Authors: Nina G. Jones
“I’m going to get some things for your puffy eyes.”
She headed for the door and stopped. “Oh, and sex. Lots of sex will help, too.” Mary Poppins ain’t got shit on Alana Roché DeMill.
She slipped out of the dressing room and I decided to collect my first piece. I had been yearning for it since I found myself in the dressing room. It was instinctual. It was a deep need I had convinced myself I didn’t have. But Ash ripped my heart out and he exposed everything hiding in there that I had suppressed. And like he once told me, I don’t know if we ever stop feeling like kids.
I cleared my throat and grabbed my cell phone, calling a number I hadn’t called since I got to LA.
“Birdie?” the woman’s voice on the other line allowed me to be a child again. I just wanted to fall down and let someone else to the catching.
I sobbed into the receiver. “Mom? It’s me. I—” the sobs stifled my words. “I just wanted to say hi.”
I had collected the first piece.
BIRD
I WAS HUNGOVER.
Not on alcohol, but envy.
Last night, Trevor proposed to Jordan. I knew it was coming, and I was happy . . . really happy. But my wounds weren’t healed and, like any wound, it was prone to infection. The sickness of envy had taken hold. It had been almost a month since Ash disappeared. He was here, his voice, his touch, his smile . . . and then he was gone. And with him, he took all the color and magic he brought when he came. I had made Ash’s world brighter, but he had done the same for me. I don’t think he truly understood that.
These should have been the happiest weeks of my life. Danse Nocturne had exploded and reviews were exceptional. With no commitment to Ash, I decided to go on the tour. I hoped the arduous schedule would be enough to push the agony of losing Ash to the background. But all dancing did now was bring my pain out like a bleeding wound.
Alana was right about how I danced with my soul, and that included all the misery I felt from losing Ash.
So I found myself on the roof. Alone. I never imagined I would be here without him. Nothing was the same without him.
I hadn’t visited the roof since he was admitted to the hospital. It was his space and sometimes it was our space, but I never felt the need to go by myself. The last time I had been up there was one of the scariest experiences of my life as a spectator into Ash’s descent into madness. I had hoped to return up here with him once he had gotten better. But he never came back.
The roof was a gaping hole now. The magnificence of the frieze that he painted in the height of mania was a glaring assault. I was surrounded by the story of us, but it didn’t have an ending and it never would.
It’s one thing to tell someone you don’t love them, that you want out. But Ash vanished. It was the closest thing to someone dying suddenly. Ash leaving me was traumatic.
I watched the sun rise as tears flowed down my cheeks, remembering all the happiness we shared up here, but like a parasite, grief latched to each happy memory, tainting them.
I was furious with Ash and at the same time, I would do anything to watch the sunrise with him again.
The cool night air quickly dissipated as the rays of the sun overcame it with its heat. The rays gleamed along the roof, highlighting the cacophony of scenes around me. I took one last look at them, wistfully and spitefully, and then I said goodbye to that roof forever.
BIRD
After saying goodbye to our secret place, I went back to my futon and caught up on sleep. My first new purchase with my new salary would be a bed. A real effin’ bed.
I woke up early in the afternoon. I had been so tired lately. All my energy had been reserved for the show, and pretending to be happy in front of my cast mates.
I drudged to the kitchen and started a kettle of hot water for tea. I didn’t even turn to greet Jordan when I heard him letting himself in. He was one person I didn’t have to pretend with.
“Hey Birdie.”
“Hey.”
“What are you doing? I thought we could do something fun on our day off!” He thought being extra cheerful might catch like a contagion, but it deflected off of my impenetrable sadness.
“I’m just gonna stay in and rest. I don’t feel great.”
He sighed and put his arm around my shoulder. “Bird, you’re never going to feel better until you make yourself feel better. You gotta live!”
I dropped my chin and shook my head. I didn’t want to force myself to be happy, I wanted to ruminate in my sorrow.
“I know it feels like the end of the world. It always does with your first love, but there is a light at the end of all this. The pain will end eventually.”
Jordan didn’t understand. I couldn’t tell him, not unless I was sure. But there was a possibility my connection with Ash would never end. My period was several weeks late. I was in denial, hoping each morning I would wake up to cramps. I couldn’t bring myself to take the test, I was too scared. A positive test would confirm I had lost everything: my love and my career. There was always the option to end the pregnancy to keep my career, but even then, the loss would take me to a level of devastation that terrified me. I was an unwanted pregnancy, but I was given a chance. I wouldn’t be able to end a child Ash and I created, even if that meant raising him or her alone.
“It’s not the same. We didn’t break up. I don’t know where he is. If he’s going to be okay. If he’s back on the street. I didn’t get an explanation. I’m not even sure if he really loved me,” I said jaggedly.
“He loved you Bird. I’m sure he still does.”
“Then why? You don’t abandon the person you love. You don’t just leave them in suspended animation. I can’t move on from it. I just keep thinking about it.”
“Bird . . . I can’t speak for him, but if I had to guess, he was in love with you from the first time he painted you. Maybe even earlier. I don’t think that love was the issue.”
The tea kettle began to shriek, breaking the conversation. I pulled it off the burner and poured myself a cup.
“Want?” I asked.
“No,” Jordan replied with a deep sadness in his voice.
I focused on holding back my tears. I had a television appearance tomorrow for a local news station, and I couldn’t have puffy eyes.
“Bird. You know him better than anyone. You know he adored you. I just . . . maybe he wanted to let you blossom on your own.”
“If that was the case, it’s pretty ironic, because I feel like I’m withering away.”
Jordan sighed. We’d had a version of this conversation several times since Ash left. I am sure he was just as sick of it as I was. In that time, I had lost some weight off of my already lean body, and Jordan had expressed his concern.
“It’s only been three weeks. You will get over him. There are so many guys out there. You could have any guy, well any straight guy, in our cast. Everyone is mesmerized by you.”
I chuckled at the absurdity of having anyone I wanted. How funny it was that I had become the object of everyone’s lust. Status has an interesting effect on people.
“I can’t tell you Ash is just a guy. He’s unique. He’s wildly talented and one of a kind. But his awesomeness came with huge issues. You really have dodged a bullet. You’re too young to commit to someone with a severe mental illness. Don’t you remember that night you found him? Do you really want to worry about that happening again? Did you really want to babysit him?”
“I know your opinion on that matter. You have made it abundantly clear.”
“You have to at least admit that he’s not perfect. It might be for the better. There is a silver lining.”
Silver. One of the colors he saw when I danced. Like the moon sparkling off a dark ocean.
Everything made me think of him. He left his mark on everything that was beautiful and good so that I couldn’t even enjoy those things any longer.
I shrugged my shoulders, dismissing Jordan’s attempt to find any good in the situation. I understood the logic. But the heart wants what it wants. It is stubborn. It fights and kicks and screams and aches until you give into it, or you build a tolerance to the pain. The latter was my only option.
My cell phone rang, saving me from further discussion about my misery. Normally, I would screen the call, but ever since Ash left, I answered everything, hoping it would be him.
“Hello?”
“Hi, may I speak to Annalise Campbell?”
“This is.”
“Hi, my name is Rachel Millner. I am with the Ellen show. Occasionally, viewers petition for guests they would like to see, and there’s been one for you that has gone viral.”
“There is? I had no idea.”
“Yes, it’s only been up about twenty-four hours and it already has over five hundred thousand signatures.”
“What? I uh . . . I guess I haven’t been online since yesterday. Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, I would like to invite you to the show. We would love to have you on as a guest. So I am hoping ‘yes’ is what you’ll say”
The few appearances I had since Alana put me up to the job had prepared me to accept without hesitation.
I had become something of a local celebrity because of Danse Nocturne and my TV appearances, but hundreds of thousands of people petitioning? It was unreal.
The news provided the first hint of genuine happiness I had since Ash had left. It also sharpened the fear I felt about my future.
Jordan and I did our usual squeal-dance celebration.
“Bird, it’s so good to see you happy!” He gave me a tight hug.
“I’m sorry I’m being such a drag. I am really happy for you and Trevor. You guys are made for each other. And you are going to have one million babies and a picket fence and all that stuff.”
“You’ll have all that one day too.”
I resisted the urge to debate his kind words.
“Okay, back to the fucking news that you just broke the internet!”
“I’d hardly call it that.”
“Get dressed. We’re celebrating with some pizza!” Jordan proclaimed. As I dug through a drawer for clothes, Jordan searched on his phone for evidence of this viral campaign. “Oh, I found something.” He began to read highlights out loud. “It says you are an inspiration and a testament to perseverance . . . Unconventional beauty . . . You dance with a grace that moves people . . . that you are a role model to young girls . . . I guess a teenage girl in LA started this petition and it spread like wildfire.” He looked up at me. “Bird, this is amazing!”
“I can’t believe it,” I exclaimed.
“I can. You better hold onto your big red hair. We are in for a ride with you,” he smirked.