I am enrolled in a Fiction Writing class this semester and we have to turn in three short stories this semester. I turned in my final draft of my first story this morning and since I promised a number of people that I would post the story on my page when it was finished, here it is! Please note that all characters are fictional...they were not based on anyone. Oh, and I don't condone the actions that take place in this story. So, don't email me and ask if I'm okay. It's just a story. =) ENJOY! PLEASE let me know what you think!
“I can’t do this anymore,” she thought to herself, sitting down on the cold floor of the stage. Looking around the large arena, she felt so small sitting there. The rows of metal folding chairs seemed to be endless in the dark floor area where the audience would be later in the evening. After glancing at the huge balcony that curved around the top of the arena in a u-shape, she realized this was possibly the largest venue she’d been to on her current tour. She used to love performing in large arenas but this one seemed to do nothing but add to the emptiness she felt. She pulled her legs up to her chest and leaned her head on them to block out the harsh brightness of the lights changing colors above her. There were about fifty people milling around on the stage and below on the floor, but no one seemed to notice her. She had just finished sound check so they were through with her for a few hours.
About five minutes later, one of the traveling stagehands finally saw her bent-over body when he nearly tripped over her in his working rush. “Miss, you okay?” the middle-aged man asked. She was tempted to scream ‘no’ but simply nodded her head instead. The man shrugged his shoulders and began barking orders into his walkie-talkie as he walked away.
Suddenly she felt moisture well up in her eyes. Not wanting anyone to see her cry, she stood up quickly and rushed off one side of the stage. She looked blindly around the hallway trying to remember where the dressing room reserved for her was. She always confused the floor plan of the current venue with the one from the day before. When she finally stumbled upon it, she ran inside, slammed the door shut, and slumped down onto the carpeted floor.
The tears began falling in such force that she had to take breaths to calm herself down. She realized that she was sobbing so loudly that she could probably be heard in the hallway. “Like anyone would really care,” she thought. Sure they’d act concerned but she knew that the majority of the people that surrounded her life every day didn’t know anything more about her than the fact they would be out of a job without her around.
She tiredly stood up from the floor a few minutes later and walked over to the wooden end table where her small cell phone lay. Holding it tightly in her hand, she contemplated who to call. She thought of all her friends back home but knew they were all busy with their own lives. She thought about calling her boyfriend who lived in England, but her cell phone didn’t have global service. She realized he would probably only add to her problems anyway. After staring at the phone for a few moments, she decided to call her mother, who lived in North Carolina. It was a last resort, but she needed to talk to someone who might actually care.
“Hey Mother,” she said with a little more happiness in her voice than she felt in her heart.
“Hello dear,” her mother replied. “Where are you?”
“Hang on and let me see,” she said, crossing the room to look at the city list that someone had taped on the back of the door for her.
“You don’t know where you are,” her mother asked. “You should always know where you are. What would your fans think of you not knowing you‘re in their hometown?”
“Mother, I’ve been in six states this week alone. It’s hard to remember where I am. I’m not even sure what part of the country I’m in right now if you want the honest truth. Let me check the city list. Which, by the way, I sent you a copy of. Okay. I’m in....wait, what is today‘s date?”
“You can’t tell me you don’t know what day it is,” her mother asked, incredulously.
“I just did. What day is it?”
“July twenty-third.”
She ran her hand down the list until she found the right date. “Okay, then I’m in Boulder, Colorado.”
“For how long?”
“Mother, are all these questions really necessary?” she asked, sighing loudly into the telephone before leaning against the door.
“I was just trying to find out where my daughter was,” her mother replied shortly, sighing the same fake sigh her daughter had just used.
“Whatever,” she replied, under her breath.
“Why did you call dear?” her mother asked before she could say anything else. “Shouldn’t you be warming up or doing some meditation to prepare for your performance? You really don‘t have time to just call and talk to me. You need to focus on your career you know.”
“I really don‘t know why I called now,” she replied, suddenly ready to get off the phone. Their phone conversations always resorted to this same conversation. Her mother had always been a true “stage mom” and she often took it too far. “You complain when I don’t call, but then you complain when I do. From now on you can call me when you want to talk.”
“That’s not what I...”
“No, Mother. It is exactly what you meant. You always say that and you always mean that. Goodbye Mother. Oh, and I do warm-up. Just not until time for me to perform. And I don’t meditate.”
Letting out a frustrated growl, she punched the “end” button on the phone and flopped forcefully onto her back on the nearby leather sofa. Staring at the tiled ceiling, she took long, deep breaths. They did nothing to calm her down. “What I need is a cigarette,” she thought out loud. “But I can’t smoke cigarettes any more. It will ruin my voice. A diet Dr Pepper would be nice too but the caffeine isn’t good for my system. I am so tired of being told what to do!”
She moaned inwardly when she heard the knock at the door. “Go away,” she mumbled under her breath.
“I’m coming in,” she heard a boisterous male voice proclaim. “Tell me now if you’re not decent.”
She sat up quickly and checked herself in the oval mirror behind the door to make sure she looked okay. She didn’t want her manager to know she was upset. Although he was one of the only people on the tour she trusted, she just didn’t feel like explaining herself to him right then.
He walked into the room with the confident stride that had intimidated her the first time she’d met him. “Where did you go?” He asked, handing her a time itinerary list for that evening and the next morning. “One of the stagehands said he saw you sitting on stage, then saw you race off towards here. Everything okay?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she assured him with a quick wave of the hand.
Her manager noticed the slight edge in her voice and frowned. “ Are you sure? I, and everyone else working with you, have noticed that you haven’t been yourself since this tour started. This isn’t your first tour. You’ve been doing this for over four years now. What’s the problem? This is your life.”
“Exactly,” she thought to herself, as she skimmed the words on the paper in her hand. “This is what my life consists of. Different cities, hotel rooms, venues, and dressing rooms a day. Different people pretending to care, wanting to be my friend just because I’m famous.”
Sighing, she looked up at him hovering over her and plastered a smile on her face. “Don’t worry! I’m just tired. I’ll be fine. I’m just looking forward to my month off coming up. I plan on spending every second of it either at my house, in England, or on a secluded beach somewhere. That break is just what I need.”
Clearing his throat, he looked away from her as he said his next words. “Uh, well. Well, actually. There is something I need to talk to you about.”
“I do still have a month off, don’t I?” She asked, shooting straight up off the couch, anger flashing in her hazel eyes.
“Well, no. You know that it’s about time for you to start working on another album. Lessons has been out for over a year now...”
“But you told me that I had a month off to recoup from the tour before I had to start working on the new album!”
“I know I did. It’s just the fact that we need to get a new one out soon. There are a lot of young singers out there right now. Country music is really grabbing at the pre-pubescent teens. You don‘t exactly fit that category.”
“I’m only twenty-seven!”
“Which is about twelve years older than most of the upcoming acts! You need to stay on top of the charts. Don‘t let people go too long without new material,” he replied, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. It was something he did when he was extremely agitated so she knew she should be quiet and agree with whatever he said. She was just too mad at that point though.
“I’m not working next month. This time off has been planned for weeks now. The album can wait one extra month. I need this time.”
Suddenly her manager’s dark face turned a very deep red. “You will work next month,” he exploded, grabbing his folders with such force that half of them fluttered to the floor. “Listen, you know I love you like a sister. But I will not tolerate this childish behavior. You have a contract. Plain and simple. You came into this deal five years ago saying that singing was the most important thing in your life and always would be. Well, then act like it! You will get four days off before you have to be in the studio. If you stop trying to be the authoritative role in everything, I will slide and give you two or three more days so you will have time to fly to London to visit the man you seem to think is Mr. Wonderful. Otherwise, deal with it. I will see you at the meet and greet in half an hour. Do not be late. ”
The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed in her head for the next few minutes as she stood staring at nothing, too stunned and furious to move.
Numbly, she picked up the acoustic guitar leaning against the wall and sat down in a nearby recliner with it resting on her lap. She distractedly played a few chords of her newest single, feeling the strings press against the toughened skin of her fingertips. She remembered a time when the feel of those strings could solve any problem she was facing. All she had to do was pick up her guitar and play and her worries suddenly seemed to vanish. Over the past six months or so though, playing the guitar had begun to feel more like a chore than a comfort. She loved music more than anything. Or she had until recently. She had been playing the guitar since she was in high school. She picked it up after discovering that she had somewhat of a talent as a vocalist. Having been surrounded by country music in her small Appalachian hometown, she quickly developed dreams of being a star one day. She worked hard on her dream, even while attending college, in hopes of at least getting a degree that could allow her to work in the music business. Shortly after receiving a degree in business, her dream came true. At the age of 22, she received a reply from one of the many demos she had sent out over the years.
At first, it had been wonderful. The fans loved her almost instantly and she learned that being on stage was one of the most incredible experiences she had ever had. She had always thrived on being busy, so the constant rush of her life was exactly what she needed.
That all changed after three years though. The past year had been difficult on her. She began feeling detached from her friends, who she loved so much. Her mother had become even worse at being a mother than she ever thought was possible. She was still dating the same man she had been dating for years, but the limelight became too much for him, so he rarely came to see her. He had taken a job in London after graduate school because of his love of the English culture so any time she wanted to see him, she would have to fly there. She knew there were many times he had considered calling it quits with her, but for some reason he stayed. She too had thought their relationship was going nowhere but he was the only person she had to really hang on to. She needed that love and attention, even if it was emotionless most of the time.
Even her music had become a job. She had never viewed it as anything less than perfect before. Now, she scrutinized every aspect of her life as a musician and hated every conclusion she came to about it. She no longer loved the screaming fans. There were only a few who seemed genuinely interested in her. She truly felt they all wanted to meet her just because she was famous. She also hated the constant movement she used to thrive on. A great part of her being wanted to just settle in one city and live a normal life. She knew that would never happen though. She would always be under the watchful eye of the media. She would always be the celebrity figure she had originally dreamed of being. She now knew it was more of a curse than a dream.
Returning her guitar to its original position against the wall, she came to a sudden realization of what she had to do. It had been in the back of her mind for so long that she had begun ignoring the idea. Now she knew it was her only choice and she felt ready to do it.
Her eyes searched the room until they found what they were looking for. It was sitting right on her vanity. Glancing at her watch, she realized she had to be in the green room for meet and greet. Taking one last look on the vanity shelf, she turned quickly and headed out of the room.
After the concert was over later than night, she returned to the dressing room in a hurry. Looking at the itinerary sitting on the side table where she had left it earlier, she realized she had ten minutes until she had to be on the bus. It wasn’t enough time. She quickly packed up her things, making sure the item from the vanity was placed securely in her bag. Looking around the room one last time as she always did to make sure she didn‘t leave anything behind, she closed the door behind her and walked out to her waiting tour bus.
Climbing up the steps, she was more than grateful that night to be the only person on the tour with a private bus. She usually chatted with the driver for a few minutes but tonight she simply walked past him and pulled the curtain behind her to separate his world from hers.
She quickly took off her concert clothes, changed into a tee shirt and drawstring pants, and washed her face free of the stage makeup that had been caked on. She went into the tiny kitchen with the attached living room area and picked up the telephone off its cradle on the wall. It had been equipped with global service for the sole reason of her calling London.
She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder as she searched her small refrigerator for a bottle of water. She was leaning in to pick it up when she heard the click of someone answering the phone. “Hello,” she heard her boyfriend yell into the phone. In the background she could hear the chattering of voices.
“Baby,” she said, suddenly rethinking everything that was going on in her head. For some reason his voice drew her in and replaced all logic she felt. Sinking onto the small chair behind her, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Oh. Hey.” He said slowly. “Listen. I’m having some people over. I’ll call you later this week, okay? Love you.”
“Yeah,” she replied, hanging up the phone without saying goodbye. Logic had finally replaced his voice. Knowing there was a slight chance he would call back to make sure they were “okay”, she left the phone off its cradle, listening to the constant beeping sound until it stopped. She was tired of dealing with the lifeless relationship the two of them were aimlessly holding onto, but she didn’t want to talk to him about it at that point. She grabbed her water bottle and walked down the narrow hall to the back of the bus.
Sitting down on her bed, she sighed and decided it was time. She pulled her dark hair back into a ponytail, then reached for the carry-on bag she had tossed in the floor. Her hands were surprisingly steady as she searched the bag for the container she had put in it earlier. When she found it, she dumped all the contents of it out onto her comforter and lined them up. She counted twenty-eight pills. She knew they would be enough.
THE END....please send me comments!! =)
