Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
LIVIANNA/LILY
Then
The Ghost Who Wears My Name
She lingers like a shadow stitched to my skin, whispering that I’ll never be enough.
Iflip through one of my mom’s fashion magazines as I wait in bed for Callum to text. He was acting weird when he left this morning. I’ve had a low simmering unease throwing me off all day because of it.
Bren sticks his head in my room around eleven o’clock. “Dad didn’t make it home tonight?”
“Nope. He messaged me around six and said he’ll be home tomorrow afternoon.” I sit and motion for Bren to join me. “Can I ask you something?”
He moseys in and plops down on my bed. “As long as it has nothing to do with you and Cash’s sex life.”
“I don’t need to talk to you about that.” I move a pillow over my lap. “Did he seem off today?”
“He always is when he has to do work for Ur Boyz.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Bren lounges back with his palms behind his head and stares at the ceiling. “What’s bothering you, Livianna?”
“When Callum’s uncle brought up Callum’s mom, a strange look passed across his face.”
“Probably because he has to take care of her when she comes back from a photoshoot.”
“Like helping around like Dad does for Mom?”
“Not like that.” Bren glances at me. “His mom is grieving and it hits hard.”
“How so?”
“She cries all the time.”
“Why?”
“Cash just said she can’t let go of his dad. Ever since he committed suicide five years ago, she’s been like this. Big modeling jobs push her over the edge and it takes her days to get back to herself.”
I stare at my dusty-rose-colored duvet and fiddle with the edge while I think about that for a moment. It must be hard dealing with losing his dad. And his mom… My heart aches for him.
“Come on.” Bren pushes up and taps my knee. “This conversation is getting too heavy. We need to lighten up. Literally.”
He scoots off my bed and leads me to his room. “Give Cash a little room this week. He’s dealing with a lot and I don’t want to be chasing him out of the studio every day because he can’t handle the stress.”
“I’ll try to remember that.” My chest tightens as I get comfortable in a huge, dark gray suede swivel chair Bren has in his room.
He has it decorated nicely considering he’s a young guy in a band. When he was putting it together with the designer, I expected pictures of naked women hanging from the walls.
But he picked out framed records or pictures of famous rock stars for the decor on one wall. The other has a couple of guitars hanging from it.
The furniture is black. His duvet and sheets are dark gray, but he has a red throw that drapes over one of the corners of his bed.
My thoughts go back to Callum. “Should I expect him to text me tonight? He said he would.”
Bren pulls a box out of his dresser and rummages around in it. He turns to me with a pot pipe and a bag of weed in his hands.
“Make a spot for me.” He nudges me.
I push to one side as he sits beside me and prepares a bowl for us to smoke. It’s not our first time doing this. We don’t do it often, but it’s increased since he returned from touring. Especially when my parents are out of town.
They trust us, but sometimes I wonder why. It’s not like we go out of our way to hide what we’re doing. We’ve even gone to dinner with them when we were so high we couldn’t stop laughing.
I’m sure they knew, but I guess since we don’t throw crazy parties or get into trouble, they find it acceptable. They know drugs and sex run rampant in the entertainment industry, so maybe they think as long as we keep it under control, it’s okay.
Bren takes a hit and passes it to me. I take two puffs, knowing I don’t need much to be lifted out of my body. I rest my head back and let my thoughts leave my brain. It’s nice to escape once in a while.
Bren takes the pipe back. “You gonna want more?”
“No, I’m good.” My thoughts go to an unexpected and unwelcomed place as they sometimes do when I’m high. “Do you ever wonder about her, Bren?”
“Who?”
“Lehlani Rose.”
“No, Livianna.” He gives me a pointed stare. “I’m not talking about this bullshit with you.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s a figment of your imagination, a ghost who lives in your mind whispering shit that isn’t true. She doesn’t exist. That’s why.”
“Oh, but she does.”
“Only in your head.” He takes a drag and lets the quiet pass as he exhales. “You’re looking for proof of things that don’t make sense.”
He’s right. She isn’t a person that anyone can see or know. She’s never even taken a breath. That should be all the explanation I need, but sometimes I still wonder…
I sigh, grateful for the numbness, because the agony that goes along with thoughts of what I did to her is my prison to bear on my own.
He takes a couple more tokes and slowly releases the smoke from between his lips. “You should ask Mom and Dad if you can come to our gig on Friday. Maybe Cash will chill out about going if you’re there.”
“What?” I peer over at Bren. “You can’t have a show on Friday night. Callum’s taking me out on a date.”
Bren’s bloodshot eyes roam around my face. “Have you talked to him today? I mean, after we left?”
“No. Why?” My slowed brainwaves race to make the connection. “What happened when you got to the studio?”
“John booked us for a few concerts around town. We’re performing almost every night until Cash’s birthday.”
“But my season is getting ready to wrap. I have to work during that time.” I blink and try to understand. “How am I going to get to see you guys?”
“We’ll figure something out.”
“But what about our date?” I push off the chair and get ready to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“To text Callum. I’m confused and need to know what he’s thinking.” I reach the hallway.
Bren hollers to my back, “He’s with his mom, Liv. He might not answer.”
“Yes, he will.” I enter my room, find my phone, and crawl onto my bed.
I send Callum a message with my mind scrambled.
Me: What about our date on Friday?
I wait for what seems like a half an hour for his response. It could be the time warp caused by the weed, but it’s still torture waiting.
Callum: Sorry.
Me: For what?
Callum: We’ll have to do it another time.
Me: You promised to take me out on Friday.
Callum: What do you want me to do, Lily?
Me: Take me out. You said you wanted to show me off in public and let the world know I was your girlfriend.
He doesn’t respond. I get ready for bed, with my thoughts spinning in a downward anxiety spiral. I wring my hands and pace around my room.
Is this always going to happen? Is our work always going to get in the way?
Between other girls and his singing career, I’m beginning to wonder if we can make it. Am I going to lose him before we even start?
I slide into bed at midnight. I have an early call time, so I have to leave at six in the morning. My heart breaks as I peer at my cell phone. Still no message from Callum.
I send one final text. If I’m hurting, so can he.
Me: Nothing to say? Just face it, you’re a liar.
I throw my phone across the room and bury my head in my pillows. Maybe a few hours of rest will make it all better. If only that were true.
My alarm goes off way too early for me. I could use another ten hours of deep sleep. I drag myself out of bed and into the en suite, picking up my phone from the floor as I pass it.
I peek at the screen. There’s a slew of messages from Callum.
Shit.
Bren told me to take it easy on him since he was caring for his mom, and I went and sent that text. I shrink inside.
What was I thinking? Oh, that’s right, I wasn’t. Stupid pot.
I should read the messages, but I don’t have time. I’ll do it once my ride picks me up and I’m on my way into the studio.
My driver arrives right on time. He’s a sweet older man my parents hired. He works because his wife died, and he likes to get out and feel needed.
I run out to the car, showered and ready for hair and makeup. “Hi, Lester. How are you today?”
“Very well and you? Are you feeling better this morning?”
“Yes. Thank you for asking.” I slide into the back seat of the black BMW. “I have a bunch of messages I need to answer from yesterday, so I won’t be much of a conversationalist.”
“That’s fine, Livianna. Do your work, and I’ll ensure you arrive at the studio safely and on time.” He shuts the door.
We drive from the house moments later. My mom and dad set up a driver for me since my schedule can vary. They have other responsibilities to manage, and I actually like it better this way for this exact reason.
Lester won’t ask me about my texts or anything unless I engage with him. I usually do because he’s so nice, but today I have to suck up my pride and apologize to Callum for being a brat last night. My throat dries as I open the first message.
Callum: Do not call me a liar. I didn’t lie.
My stomach tightens. Another one was sent a minute later.
Callum: Do it again and we’ll have bigger problems than a missed date I have no control over.
My heart rate kicks up a notch. The next one came in ten minutes later.
Callum: You think I wanna perform a bunch of fucking ridiculous songs instead of being with you? You know I hate that band. I would take you out if I could and you know it. Quit acting like I’m ditching you.
I bite down on my lip. Another one slid in an hour after that.
Callum: Now it’s your turn, huh? Nothing?
I open the last one that came fifteen minutes after.
Callum: Sorry, Lily. Guns just told me you’re asleep. I don’t wanna fight with you. I have an idea about Friday. Pretend you’re still sick the rest of the week. I’ll fill you in later. Call me when you get home after work.
I sink back against the seat and take a deep breath. The tension in my tight muscles releases. Thank God for Bren. He saved my ass.
I still need to apologize, but at least Callum didn’t go to bed thinking I was blowing him off. Especially if he was taking care of his mom.
My heart squeezes. My poor guy. I type out a message and hope it’s enough.
Me: I’m sorry for calling you a liar. It won’t happen again. I was high and confused. Can you give me a hint about Friday?
I’m not expecting a response for a while, so I jump out of my skin when my phone rings. Callum’s number lights up my screen.
I answer as I try to calm down. “Hey, there. Why are you awake?”
“I’ve been up all night.”
“Because of our misunderstanding?”
“No.” He takes a pause. “My ma needed me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing I’m not used to. Anyway, I have an idea.” His voice is lighter than a second ago, making me believe he’s smiling.
“Yeah? Please share.”
“Your ma doesn’t get back until Saturday, right?”
“Correct.” I peek out the window.
“So your ma and pops will both be at work on Friday?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Do you still wanna go out this week?”
“Yes. If you want to, but how would that even be possible?”
“Pretend you’re not feeling well for the rest of the week. Call in sick on Friday and I’ll take you out for the entire day.”
“But…” My stomach flip-flops. “If I call in sick and you take me out, people will find out.”
“Not if we’re in disguise.” He laughs. “Come on, Lily. Let me show you some fun.”
A huge grin forms. “I’m scared they’ll find out, but okay, I’ll do it.”
“Really?”
“Really.” I chew on my thumbnail. “Don’t let me get caught, Callum.”
“I’ll do my best, but even if you do, I’ll make it worth it for you.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” Something crashes in the background. “I’ve gotta run, but I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. I hope you get some sleep before you have to go to the studio.”
“Yeah, me too. Anyway, call when you can.”
“I will. Have a good day.”
“You too, Lily. I really gotta go.”
“Okay. Bye, love.”
He sighs. “Bye, love.”
He hangs up and my heart soars. I fantasize about our date all the way to the studio. My stomach swirls with butterflies. I can’t imagine what we’re going to do, but just being with him is enough for me.
I’m in the chair, ready for hair and makeup about thirty minutes later. Zara is in the one next to me.
She stares at my reflection in the mirror as the makeup artists do their magic. “You don’t look sick.”
I realize I’m smiling from ear to ear. I let it fade away. “What can I say? Good acting skills.”
“Uh-huh.” Her suspicious gaze stays on me. “What did you have?”
I shake my head a little. “A weird stomach bug. I still have it, but I should be fine.”
“Don’t give it to me.”
“I’ll be sure to keep my distance.”
Once her lipstick is on, she starts in again. “You have a kissing scene with Sebastian today. Does he know you’re under the weather?”
“Um… Production knows, but I’ll be sure he’s aware.”
“They’ll still make you guys shoot it, but it’s only right if you tell him.”
“I know, Zara. I will. You don’t need to worry about it.”
Her shoulders relax. “I heard Ur Boyz are having a concert at one of the little music venues here in town.”
“Yeah.” I peek up at my makeup artist, who’s applying my eyeshadow.
She’s blocking Zara’s stare, which is fine with me.
Zara keeps talking. “Are you planning on going?”
“I don’t know. It depends.”
“On what?”
My lungs grow heavy. “How I’m feeling.”
“Oh, right. You’re sick.”
I don’t say anything. One way or another, I will be at Callum’s concert on Friday, even if I’m in disguise. I start to formulate a plan.
Zara interrupts my thoughts. “Do you think you could get me tickets? Maybe even backstage passes?”
My gut knots. “No. They aren’t giving any out at this point.”
She forces out an entitled huff. “There’s not a band in the world that doesn’t give out free tickets.”
“Um… Well, I can ask, but I don’t like to.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want my brother to think I expect him to get me and all my friends into their shows for free. They’re trying to make money, so it doesn’t feel right.”
“Will you just this once? I really want to go.”
Something about her pleas isn’t sitting well with me. She’s too desperate.
I glance at her. “I didn’t know you were such a big fan of their music.”
“Their music? Not so much.”
“Then why go?”
“Have you seen them?”
If she’s talking about Callum, I’ll rip her hair out.
My blood starts to boil and race. “You seem infatuated with them.”
“Who wouldn’t be?” She fans herself. “If you get me backstage passes, I’ll owe you big time.”
“Why?” I try to calm my rapid breathing. “What do you plan on doing once you’re there?”
Her eyes gleam as her gaze sweeps the room. “I’d love to share, but there are too many ears around.”
“Give me a hint.”
She shrugs with a wicked smile. “I’d like to give one of them something.”
“What would that be?” My stomach turns into an iron ball. “And who are you giving it to?”