15. Calla
FIFTEEN
CALLA
“Got you something,” Luke says as he walks through my dressing room door holding a giant pizza box.
My eyebrows shoot up because, one, he just walked in my room when I thought he was upset with me after the rest of our silent drive here, and two, that pizza smells so damn good.
“What is that?”
He sets the box down on the table.
“You said you’ve never had Chicago-style pizza. I haven’t either, so I got us some to try. I was informed that deep dish is not actually Chicago-style according to the locals, so today we’re eating like locals.”
I freeze in place. “That’s… that’s really sweet.”
“It’s just pizza, Calla,” he says casually.
Sure, maybe. But it feels like more than that. “Right.”
He opens the box, and as if on cue, my stomach growls.
“You know I’m not supposed to eat this,” I tell him, walking a little closer to the box.
“You haven’t eaten all day except for a lousy protein shake before we went to the studio, and you’re about to perform for who knows how many hours. You need to eat. And this pizza,” he lifts a square from the box. “Has protein, fat, and carbs. The perfect meal.”
I laugh. Can’t argue with that logic, I guess. I grab a piece, and we both take a bite at the same time. The moan that escapes my mouth is almost erotic. Luke notices, too, because his eyes flick in my direction.
I can’t even remember the last time I had pizza. I used to eat it all the time growing up. As soon as I was signed to a label, they set me up with a management team who put me on a strict diet. Needless to say, pizza wasn’t on the list.
“God, I’ve missed this.”
Luke wipes his mouth on a napkin. “You know, what they’ve got you doing isn’t healthy.”
“I know, Luke. It’s just… it’s hard for me to push back on pretty much anything. I mean, you’ve seen firsthand how no one cares what I want. There’s not a whole lot I can do about it.”
“And you’re ok with that?”
“No, of course not,” I snap defensively. “But I haven’t figured out how to fix it yet. I’m working on it.”
He nods, but I’m not sure he believes me. Hell, I’m not sure I believe myself.
I’ve finished one piece of pizza to Luke’s three and I’m debating if I should eat another before going on stage when the dressing room door opens, and Thompson waltzes in like he owns the place.
“There she is.” He’s smiling, but my stomach drops.
I really don’t want him here.
“Thompson. Hi.” It takes me a few awkward seconds to realize he’s standing with his arms open for a hug. Slowly, I stand and walk over to him to let him wrap his arms around me. Deep down, I think I was hoping maybe I’d feel an overwhelming sense of comfort being in his arms again and it would convince me that I’m being stupid and Thompson does love me.
But it doesn’t feel like that at all. It feels like I’m hugging a stranger.
I pull away from him as quickly as I can. “I wasn’t sure you were still coming.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Um, because we haven’t even spoken once since I left L.A.”
He rolls his eyes like I’m being crazy. “Oh, come on, babe. You know I’ve been busy.”
“Too busy to even text me?” I ask quietly.
“Are we really going to spend our one night together arguing? Come on, babe. I’m here now.”
He can’t possibly think that’s just supposed to make it ok. But I don’t push it. Not yet.
Thompson seems to notice just now that we’re not alone and directs his attention to Luke. “You mind giving us some privacy? You probably shouldn’t be in here anyway.” Then he looks at the pizza Luke and I were sharing and back at me. “And you shouldn’t be eating pizza. You know better than that.”
What is that supposed to mean? Luke closes the lid of the box and stands from the table.
“No, you don’t have to go,” I tell Luke.
“Yes, he does,” Thompson says, cutting in. “He doesn’t need to be in here when I’m here. He shouldn’t be in here alone with you anyway.”
“Excuse me? You don’t get to decide that.”
I look over to where Luke is but find that he’s already gone. I start to head toward the door, but Thompson stops me and pulls me back to him.
“You’re acting like you’re not excited to see me,” he says.
“I just—” I’m not sure what I was going to say, but thankfully, I’m interrupted by the door opening again and Ashley and my hair stylist walking in. Thompson leans down and kisses me, but I don’t kiss him back. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.
He smiles when he pulls back. “I’ll see you after the show, alright?”
“Yeah, ok.” After the show. That’s when I should end it with him. I can’t do this anymore.
I sigh in relief when he leaves, and my team starts the process of getting me ready.
When it’s show time, I walk out of the room and immediately look to my left. Luke is standing next to the door like I hoped he would be. I scan his face for any sort of clue as to what he’s thinking, but he simply nods at me. I know he doesn’t want there to be anything romantic between us, but at the very least, we’ve developed a friendship. I need him to know that I’m not ok with the way that Thompson talked to him.
Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to say anything before Ashley urges me to move along to the stage.
The show is fantastic, and I get great energy from the audience, but I can’t pretend that my mind is not preoccupied. Luke stands on the side of the stage as usual, but tonight, his scowl is back, and I don’t like that. I look for Thompson, but I don’t see him anywhere. I can’t spend too much time looking for him, though, because tonight is about the fans, not my disastrous love life.
After the show, I’m always on a high, but tonight, I’m determined. Luke doesn’t give me the usual smile he’s been giving me lately, which hurts more than I care to admit. He doesn’t say anything as we walk back to the dressing room, but I can feel him there.
Ashley is waiting in my dressing room when I get there, but Thompson is nowhere to be found.
“Hey, great show, Calla,” Ashley says without even looking up from her iPad. “Thompson already went to the hotel. He’ll meet you there.”
“Did he even watch the show?”
She doesn’t answer me. Instead, I’m left alone for a few minutes to catch my breath before I’m whisked off to the meet and greet. I’m cranky and angry, and I really just want to get out of here, but I have to smile and give hugs and take pictures. I’m grateful for my fans and that people actually want to see me, but on nights like tonight, I wish I could be invisible. I wish I could run away, and no one would notice.
When the meet and greet is over, I change out of my costume and wash my face before we head to the hotel. Luke doesn’t say much on the ride over. Actually, he says nothing at all until we step off the elevator onto our floor.
“I’m going to stay in my own room tonight,” he says flatly. His words hit me like a brick. It’s silly, actually, but I kind of liked having him around at our last hotel. But I suppose I can’t blame him for actually wanting to sleep in a bed and not on a couch in my room.
“You aren’t worried I’m going to wander off?”
“Oh, no. I’m very worried, but I figured you might need some privacy with Thompson.”
I stop in front of my door. Right. Thompson. “Oh. Right. Sure. Thanks.”
“But if you need to go somewhere, please text me or call me or,” he looks to our right, “it looks like my room is right there, so just knock.”
I give him a mock salute. “Sir, yes, sir!”
“I’m serious, Calla.”
“I know. I know. I got it.”
He sighs, clearly not believing me. “Alright, well, have a good night.”
“Not likely,” I mumble as I walk into my room and shut the door behind me. Thompson is nowhere to be seen. I head to the bedroom and hear the shower in the attached bathroom.
His phone lights up and catches my attention. I grab it off the desk and see a Snapchat notification. I’m not proud of what I do next, but my gut tells me I need to do it. So, I unlock his phone (he hasn’t changed his password the entire time we’ve been together) and open the app. He has a ton of messages, but I open the most recent one.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to find, but a picture of a topless woman with the message ‘miss you already’ was not it. I quickly put the phone down and take several steps away as if the phone is on fire.
He’s cheating on me. I’m not stupid. I suspected it, but having it confirmed doesn’t feel great. At least I don’t have to feel guilty about ending things with him.
Thompson chooses that moment to walk out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. I hadn’t even noticed the water turning off.
“There you are.” His smile fades when he sees my face, which I imagine is displaying a range of emotions as I process what I just saw. “You alright?”
“You’re cheating on me,” I say. I don’t ask because it’s really not a question. I’m just stating the facts.
“What?” At least he has the decency to look a little guilty before he pretends to be confused.
“You’re cheating on me. I just saw your Snapchat message.” He doesn’t ask what message, just sighs and shakes his head.
“Come on, Calla.”
“No. No, you don’t get to act like this isn’t a big deal.”
Another sigh, like I’m inconveniencing him. “Yes, I have been with a few other women, but none of them mean anything. You’re the one that matters. You’re the one I love.”
Oh my god, I’m going to be sick. “How can you say that? How can you sit here and tell me you love me when you’ve been fucking other people?”
“Really? You’re going to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since we got together? I saw the way you were looking at your bodyguard. You’re just as guilty as me.”
“I hate to break it to you, but I haven’t been with anyone else… ever. You’re the only one, Thompson.”
He seems genuinely surprised by that statement. He takes a step toward me and reaches out like he’s going to hug me.
“Don’t fucking touch me!” I shout, taking a step back.
“Calla, don’t be like this.”
“Don’t be like what? Don’t be upset that my partner is cheating on me?” I pause, unable to explain what my emotions are going through right now. I’m sad but relieved. He’s given me an easy out, but I’m losing the man I thought I would be with forever. I want to cry, but I also want to laugh because what in the actual fuck is my life right now? A crazy smile forms on my face. “You know what? This is actually perfect.”
“What?”
“Things haven’t been good between us for a while now, and this just confirms for me that I was making the right decision to break up with you.”
His eyes go wide as if he never thought that would be an option. “Calla, think about what you’re saying.”
I choke out a laugh. “Oh, I’ve thought about it. A lot, actually. We’re done, Thompson.”
“You can’t just end this. We need to talk about it.”
“Nope. No thanks. You ended it for us the second you put your dick in another woman. I should be thanking you for making this so much easier for me.” I turn and start to walk out of the bedroom, but he grabs my arm. I quickly shake it off.
“I told you not to fucking touch me. I’m sick and tired of people not listening to me!”
“Maybe if you stopped being a bitch people would listen to you,” he counters, anger now clear in his voice.
I tilt my head back and laugh. It’s a manic sort of laugh because I literally feel like I’ve left my body. I feel numb. “I’m the bitch? Me? That’s rich coming from the man who can’t talk about anything but himself!”
“Are you kidding me? I thought you liked hearing about what’s going on in my life.”
“Yeah, sure, for part of a conversation. But did you ever consider asking about what’s going on in my life? Or how I’m doing? No, you didn’t. It’s always about you, Thompson. And I’m over it. I want to be with someone who actually gives a fuck about me and not just someone to have on their arm and make them look good.”
For once in his life, Thompson has been stunned into silence. I use this opportunity to leave. I have nothing left to say to him. We’re done. It’s over.
I storm out of the hotel room with just the purse I didn’t have a chance to take off. I don’t even think about it; I just need to get out of here. Once I’m in the hallway, I contemplate knocking on Luke’s door. He did tell me to come get him if I needed to go somewhere, but he’s tired and I’m a grown adult. So, instead of stopping at his room, I turn and head toward the elevators.
A few people glance at me when I walk through the lobby, but no one stops me. For the first time in forever, I’m on my own.
I don’t know where I’m going. I have no plans. I just walk. Even though it’s late, the streets are crowded, so I’m able to stay mostly hidden.
I walk and walk until a flashing light catches my attention. A tattoo shop.
A slow grin crosses my face. I’ve always wanted a tattoo.
I walk inside, and I know instantly that the woman at the front desk recognizes me. If not because of the gasp she lets out, then it’s the way her eyes look like they’re about to pop out of her head.
“Hi, do you take walk-ins?” I ask, looking down at one of the open books of art on the front counter. I have no idea what kind of tattoo I want, but tonight feels like the right time to do it.
“Um, let me go ask the guys if they have any availability.” She runs off.
It’s late. I didn’t look at the hours on the door, so I have no idea if they’re closing soon or not, and I’m expecting to be rejected when she comes back to the counter.
“Jacob says he can take you,” she says.
Ah, good. Thank you, Jacob. Let’s get this show on the road.