room and looking to me for answers.
I have none.
I have nothing.
I manage to force a weak smile on my face and wave to her as they rush out the door. The silence that falls over the room once they’re gone is heavy, and I look around to see everyone’s eyes on me. Questioning.
Rehearsal is apparently over.
How they know that Brad’s quick exit is my fault, I have no idea, but I have no words to offer anyone. I’m still processing everything that’s happened in the last five minutes, and it’s a jumbled mess.
In the matter of a heartbeat, I made a horrible professional judgment call, carved a gaping divide between myself and someone I was starting to really care about, and disappointed an innocent little girl. And, who the fuck knows what the repercussions are going to be for the band? This could go all kinds of sideways.
Posting and deleting things so quickly actually gets noticed more than something that gets left up. This is going to be so bad. I can’t even fathom how horribly this is going to resonate with the fan base.
I don’t get time to start sorting anything out in my brain as my phone starts vibrating in my hand. I glance down and see that it’s Eliza from Blackmore. She’s probably wondering what the hell just happened online too.
My heart skips, and then starts racing. This is where I get fired…
Glancing up, but not meeting anyone’s eyes, I move to head outside to take the call. “Excuse me,” I mutter, nearly tripping over a cord in my hurry to escape their curious stares.
When I push through the door to the parking lot, I catch Brad’s car pulling onto the street, the sunlight glinting off the rear window. My impulse is to chase after them. Flag him down to apologize, but I’m paralyzed with guilt on the spot.
I’m unable to see him or Charlie, but I can picture their faces; Brad, trying to stifle his anger, and Charlie trying to wrap her head around what’s going on. She’s a smart girl. She knows something is up.
How I wish I could explain it to her. Like I probably have to explain it to Eliza now.
I accept the call right before it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, Eliza. What’s up?” I ask, trying hard to switch into professional mode, and leave my emotions behind. It’s impossible, though, since everything is bubbling up to the surface. I swallow hard, preparing myself for the onslaught about to overtake me.
“You tell me,” she says matter-of-factly. I normally love that Eliza is all business, but right now it’s scaring me to death. “What just happened with the socials for Chaos Fuel? I just heard something was posted and then deleted?”
I don’t answer right away, trying to pull myself and an answer together at the same time. I need to navigate this carefully, no matter how reckless my heart is feeling now.
“Tess?” she prods.
Taking a deep breath, I swallow hard. “I’m here,” I start, knowing that the truth is the only play here. “I mistakenly posted a video of Brad and his daughter, thinking it was a good idea to show a softer side of him. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through completely.” I pause, my heart wrenching. “I also didn’t get permission to use Charlie beforehand like I should have.”
It”s Eliza’s turn to be quiet, and her silence is deafening. I can only imagine the ways she’s picturing firing me right here and now. This is a major fuck up. One that someone in my position should know better than commit. We both know it.
I start pacing and chewing on a nail, balancing nervously on the curb of the walkway to distract myself. The longer the silence stretches, the more nervous I get.
All I can do is explain myself. There is no defense.
“Once I realized my mistake, I took it down everywhere. But obviously the damage is already done,” I say, feeling small and defeated.
“I see,” is all she says, letting the words hit. And they do. Right in the heart. The disappointment in those two words just compounds with my own, and I feel like I’m drowning. The surface where all the air is grows further out of my reach.
“Really, Eliza. I don’t normally make mistakes like this. I got caught up in the moment, and thought it was something to bridge the gap with the fans. And the initial response was exactly as I’d hoped…but then…” I drift off, not wanting to remember all the vile comments that started pouring in.
“Then people happened,” she sighs.
“Well, people…and Brad.” I wince, picturing the protective anger in his beautiful features directed at me. “He was especially not happy.”
“Rightfully so.”
“Exactly,” I agree. “He has every right to be mad at me right now. It was a horrible idea. I shouldn’t have posted that without his permission.”
My stomach twists into knots as I internalize everything. Every negative emotion hurled my way right now is deserved, and I know it. Using a child to sway public opinion is the lowest of the low, and I can’t believe I did it.
Me – a so-called professional.
I nearly teeter off the curb I’m balancing on when Eliza says, “Here’s the thing – it worked.”
My pacing stops abruptly. “What? What worked?”
There’s a sly smile in her voice that I was not prepared for. “You haven’t checked the aftermath, have you?”
“No…?” I’ve barely had time to register what I did, let alone look to see what’s being said about it. It’s been a whopping twenty minutes since I deleted the post. If that.
“It’s still early, obviously, but people are already posting screen grabs with reaction videos, raving about seeing an intimate side of Brad. It’s struck a chord with the fans.”
My emotions crash into each other violently at this news. Part of me feels triumphant that my initial instinct was correct, but another part – the larger part, hates how it came about. How I betrayed an unspoken trust with Brad to protect his daughter. I hate that any success might come out of me fucking up so badly.
“I see,” I say flatly, repeating Eliza’s words back to her. I really can’t think of anything else to say. I can’t say, “Good,” because it’s not. It’s not good at all. In fact, it’s downright horrible. There are now echoes of my mistake floating around the internet.
It”s now eternal. Immortal. It’s never going to end.
As fast as this conversation with Eliza came to be, it only proves the point that anything posted on the internet is forever. I’ll never be able to escape this now.
And neither will Charlie. Or Brad.
“Look, most people say this about God, but the internet truly works in mysterious ways,” Eliza says, interrupting my self-destructive thoughts.
“But Brad?—”
“Will get over it.” Her confidence in her words is so magnetic, I almost believe them.
“I’m not so sure about that, Eliza,” I say, knowing in my heart there’s more truth in my words than hers. Plus, I’m supposed to be a social media expert. I do know how these things work. Brad and Charlie will now have to deal with this for a long time to come. “You didn’t see him leave just now.”
She sighs thoughtfully before saying, “I’ve worked with a lot of musicians. Hell, I even married a couple of them. I know how they tick. They’re all emotions. But here’s the thing, those emotions change. Frequently. They’re ready to punch walls one minute, and reciting poetry the next. It’s whiplash in its finest form. You just need to be able to navigate it and hang on for the ride. Trust me, he will get over it.”
I feel the truth in her words, as I’ve seen it myself with Brad on our date. The switch in his emotions when Gina showed up and then back again was dizzying but is also part of what attracts me to him. Is that normal?
This situation is totally different.
“But this is about his daughter, Eliza,” I say, cringing inwardly at my own shame. “He’s not going to get over that.”
“Let me talk to him,” she says after a pause.
“Wait. So, I’m not fired?” I ask, my brain still playing catch up to this entire conversation, let alone the situation itself.
“Of course not,” she says, matter-of-factly. As if the thought is the stupidest one in the world. “While the route you took is questionable, the results speak for themselves. I can’t deny that. And neither can Brad once he looks at it more closely.”
I’m only partially relieved to still have a job. Mostly, I’m still roiling with guilt at my mistake. Not only did I cross an ethical line, but I broke the trust I was building with Brad. The relationship we were building now lays in ashes at my feet. That’s more important than any job. That hurts the most.
While Eliza can most likely patch over whatever professional bridges have been burned between me and Brad, I’ll never be able to repair the personal ones. Any thought of something sparking between the two of us is now doused completely.
I’ve ruined it.
I’ve ruined everything.