Page 100 of The Next Chapter

I worked at everything, even the apartment. If something needed fixin’, I did it myself. You don’t live in a falling down house without learning a thing or two about sorting it out yourself. Ma wouldn’t have ever called a plumber or anything like that.

One morning I was fixing the tap in the kitchen and when I sat up, Ashton was there. I must have been all red faced. Some days, I wondered that I was half in love with him, he was always making me laugh.

It was… a good time. I’d never been real excited for the future when I was young. But I was now, for the very first time. I guess we were all caught up in it, in this idea that we’d be superstars.

When no one else was around, Jimmy would tell me that I was the special one, that the band would be nothing without me. I’d never been special to anyone, not in a good way, and I liked it, though it’s shameful to admit it now. I liked being special.

Jimmy arranged for us to go on MTV the week our first single was released. They dressed me up in this orange dress that was so tight and short, I remember thinking that the Merrywells would have had a coronary. I hated that dress. There was glitter all over my face too, making my skin itch. I don’t know that I was nervous, I think I’d gone beyond nerves. I was numb to it all. It felt like it was happenin’ to someone else. I still felt like I was there by mistake, even then.

We’d practised so much that I didn’t even have to think about what I was doing while I was on stage. It took me a few moments at the end to realize that everyone was cheering. Ashton was jumping up and down next to me, Prune and Shawn too. And the audience were deafening. The loudest thing I’d ever heard.

It’s intoxicating, people clapping and cheering for you. Addictive. Anyone who says otherwise is lying.

It went quickly after that. We went from acting famous to being famous. Those first months it felt like we were the most famous people in the whole entire world. We never stopped moving, no matter how tired we got. There was always some other high to chase. I’d think jeez, I just met the president! And then the next week we’d see Prince Charles at a charity gala. We were always on display, always performin’.

I didn’t know then what I know now. ’Bout how it costs you, performing like that. Living under a scrutiny of sorts. Or maybe it doesn’t cost everyone. Some folks thrive off of it, I dare say. But it cost me. It cost me so much.

* * *

Lola stops talking and I realize that she’s done for today. This is what I expected to hear, stories about her performing, being famous.

‘It sounds like a wild time,’ I tell her.

‘It was different to old town Baton Rouge, put it that way.’ She smiles.

‘Do you miss it? Or do you think you would if it hadn’t… cost you?’ I ask, repeating her words.

Lola thinks for a second. ‘Sometimes. Or maybe what I miss is the feeling of possibilities. It felt like anything was possible then. Course it wasn’t. I was still me, but it was a nice feeling. Plus, there’s a lot I’m not proud of from back then.’

I pause a second, not entirely sure what to say.

‘Things are still possible now,’ I tell her in the end.

‘Are they?’

I don’t know what she’s asking.

Or why the air feels so heavy all of a sudden.

‘If you want to stay a moment, I could bring us some lunch out here. It’s such a nice day,’ she says.

I don’t even think. ‘That would be nice, thanks Lola.’

Lola stands up, dislodging the chicken who’s fallen asleep next to her. Or at least, I think it’s fallen asleep. I do wonder how anyone will know the difference between it being asleep and dead.

I take the chance to text Seb.

Me: Guess who’s having a picnic with Lola!

Seb: If it’s not you, that was a seriously misleading message.

Me: It is me!

Seb: Such a nauseatingly uplifting tale. Families reuniting. Warms my cold, dead heart.

Me: Except Lola doesn’t know that we’re reuniting.

Seb: She still hasn’t dropped the B bomb, then?