Chapter 3 #2
I bit my lip as I made my way to the stage, glancing once over my shoulder to see him still smiling at me. It was all I could do to hide the giddiness that flooded through me, so I turned back around to pretend like I was cool, knowing he’d be watching every move I made.
The band only played a couple more songs before the house lights went up, and half a dozen guys filled the stage, swapping out gear to prepare for the next band.
I watched as they swapped speakers and pedals, but the whole time I wondered if the bartender was still staring at me. When I turned to check, he was gone.
Oh well.
A sad smile plagued my face, but when I twisted my body back around, my bartender was on stage.
He caught my eye as he wiped his hands on his black apron, then untied it in one smooth motion and threw it on the ground at my feet.
He winked after he took his place behind the drum set, and I gave him a knowing smile the entire time, blushing whenever we locked eyes.
They played for an hour, and when their set ended, I chuckled to myself at the coincidence and made my way back to the bar for another drink, hoping he’d follow me there.
“How’d it sound?” I heard him say from over my shoulder, and I turned just in time to see him slip behind the bar.
“You know, I didn’t expect you to be the drummer,” I teased once he was close enough to hear me.
“No? What, do I look like a bass guy? You know, I’m not just a pretty face,” he mused, leaning an elbow on the bar. “I’m Jake, by the way,” he said after a moment, holding his hand out for me to shake.
“Ari.”
The other bartender set a beer on the counter next to Jake’s arm, and a knowing glance passed between the two of them.
“Thanks man,” Jake said, nodding once at the younger guy who ran off to take someone else’s drink order.
“Well, Ari. You look like you could use another one,” he said, picking the glass up slowly before holding it out to me.
There was a twinkle in his eye as he licked his bottom lip, and my heart skipped a beat at the way my name had sounded on his tongue.
“This one’s not on the house, though,” he said, letting his eyes drop to my lips.
“No?” I said, pretending to act surprised. “Not sure I can afford it, then. Do you guys take IOUs?”
He smirked as he leaned further over the bar, closing the distance between us to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Unfortunately we don’t,” he paused, letting his eyes drop to my lips, “but I feel like we could work something out.”
“I’m sure we could.”
The brush of his lips against mine was the closest to a distraction I’d had in months, and for the first time in too long, the memory of my red-haired violist felt a little less painful than it had before.
And finally, life was a little bit better.
My nights spent looking for someone to take the pain away turned into non-stop days spent with Jake, talking about anything and everything that popped into our heads. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t the girlfriend that was annoying or weird. I was wanted.
Loved.
It was too easy to change myself into something that fit into his life, molding small parts of me until Jake and I were two perfect puzzle pieces that everyone said were destined to be together.
The days slipped quickly into months, either spent sitting at “my” seat at the end of the bar, hanging out in the singer’s basement to watch band practice, or dancing in the crowd at one of their shows.
No matter what venue we went to, Jake never stopped smiling at me the whole time, and it made me feel like the most important person in the world.
And it’d be a lie if I said I didn’t like playing the part of being his girl.
The sex was fine, his friends quickly became my own, and for the first time maybe ever, I felt like I fit in somewhere.
It was easy to go to dinner parties and birthday celebrations with him at my side.
Jake wore his heart on his sleeve, and he was obsessed with me in all the ways I’d ever wanted someone to be.
On our second anniversary, he helped me box up all my stuff, and the entire band came over to carry my boxes on the subway, until the few things I owned had a place next to his.
Things that had been just mine or just his became ours, and I lived like someone who was happy with this life, because wasn’t this what I'd always wanted? Wasn’t this what I’d always dreamed about?
It took thirty years, but I found the person that was obsessed with me in the way I needed them to be, and I knew logically that I should be happy.
On paper, Jake was a dream come true, but deep down, no matter how many times he told me he loved me, brought me breakfast in bed, or proved over and over again that he was someone worth keeping… it wasn’t enough.
And the truth was eating me from the inside out.
No matter what I did, no matter how many times I pretended I was totally fine, I couldn’t stop thinking about him—my red-haired violist.
And my other truth was that I never stopped looking.
Instead of the hopeful giddiness that used to make my heart flutter, four years had turned my obsession into something dark.
Far darker than I even wanted to admit. My obsession had consumed every facet of my life like an invisible weed, wrapping its deadly vines around my throat until all I could do was choke on it. And I liked choking on it.
To Jake, I was the doting girlfriend who spent all of her free time on music group pages, searching for new opportunities for the band.
I had tried to hide it for a while, but when he caught me, I was forced to pretend it was all for him.
Now, I tracked venue openings religiously every hour with his blessing, passing relevant opportunities to the band to keep them busy.
It was easier to pretend I was doing it for them.
Easier to pretend that every favor I traded with every booking agent across the globe was for Jake’s success, but it wasn’t.
I built a web of eyes and ears to find my red-haired violist without anyone ever suspecting a thing, and my obsession had been nothing but rewarding.
Searching the globe for the man who possessed my thoughts had quickly turned into an actual job that brought in actual cash, and Jake bragged about me to everyone he knew.
To everyone else, I was perfect. I was the dream. I was doing everything I could to support my boyfriend every step of the way.
If they only knew the truth.
My dark secret lurked in the deepest parts of my heart, waiting for the moment it would finally rear its ugly head, but until then, the smallest pangs of guilt gnawed my bones.
I knew I should be doing this for Jake, but I hid it well.
Too well. Day in and day out, year after year, I made it work, hiding behind a smile because I was too comfortable to leave. I finally had what I’d always wanted.
I was safe with Jake.
And it just wasn’t enough.