The Silent Waters (29 page)

“I Skyped with him earlier, and he was telling me how he stumbled across a band on YouTube called
Romeo’s Quest. Total indie underground brilliant vibe. He sent me a link to their music, and I literally fell backward, so I’m passing it on now because I
know
it was made for
you
. I’ll link it below. And get this: all their songs are based on Shakespeare plays!”

You don’t know anything about Shakespeare.

“I know, Maggie, but that’s not the point! The point is that it’s different and raw and…” She paused. “
To be or not to be, that is the question!
See! I know some Shakespeare! I’m a college graduate, missy.”

What play is that from?

“Ohmygosh, what is this? Twenty questions? Get off my invisible dick, sister! Anyway, after our call listen to their music. I think Calvin is trying to set something up for the band—some kind of pay-it-forward deal, seeing how they were discovered online.”

Very cool.

“I spoke to Brooks, too,” Cheryl said, making me tilt my head. I tried to ignore the flipping in my stomach.

Is he well?

“Yeah. He looks really good. Happy, ya know? Just tired. He has this crazy facial hair thing going on, as if he hasn’t shaved in years, or something. It turns out it’s only been a few months, but it looks good on him. He looks grown up.”

And happy?

She nodded. “And happy.”

Good. Good.
I wanted him to be happy. He deserved to be happy.

After I’d found out he was with Sasha, I couldn’t keep writing him. It hurt too much to know that when he received my books, she could’ve been sitting right beside him. And that wouldn’t have been fair to her, either.

I closed my eyes, trying to envision his new look. The last time I’d seen him was when I watched the Grammys and the band won the Album of the Year award. He looked happy there, too, almost as if his dreams were fully unlocked and achieved.

“Are you happy, Maggie?” my sister asked.

I smiled and nodded, yet she didn’t notice me knock once on my leg beneath the table.

Happiness was hard to find alone in my bedroom, especially when the one you loved was out loving someone else.

As Cheryl and I spoke, Mama started shouting. “I didn’t break it, Eric! I was trying to fix it. You said you would weeks ago and never got around to it.”

“I told you not to mess with it. Now you screwed it up more,” Daddy barked back.

Cheryl frowned. “What is it they are fighting about this time?”

The dishwasher.

She didn’t ask any more questions. Mama and Daddy only had two versions of their relationship: the silent version, and the angered version.

If they weren’t mute, they were screaming.

If they weren’t screaming, they passed one another like ghosts.

Cheryl and I spoke for a bit more before she started yawning and headed to bed.

After we ended the call, I started playing Romeo’s Quest’s videos on YouTube. I tapped my fingers against my stomach, listening to the instrumentals wash over me. Cheryl understood my head and my soul, and when the lead singer started singing, I felt it—an arrow to my heart.

I listened to every video they had online, over and over again. My favorite song was “Broken Nightmares” because it was sad, but somehow hopeful.

Find me in the dark because that’s where I live

Open up your heart and let the shadows in

I blinked my eyes a few times, trying to envision what the band had been feeling when they wrote those lyrics, those words. Music was one of the best reminders that I was never alone in this world. It was that powerful moment when I heard the sounds and the lyrics. It seemed as if the artist crawled into my lonely head and created the song solely for me, reminding me that somewhere out there, there was someone feeling exactly as I was feeling.

I was sure Brooks would’ve loved them.

“Birmingham, you have been amazing tonight! We are The Crooks, and we thank you for allowing us to steal your hearts tonight,” Calvin shouted into the microphone at our second sold-out show in Birmingham, England—over sixteen thousand tickets sold, over sixteen thousand fans screaming our names and singing our lyrics.

I was sure it would never get old, standing in front of people who allowed you to live your dream out loud.

The four of us had been living our dreams for the past ten years, starting as an opening act for our favorite band, and now as the main event. Our lives were far from normal.

“Also, shooting a happy birthday to my partner in crime who turned twenty-eight today. Happy birthday, Calvin! The world’s a bit drunker because your voice exists.” The crowd cheered, screaming for an encore, which we weren’t allowed to do because time was money, and money was something management hated to waste.

We all rushed offstage and I crashed into my dressing room, just to have Michelle, my personal assistant, immediately coming at me with a list of radio and television appearances scheduled for the upcoming week.

“Great show tonight, Brooks,” she said, smiling and juggling her iPad, iPhone, and a pack of Skittles in her hands. “So tonight, there’s an after party at Urban.”

“The same Urban from last year where somehow Rudolph ended up in a fist-fight over tuna being made with dolphin meat?” I questioned, walking over to my sink and grabbing a wet cloth to wash my face.

“That’s the one. They’re throwing Calvin’s birthday party tonight.”

I sighed. I hated clubs, but I loved my best friend. “Therefore I have to be there.”

“You have to be there, at least for photos, then you can dip out whenever. In the morning, you gotta be at KISS 94.3 by five for the radio interview. After that we shuffle over to The Morning Blend at seven, at nine we will go to The Mix 102.3 for a live stream radio shoot, and then by twelve we are meeting at Craig Simon’s talk show. Back to the arena at three for sound check, meet and greet four-thirty to six, then dinner with the opening act where there will be a photoshoot with a few reporters before the show at eight. Any questions?”

“Um, yeah, when do I get to sleep?”

She snickered and began typing on her phone. “You know my motto, Brooks—”

“We can sleep when we’re six feet under,” I replied, echoing her words. I sat down in my chair and lifted up the package I had put together that afternoon before the show. “Can you find a post office to mail this off tomorrow?”

Michelle scowled. “When am I supposed to find time to do that?”

I smirked. “You know my motto: why not find a reason to visit a post office each day?”

“That’s not your motto, but I’ll do it.” She snatched the book from my hand, and narrowed her eyes at me. “Does it bother you?”

“Does what bother me?”

“That she never sends books back anymore?”

Maggie hadn’t sent me a book since the year before when I told her I was seeing Sasha. Did it bother me? Every single day. Did I miss the pink Post-its? Every single day. Would I ever let on that it hurt? Never. “Nah. I’m not really expecting any kind of reply anymore.”

“You must’ve done something awful to make her stop.”

“What makes you think it was my fault?”

She smiled. “The penis in your pants.” She started walking off toward the door to leave. “I really hope whoever this book girl is has a huge
Beauty and The Beast
-style library, because she’ll need it with all the books you’ve sent her way lately. You’ve got twenty minutes to shower and wash up before we head over to Urban.” With that, she was gone.

I sat in front of my mirror and breathed in all my changes. I had bags under my eyes at the age of twenty-eight, not small bags, very noticeable bags that our makeup artist was so good at hiding. My arms were inked up from my younger days of drunken tattoos while doing concerts around the U.S., and my constantly growing beard was longer than it should’ve been, but my manager, Dave, told me beards were in and he therefore refused to let me shave.

I wondered what Maggie would’ve thought of my hairy face.

I wondered what Maggie would’ve thought about me.

I wondered if I ever crossed her mind the way she always seemed to cross mine.

“Hey, hairy monster,” a voice said, breaking me from my thoughts. The moment I swung around in my chair to see Sasha, I felt guilt. I hated when my mind wandered to Maggie May when Sasha was around. It didn’t seem fair to anyone.

Sasha walked over to me and sat in my lap. “Tonight was amazing. You’re amazing,” she whispered, kissing my nose. The guilt was fast to fade whenever Sasha came near me. She was beautiful, not only in her looks, but in her kindness. You didn’t find many people as gentle as her in the realm of fame.

“Thanks,” I replied, kissing her chin. “We have to make an appearance at Urban tonight.”

She groaned, hating clubs as much as I did. “Seriously? I was hoping we could go back to the hotel, turn on the whirlpool, and order room service.”

“Oh, don’t tempt me.”

Her lips glided against mine. She tasted like red wine, her favorite drink of choice backstage whenever she was able to fly out to catch one of our shows.

“I fly out in the morning. I have a photoshoot in Los Angeles, then a runway show in New York.”

“You
just
got here a few days ago,” I complained. Since the tour had started, Sasha and I had only seen each other a handful of times, but we always found a few minutes to FaceTime each night. She’d flown to Birmingham four days before, and even though we were in the same city, I still had to run around all the time. It wasn’t fair to our relationship, but Sasha knew what it was like. I’d flown out to see her during my breaks, but she’d been working on her career just as hard as I had been on mine.

“I know. I miss you. I miss you even when you’re right here.”

I pulled her closer in my lap and rested my head on her forehead. “How about this? How about we make a quick stop at Urban, for an hour or so, then go back to the hotel and pull an all-nighter eating room service in the whirlpool?”

Her body stiffened up and a pleasant smile formed on her lips. “Don’t you have a busy day tomorrow? When will you sleep?”

“I can sleep when I’m six feet under,” I joked, mocking Michelle. “But seriously. I’d rather be tired because I got to spend time with you than fully rested any day.”

Her hands fell against my cheeks, and she bent forward to kiss me. “I’m wild about you, Mr. Griffin. Now come on, you go shower and get ready for tonight.”

We made our way to Urban and stayed an hour and thirty minutes—longer than we thought we had planned to stay, but it was worth it. Calvin had the time of his life, and it was the best feeling in the world, seeing him happy. Stacey was right there on his arm, too, the same place she’d been since eighth grade.

There was something about Sasha and me when we went out together—people noticed us. We were the life of every event; we laughed, we drank, we danced. Our mouths were always moving nonstop, chatting it up with people, and we had a way of finishing each other’s sentences. Being social with Sasha Riggs was effortless. We gelled together so well it was impossible for anyone to doubt we had been destined to meet one another over a year ago.