Chapter 15 Mabel
MABEL
“I can explain.”
Kat doesn’t even say hello when she answers. It’s nearly two in the morning in Los Angeles, so the fact that the phone only rang twice tells me she was waiting for my call. Doesn’t matter if she was sleeping or partying. She was ready, and from her tone, she’s already annoyed.
I drop my eyes to the ring on my middle finger and make a fist. The gem glints under the florescent lighting. It might as well be mocking me. I take a deep breath and push my toes into the soles of my platforms.
“Explain, then.”
“Kaz and I decided to be in a fake relationship. You know, to really lean into the public fascination. Give the people what they want, right? My agent is submitting me for this new runway competition show, and I could use the media attention. I’m pretending to date Kaz for op—”
I huff a laugh, cutting her off. “Right. For optics.”
“It is. It’s all for appearances. Just until I get selected for the show.”
I lean against the wall and drop my head back on the cool brick.
Caveat Lover’s set is ending, meaning it’s almost time for Heartless to take the stage.
Instead of warming up or getting ready, though, I’m listening to my girlfriend attempt to explain away pictures of her with her tongue down some guy’s throat.
The same guy she’s always claimed was just a friend.
She always made me feel crazy for being jealous of him.
For being suspicious of him. It was my problem. My insecurities. Always me.
My eyes sting, and I breathe through it, willing the tears away. My emotions have been through hell and back in the last twelve hours, and I’m so fucking overwhelmed. I have a mom. I have sisters. I have so many unanswered questions and unmade decisions. And now, I’m about to have an ex-girlfriend.
I wipe my sweaty palm on my leather skirt and close my eyes.
“Kat, I know a thing or two about contract relationships, okay? Those pap pictures weren’t staged for the media. If they were, they’d have been crisp, clear, and in public. The pictures I just saw were of a private moment between two people who had no idea they were being photographed.”
“It wasn’t like that. We were just practicing.”
Kat stumbles over her words as she speaks, her voice high-pitched and defensive. But me? My words come out sounding tired. Defeated. I swallow back a sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.
Practicing.
They were just practicing.
The lie hurts more than the pictures, and a tear breaches my lash line and rolls down my cheek.
“Three years,” I whisper. “We were together for three years. You could at least respect me enough to be honest.”
She gasps, then sniffs. “I do respect you!”
I roll my head back and forth against the brick.
“No. If you did, you’d have told me about the relationship contract as soon as it was floated as an option.
I wouldn’t have found out from a gossip blog moments before I’m supposed to play a show.
If you respected me, there wouldn’t be pap photos of you and Kaz practicing.
I wouldn’t be blindsided. I would have known. ”
I also want to add that if she respected me, she’d have consulted me first. I don’t, though. It’s pointless.
She clicks her tongue and huffs. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Mabel. You know how important my career is to me. I thought you supported me.”
I can picture her thin brows slanted and her overlined lips pointed downward in a frown.
Indignant and ready to argue. I bet she has her hand on her hip, too.
In the beginning, I’d have found it cute.
Admirable, even. The way she never backs down.
The way she never admits fault or owns her mistakes. But now? Now I’m just...
Over it.
My exhale is slow as another tear trails down my cheek. “And what about after?”
Kat pauses. “After what?”
“This runway show. Let’s say you get on it. What happens then?”
“What do you mean what happens? Then I compete, and I win. What else?”
“Will you still need to be in this fake relationship with Kaz once you get on the show? How long is the contract for?”
“Oh. Well...We haven’t really signed a contract.”
I bite back a groan. No contract. No parameters. Just practicing in the dark. I don’t bother pointing out how fucked up it all is. It doesn’t matter. She won’t listen, anyway.
I ask the next question already knowing the answer. I don’t even know why I do it. Maybe I need to be sure. I need it to hurt more before I take it seriously.
“So when you win, will we be able to go public? No more press appearances with Kaz. No more handsy photos or flirty videos. No more practicing kissing in dark corners. Instead, it will be you and me doing red carpets and events, right? You and me in the media. No more hiding. No more secrets. It will finally be how we’ve talked about. Right?”
I hate myself for the small bud of hope that starts to bloom in my chest as I speak.
The way my mind creates vivid, colorful images of each scenario before they even leave my tongue.
Scenarios I’ve imagined hundreds of times over the last three years.
The outfits and the music and the glam. Flash photography and smiles.
Her hand in mine. Us laughing and posing together on every tabloid cover in the magazine rack. Us in love, loud and proud. Us.
Even now, in the wake of this deep ache, I can’t help but long for it just a little. I don’t even want it anymore, but muscle memory is a bitch. And what’s the heart if not just an annoying fucking muscle?
“Mabel. Sweetie. Don’t do this. You know it’s not that easy. It’s just not the right time.”
I huff another strangled laugh and wipe at my cheeks. She’s not saying anything new, but this time...God, this time, I hear it for what it is, and it fucking hurts.
“When will it be the right time, Kat?”
When she doesn’t answer, Sav’s words from last week ring in my ears.
There is always something more important, or more urgent, or more exciting than you.
I swallow roughly, then lick my lips. They taste salty from my tears.
“I want to break up.”
I say it clearly and calmly, resolute in my decision. I’m expecting Kat to agree, but when she snaps back, I actually flinch.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? This is for my career, Mabel! It’s not even a real relationship. It’s for my career and you’re making it about you.”
I’m at fault again. Always me.
I shake my head. “It’s not just about Kaz, Kat. It’s not just about the fake relationship or the kiss.”
“So what the fuck is it about?”
I shrug. “I don’t want to be a secret anymore. I don’t want to have to constantly hide my relationship from everyone.”
Kat scoffs. “So now you’re punishing me? You’re breaking up with me because I’m not ready to let the world know I’m dating you? Because I’m not ready to sacrifice my career?”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “I’m not punishing you. I’m standing up for myself. You’re not ready, and I respect that. I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore, and I’m asking you for the same respect.”
“This is bullshit, Mabel. You’re overreacting.”
My laugh is little more than a gurgle, and I squeeze my eyes shut against another wave of tears. I’m going to have to wear sunglasses on stage because I don’t have time to redo my makeup.
“Kat, I’ve spent the last three years on your back burner.
Being your second choice, your dirty secret, always hiding in the darkness while watching you parade around in the light with someone else, and I’m so fucking tired of hurting.
I deserve better. I deserve dates and public outings and shared friendships.
I deserve a partner who is proud to be with me, not ashamed.
I deserve forever, Kat. An open, honest forever.
Not one shrouded in secrets and lies. I deserve that, and so do you. ”
“I can give you that. I can! We can have it together. It’s just not—”
“The right time. I know.”
“Sweetie, you just have to be patient with me. Please. I thought you loved me?”
Her last sentence pounds against the inside of my skull as noise from the venue grows louder. Caveat’s set is over. I have to go be a carefree rock star now. I kick off the wall and stand straight, swiping under my eyes once more. My fingers come back black with my destroyed eyeliner.
“I can’t keep waiting for the right time when we both know it will never come,” I say calmly.
“I did love you. Part of me probably always will, but I have to love myself, too, and loving myself means recognizing that I deserve more than you can give me.” I take one last deep inhale and blow it out slowly through my nose.
“I’m breaking up with you, Kat. I wish you all the best, okay? ”
Kat laughs, mocking and cruel. “Whatever, Mabel. I’ll talk to you in a week when you come to your senses.”
Then she hangs up.
I stand unblinking, with my mouth half open, staring at the wall across from me. She hung up on me after dismissing everything I’d said. No apology. No I love you. No recognition of the truth in my words or the devastation in my tone. Nothing except accusations and excuses.
You’re making this about you, she’d said.
And therein lies the problem. For once, I centered myself. I put my feelings first, and Kat couldn’t handle it. That’s not love. Maybe it never was.
I turn to walk back to the dressing room and stop short when I find Sav leaning on the wall, mascara tear tracks drying on her own cheeks. I give her a sad smile and a shrug.
“It’s over. I don’t want to talk about it.”
She closes the distance between us in three strides, and then she’s wrapping me up in her arms and I’m collapsing against her. Sobs shake my body, and she pulls me in tighter.
“I love you,” she whispers into my hair. “I love you so fucking much, Mabes. Anyone with any ounce of sense would be proud to call you theirs. Kat’s a dumb cunt.”
I snort a laugh and rest my forehead on Sav’s shoulder. “She’s not a cunt. She’s just—”
“She’s a cunt, Mabes, and you deserve better.”
I shake my head, but I don’t fight my smile.
“I know it hurts right now, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. You’ll find your one. I know it. They’re out there.”
More tears flood my eyes, but I nod. “Yeah.”
I drop my arms and step back, then I laugh when I look at Sav. We must look terrifying, what with black eyeliner and mascara pooling under our eyes and streaking down our cheeks. I wave my finger around her face in a circle.
“This would be great for a Halloween show.”
“Noted.” She laughs, and then her smile softens. “Is there anything I can do?”
I purse my lips, consider her question, then give her a half smile. “We could go dancing?”
Sav smirks and arches an eyebrow.
I arch a brow back. “What did you do?”
“Oh, nothing much...” She shrugs, then turns back to the dressing room. “Just had Ham rent out part of a club downtown for us. We should be good to go after the show.”
I roll my eyes with a laugh. “Of course you did.”
“I have this new wig I want to try out.” Sav threads her fingers through mine and squeezes. “And I know my sister.”
I squeeze back. She’s right, and I’m so fucking grateful. We walk hand in hand back to the dressing room, and when we enter, it’s empty.
“Claire and Aurora went back to the lodge.” Sav plops in front of the vanity mirror and takes a makeup wipe to her face. “They’ll be with us tonight. Callie, too, but I told the boys they have to stay home.”
“Cool.”
I grab one of her makeup wipes and start on my own mess of a face, ignoring the flicker of excitement that’s ignited in my chest. I tell myself it’s for a night of dancing with my friends.
A night where I don’t have to worry about my girlfriend getting angry that I went out, or about her guilt trips built precariously atop her double standards.
That’s all. I’m excited for dancing and laughter and friendship and freedom.
It has nothing to do with Aurora. Of course it doesn’t. I just broke up with my girlfriend and Aurora is married. A crush would be fucking stupid, and I’m done being stupid with my heart.
Absolutely done.