Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
LIVIANNA/LILY
Then
Splintered Hours & Hollow Rooms
Every second drags crooked, like the clock’s still ticking but the numbers don’t add up anymore.
“Why won’t Callum go see a doctor?” I toss my phone on the oversized chair in Bren’s room. “It’s been a week since he got this bug.”
Bren wanders over to me with a joint hanging loosely between his lips. “You know what a stubborn asshole Cash is. Why bother fighting with him about it? If it gets bad enough, he’ll go get it checked out.”
“Yeah, but I go back to work next week. If he doesn’t get better soon, I’ll hardly get to see him.”
“Quit being dramatic, Livianna. This is the life you two live. It’s always been this way and you’ve been fine.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” I gesture for the weed. “I haven’t seen him since we dropped him off. He won’t even let me stop by to give him a bowl of soup.”
Bren hands me the joint and plops down beside me. “Maybe he’s afraid you’ll get the same thing and that will screw up your work schedule.”
“I don’t know. I feel like it’s more than that.” My mind spins for an answer about what could be causing Callum to want me to stay away from him.
I take a drag from the pot, hold it in, and let the effect carry me away. Bren and I settle into a night of relaxation since our parents are at a charity function.
He picks up a guitar that’s in his room, starts plucking away at the strings, and sings random songs he’s made up. He’s really good even without the other guys.
“Bren, do you think you would ever want a band of your own?”
He stops strumming. “I’ve thought about it, but it’s not my thing.”
“Why?”
“I don’t get the same high as Cash does while I sing. I don’t need that spotlight on me at all times. What I love to do is to showcase the creation of all of us together.”
“What do you mean?”
“Like when I start out with a slow picking of the strings because it lets the drum fill be more pronounced. Or when I’m shredding because Cash is screaming his heart out. When all that comes together, I feel like I’m the backbone of the band. It’s fucking awesome.”
I fiddle with the red throw blanket I’m using to keep warm. “So you like to be the support person?”
“No.” He faces me head-on. “You couldn’t live without a spine.”
“What’s the connection?”
“Without me, there is no band. I’m the lifeline. The mood, the energy, the rhythm, it all comes back to me.”
“Hmm. I never saw it that way.” My mind travels to Lehlani Rose. I’m more at peace with her now, but I still have a need to right my wrongs. “You know, that’s how I see my fashion line.”
“How so?”
I bring my legs up and hug them. “Remember when I told you I was thinking about getting out of show business?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, my dream is to start my own design company. Maybe even grow it into a huge fashion house.”
He places his guitar down. “That sounds like a lot of work. And I still don’t see the correlation with a lifeline.”
“I’m not afraid of hard work. Especially when it’s doing something I love.” I pause to find the right words. “If I create my personal brand, that can live forever… If I set it up right, it would never die. It would become my legacy while allowing a part of me to shine on forever.”
“So it would be called something like Livianna Grace Designs?” He nods. “I think that’s the coolest idea you’ve ever talked about.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Somehow it feels like you.” He stands and waves me on to follow him. “I’ve never seen you as Ember From Denver. You hate singing and I’m not sure you like acting. I think you enjoy the power you get by being an actor but not everything else that goes with it.”
“I definitely don’t like the constant media attention. It’s worse now that whispers are circulating that Leon Baker is going to make Mayhem the biggest name in rock.” I follow Bren down the hallway. “Where are we going?”
“To get some food. I’m hungry.”
“What’s new?”
“What are these rumors you’re talking about with Mayhem? I haven’t heard any.”
“Probably because it’s coming from people at the studio. Everybody knows someone and since they know I’m dating Callum, they always ask about you guys signing on with Leon’s label. If I say anything, it gets twisted and printed.”
“Then quit telling them things.” He gets to the kitchen and goes straight to the fridge.
I hop up onto a stool on the other side of where he is. “Everyone seems to want Mayhem to succeed, but at the same time they want to see me fail. Why is that?”
“Is that what the press is saying?” He pulls out some leftovers and faces me.
“It’s the same old story. Somehow, I’m out to destroy my life while my boyfriend is trying to make his dreams come true.”
“It’s the usual double standard.” Bren puts the dish in the microwave to reheat his meal. “When a guy does something brave, he’s a king. If a girl does, she’s reckless and wild. The only time she doesn’t get that label is if she’s pure as the driven snow.”
“Yeah, and even then, she’ll be talked about as being stuck-up or being a selfish bitch.” I furrow my brow. “It’s not fair.”
“It’s not.” Bren glances at me. “I’m curious how you see building a fashion line will be any better.”
“For one, I won’t be on TV anymore and I’ll fade away.”
“Until you hit it big. Then it starts all over.”
“I get what you’re saying, but I don’t think it’ll be as brutal. It’s okay for a woman to own a company and work hard at making it successful. People honor that. It makes it more respectable somehow.”
“If you say so.” The microwave dings and Bren removes his dish. “I’m not a girl, so I wouldn’t know.”
“But since I’m an actress, an issue that may arise is the masses may think I’m getting all the perks from the success I have now. If I make it, people might think I don’t deserve it or work as hard. It diminishes all I’ll have done behind the scenes.”
“You sound like you don’t think you’ll ever catch a break.”
“I don’t know if I will. For some reason or another, I’m painted out as a bad person.” Maybe because I am.
Bren seems to be pondering something as he makes himself a plate. I spin on my stool and peer out the window.
It’s dark out. I laugh to myself because it’s how I feel about my insides a lot of the time. I’m full of blackness.
If I could only shed some light on what I need to lift from my soul, I think I’d be a lot happier. I discovered that through therapy. Too bad I wasn’t given the blueprint to fix it.
That thought takes me right back to Lehlani Rose. How do I ever heal and move on from what I did to her?
I slam the door of my brand-new blue Audi and march to Callum’s front door. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen him and I’ve had enough of the bullshit excuses.
He has no idea I’m coming over because the jerk quit answering my text messages two days ago. I knock on the front door.
“Come in,” Victoria hollers.
I enter their house, ready to give Callum an earful. That is until my fiery gaze lands on Victoria.
She’s on the couch, with Callum’s head in her lap. He’s asleep and in the fetal position, with his face pointing toward her.
She brushes his hair from his forehead with the gentle stroke of her fingertips. All my anger fades and gets replaced with an emptiness and confusion spreading throughout my bones.
She raises her finger to her lips, giving me the shhh signal.
“Hi,” I say in a pitch a little above a whisper. “I’m sorry I stopped by unannounced, but I’m worried about him.”
“It’s okay, honey. I understand.” She gazes down at her son and continues caressing him in a motherly way. “Don’t give up on him, Livianna. He’s just…”
“I can see he’s really sick. He’s going to get better, isn’t he?” My chest grows heavy out of fear he’s dying.
I have a sudden urge to cry. I point to the chair across from her, asking her if it’s okay if I stay for a little while.
She nods, and I take a seat. I glance around the room. There are tissues and medication bottles on the coffee table.
I peer over at him with my heart aching. “Did you get him to the doctor?”
“No. He’s been too…tired.”
“Then where did the prescriptions come from?” I gesture to the table with a tip of my head.
She peeks over at them. “John and I have a friend who’s a physician assistant. We asked him to come over and see Bubba. He prescribed those for him.”
“What’s wrong with Callum?”
“My sweet angel is in a lot of pain.” She shifts her loving gaze back to his face. “You understand that, don’t you?”
Her question comes out weighted. What does she mean by that? The room seems to shrink and the air fills with a low vibrating energy.
Did I have something to do with Callum getting sick? It wouldn’t surprise me if I did. This is what I do to people who get really close to me.
I lean forward, resting my elbows on the top of my knees and holding my own hands. “Did I cause this?”
“No, honey.” She runs her palm over his stubbly cheek. “He’s dealing with…migraines. His head is bruised and he needs to be around people who love him. Once he remembers that he’s surrounded with love, he’ll be better.”
I shake my head, not understanding what she’s trying to tell me. “But I love him and if what he has isn’t contagious, then why does it seem like he doesn’t want me around? He’s not even responding to my messages anymore.”
“Give him time and he will.”
I stare at him, completely lost. “How long do you think he needs?”
“Just enough to remind him he’s stronger than he knows. Once that happens, he’ll rise to all challenges. He’s not his pops. This is just a little hiccup and once he realizes we’re in control, he’ll get back on his feet. He’s just scared something will happen again, but it won’t.”
Another fucking riddle. I swallow my desire to shake the living shit out of her and just tell me what’s really going on with him. I know there’s more to this.
There has to be because even I know migraines aren’t caused by feeling unloved or weak. Or maybe on some level they are, but he’s neither, so it doesn’t make sense.