9. Calla
NINE
CALLA
Imagine my surprise when Thompson shows up at my house only hours before I’m supposed to leave for tour after I hadn’t heard from him in over twenty-four hours.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as he strides into my bedroom like he owns the place. I can’t even remember the last time he stayed over. Truth be told, I didn’t really want him to come over before I left. I’ve barely seen him and realized that I actually haven’t missed him. It’s really made me sit and think about him and our relationship. I think this time away from each other will be good for us. It’ll help me see if I truly want to be with him or not, even if I am scared of the answer.
“Did you think I wasn’t going to come say goodbye to you before you leave?”
I shrug as I fold some leggings into my open suitcase on the bedroom floor.
“Calla, come on, babe. You know I’m going to miss you.”
I’m not sure that I know that, but I also don’t want to get into an argument right before I go. “I know. I just know you’ve been busy.”
“I know. But it’s a good problem to have, right? My agent is getting all kinds of requests coming up for me. It’s only up from here, baby.”
“That’s great, Thompson.” As much as I hate where our relationship is right now, I am proud of him for where he is in his career. He’s worked so hard to get here.
He sits on my bed and talks to me while I finish packing, just like he used to do before I left for tour. He even asks me questions about the setlist and surprises that I’m most excited for. And he doesn’t have his phone out. He’s truly listening , and man, does it feel nice. It’s like we’re the old Calla and Thompson, lying in bed at night and telling each other our dreams for the future. The people who were so madly in love that the mere thought of spending weeks away from each other felt like torture.
Remembering those feelings is why I let him kiss me once I’ve zipped up my suitcase. It’s why I let him push his tongue inside my mouth, grasping for any sort of intimacy from him. I let his hands roam my body, thinking maybe we need this before I go so that I’ll be leaving on a good note and the time apart will make us long for more.
But then he asks, “Will you blow me before you leave?”
Oooookay... so not a mutual exchange of oral sex but me giving him a blowjob. It feels disgusting for him to ask that of me when we hadn’t slept together in weeks. But I’m even more disgusted that I feel myself nodding even when I don’t want to do it. I’m not sure how to say no to him because I’ve never had to and I’ve never wanted to. In this moment, alarms are going off in my brain, telling me this doesn’t feel right.
Instead of stopping, I sink to my knees and let him shove his cock into my mouth. Every time he thrusts into my mouth, I want to gag. I want to push him away and tell him to not talk to me again.
Unfortunately for me, I don’t do any of that. I let him use me. I let him hit the back of my throat over and over again as tears burn my eyes.
After finishing in my mouth, he zips himself up and kisses me softly on the forehead, telling me to have a good trip and that he can’t wait to see me in a few weeks when he flies out for my show.
I don’t say anything back to him. I sit on my knees and watch him leave, completely stunned about what just happened.
I’ve never felt so disappointed in myself. It’s like my spine is completely gone. I’m no longer the woman I used to be, the woman I’d hoped to be when I was growing up. I let everyone around me use me, and now they’ve molded me into exactly what they want, not caring about me or what I want.
The thought sickens me so much that I run to the bathroom and throw up everything Thompson just pumped down my throat.
I wipe my mouth, lie down on the bathroom floor, and stare up at the ceiling. I’m expecting to cry, but no tears fall. Maybe I’m tired of crying over someone who treats me like he does. Or maybe I’m finally dead inside. I’m a pawn for everyone to use how they see fit. Brayden will love that.
This, unfortunately, is how Luke finds me. Staring up at the ceiling in my bathroom like a crazy person.
I’m beginning to think I am a little crazy. My life feels so out of control.
“Calla? You alright?” he asks, carefully peeking his head around the corner, probably to make sure I’m decent.
It’s funny. For someone who said he wasn’t here to be my friend, he’s the only one who asks me if I’m alright. He’s asked more times than I can count over the last few weeks, and every time, I never know how to answer. I’m not sure if I’m ready to admit the truth to myself, let alone to a man who would rather be anywhere else than watching me every hour of the day.
When he sees I’m fully clothed, since my pathetic boyfriend couldn’t be bothered to get me undressed, he comes inside the bathroom.
I look up at him from the floor. He’s in jeans today, which is a rare occurrence for him as he’s almost always in a suit.
This man, who I barely know, is staring at me on my floor in front of the toilet, and it makes me want to curl up into a ball. He must think I’m absolutely pathetic. I would if I were him.
“The car is here to take us to the tour bus. Do you need a few more minutes?” he asks when I don’t answer.
I need more than a few minutes. I need an entire lifetime. I need to run in the other direction and never look back.
“No, I’m ready.” I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and my lips are swollen, but not in a good way. I look defeated.
Through the mirror, I can see Luke watching me, trying to figure out what just happened. I’m sure he knows Thompson was just here. He’s probably expecting me to be in a cheery mood. “I need to brush my teeth. I’ll be right down.”
He tilts his head like he wants to ask something, but all he says is, “Ok, I’ll take your bags down.”
“Thank you.”
I splash some water on my face and brush my teeth quickly before meeting Luke and Ashley downstairs. I look around my house one last time before I go, and for the first time since I bought this place, I really think I might actually hate it.
It feels so cold. So impersonal.
Maybe after this tour, I’ll buy a new house. A fresh start. Without certain people in my life to taint everything special to me.
Ha. A girl can dream.
Several hours later, we’re en route to our first show. We’re starting off strong in Las Vegas. I’ve never experienced Vegas like other people. I’ve played shows there and attended an awards ceremony once, but after I did what I needed to do, I was always whisked away and shielded from what most people would consider the fun part of Vegas.
Maybe I could sneak out for a bit before we have to get back on the road.
This is what I’m contemplating when Luke walks into the living space on the bus, and all my sneaking-out thoughts fly out the window. Luke is stuck to me like glue. He’s good at his job, that’s for sure. But I’d like the chance to live a little every now and then without having a bodyguard shadowing me.
It wasn’t even my idea to have a bodyguard. My parents and Brayden suggested it. And by suggested it, I mean they found the company, signed the contract, and set up payment before I was even notified anything would be happening. They told me it was to keep me safe, but I’m starting to believe it was to keep me from having any fun and realizing how my life could be without them controlling every little aspect of it.
Too bad for them, I’m starting to see right through it, even with someone following me around.
Most of my band and crew are on the second tour bus, but Luke and Ashley are on this one with me. They each get a bunk while I get a big bed in the back of the bus. One condition for the tour bus was that I was not sleeping on a bunk bed. I did that on my first two tours when I was starting out, and I never wanted to do it again.
Luke sits down next to me on the couch but leaves plenty of room between us.
“On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you to be living on this bus with me?” I ask, trying to force myself out of my dark thoughts.
“I’d say a two at most.”
My brows shoot up. “Ah, well, that’s better than a one, so I’ll take it.”
He lowers his voice and leans in so Ashley can’t hear him, even though I have no idea where she is. “Do you want to tell me what happened at the house? Did that asshole do something to you?”
I huff a laugh and turn away in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. “I thought you weren’t here to be my friend.”
“I’m not. But if he did something to hurt you, I need to know about it.”
I pull my knees up to my chest. “I don’t think you really want to know, Luke.”
He sighs. “Calla. Look at me.”
I turn my head and rest it on my knees to look at him. “What?”
“Tell me what happened.”
I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them, his dark eyes are boring into mine. For a moment, I think it might be nice to open up to someone who truly has no stake in my life and let them know what’s actually going on. I’m so desperate to talk to someone that I give in easily. “Fine. Thompson was there, as you know.”
“Yeah. Saw him walk up to your room and then saw him leave.” I wonder if he watches all this from the cameras around my house. Another one of my parents’ ideas, not mine.
“Right, well, we were talking while I was getting ready, and everything felt nice. Really nice. Like old times, you know? Like he really cared about me. Then he kissed me, and I thought, ok, maybe he is actually a little sad that I’m leaving. But then…”
“Then what?” Luke presses, his voice low and dangerous sounding.
“Then he asked me to blow him. I didn’t really want to because, well,” I suddenly feel awkward talking to Luke about this, but he did ask for it, “we haven’t been intimate in a while, so I thought maybe he’d want to reconnect in that way before I left. The last orgasm I had I gave to myself, so I guess I was hoping…”
Luke stiffens next to me, but I can’t stop now. He opened the gates, so now he has to listen. “Anyways, I didn’t want to blow him. It felt wrong. But it also felt wrong to say no to my boyfriend.”
“You can always say no, Calla. To anyone,” he interrupts.
“Well, I didn’t, ok? After he was finished, he zipped up, kissed my forehead, and left me there on my knees.”
“Fucker,” Luke whispers.
“And I felt disgusted with myself. I felt used but mostly mad that I let him use me. I’ve been letting him use me for a long time. And I hate myself for it. I made myself sick and then laid on the floor until you found me.”
“Jesus Christ, Calla.”
“Bet you wish you didn’t ask now, huh?” I lean my head back on the headrest and look up at the bus ceiling.
“First of all, what he did is not ok. Your body is yours and no one should use it unless you give them permission to. That twat should’ve noticed the signs.”
“He doesn’t notice much of anything when it comes to me,” I admit.
“Why don’t you break up with him?” he asks.
“You say that like it’s simple.”
“Isn’t it? Tell him you’re done, that you deserve better.”
I’m silent for a moment. “I tried before. To break up with him. A few years ago, I suspected he was cheating on me. But everyone told me I couldn’t do it. That Thompson and I are ‘a brand,’ and we have an image to uphold. If we broke up, it would ruin everything. People would hate me for hurting him. His career might suffer. My fans would be mad. Blah, blah, blah. So, I talked to him about it, and things got better for a while.”
Luke’s fingers wrap around my chin and he directs my face toward him. “Calla, this is your life. It’s not a game. You shouldn’t force yourself to be with someone who treats you like that.”
I shrug and try to look away, but he keeps my eyes locked on his. This suddenly feels too intimate.
“You are beautiful, Calla.” The way he says it sends a chill down my spine. People talk about the way I look all the time. Sometimes nice, sometimes not so nice. But the way Luke just said that makes me want to believe it. “Any man would be lucky to have you.”
I swallow. “Really?” I could be blinded by my need for some sort of human connection, but it sounds like he’s serious. And it sounds like he might actually give a shit about me. I’m so desperate for someone to care.
“Yes, really. And it’s a shame that anyone has ever made you feel like you’re not.”
His eyes roam over my face as if he’s trying to figure something out. I wish he was someone else. Someone I could ask to hug me and make me feel safe, even if only for a few minutes. But Luke has made it clear that he isn’t here for that, and I don’t want to push that boundary for him. Not when he’s the only person who has been semi-decent to me in weeks.
We both startle when we hear Ashley’s voice coming nearer. “I know, but that’s not what we asked for,” she says to whoever she’s talking to on the phone.
Luke pulls away from me faster than I ever thought possible. He stands, and I look up at him, stunned.
He runs his hand through his hair and blows out a breath. “I, uh, sorry.”
“Oh,” I say, not liking the way my stomach falls. The change was so abrupt that I’m not sure what happened.
I’ve gotten good about not showing my true emotions, though, so I smile up at him in an attempt to show that I’m fine and completely unfazed by his sudden change in behavior.
He looks at me like he knows my smile is fake.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.
“Yeah. No. Nothing to be sorry about. Thanks for talking to me. I think I needed to get that off my chest.”
“Right.”
And then he walks back to his bunk and I’m left alone once again.