Dirty Letters

A little girl caught my attention as I walked to the stadium door. I backed up and motioned to my security that I needed a minute. They hated when I ventured into the crowd, but I couldn’t resist going over to say hello. A few dozen fans yelled from behind wooden barricades that lined the walkway between where we’d pulled up and the entrance to tonight’s venue. One little angelic face happened to look a hell of a lot like Luca.

I bent down to her level. “Hey there. What’s your name?”

She was probably only six or seven years old and really could have passed for Luca’s daughter with her long, dark hair; giant green eyes; and thick black eyelashes.

“Frankie.”

“Frankie, huh? That’s a cool name. Is it short for something?”

She nodded. “Francine.”

Her mum interrupted. “She knows every word of all your songs. Seriously, we thought of writing to you to ask you to sing the multiplication tables for her.”

I smiled. “Is that so, Frankie? You like my music, huh?”

She nodded her adorable little head rapidly.

“Do you think you can sing me something? What’s your favorite?”

“‘I Stand Still.’”

Wow. That was sort of a heavy song for a little girl. Most people assumed I’d written it for a girl I’d been hung up on, but in actuality it was written for my mum. It was a slow solo ballad, and the lyrics talked about how I didn’t realize how important she was in my life until she was gone. “Can you sing me a little bit?”

The little girl looked at her mum, who prompted her. “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

Frankie looked nervous, so I figured I’d help her out. “I’ll tell you what . . . how about if I start, and you can join in when you’re ready?”

She nodded.

Softly, I began to sing the first verse. By the end of the first sentence, little Frankie started to rock back and forth with the biggest smile plastered on her face. She was really freaking adorable. I could easily imagine Luca and I might have a little girl who looked a lot like her. So I just kept singing. When I got to the end of the first verse, I stopped. “You ready to join me yet?”

Frankie nodded again. This time, when I started singing, she joined right in. My brows jumped hearing how pretty her voice was. I didn’t know why, but I hadn’t expected she could really sing. Her voice was tiny, but she sang in perfect pitch and had the sweetest sound I’d heard in a long time. I lowered my own voice to hear more of hers, and she kept going. Eventually, I stopped singing altogether and just watched her take it away.

The resemblance to Luca was really uncanny, and I thought my girl might get a kick out of seeing Frankie sing, too. So I dug my phone out of my pocket and motioned to her mum that I’d like to record and got her blessing. I seriously couldn’t have conjured up a better part of any song to capture on video to send to Luca than what unfolded as I pressed “Record.”

Since the day that you left

I felt a hole in my heart.

Going through the motions

Through the window I thrive

But behind the curtain I only survive

I hit the button to turn the camera around to face me and leaned in to join little Frankie for the chorus while holding my arm out to keep recording.

The world keeps spinning without you.

The world keeps spinning round and round.

The world keeps spinning, but I stand still

I stand still

I stand still

When I was done, the crowd around us started to applaud. I put out my hand to shake little Frankie’s and then kissed the top of her hand before kissing her mum’s cheek.

“You stay right here,” I said. “I’m going to send my manager back out in a few minutes to get you some backstage passes so you can meet the rest of my mates and see the concert from the first row.”

“Oh my God!” Frankie’s mum covered her mouth. “Thank you so much.”

“No, thank you for sharing your daughter with me today.”

I signed a few autographs on my way to the entrance and then located my manager to go run out and make sure Frankie got some VIP treatment. Since the sound check I’d come early to run through wasn’t ready for me yet, I headed to my dressing room and sat down to play back the video I’d recorded.

Watching it made me realize how much being with Luca had really changed things for me. I used to get a high walking into a concert venue filled with screaming fans, but now I got that same feeling thinking about having a little girl with Luca someday. Money and fame couldn’t buy happiness, and I was starting to think I’d trade thousands of women wearing my face on their chests for one woman resting her face on my chest at night. That was pretty fucked up.

But my Luca had had a tough few days. She and Doc had ventured out to get Hortencia some food, and she’d had a meltdown in the store. Apparently she’d had an easier time with little outings like that before our incident in Chicago, so she’d been feeling particularly defeated lately. The video was the perfect message to cheer her up.

Or so I thought.

I typed a text out before attaching the video.

Griffin: This little beauty’s name is Frankie. She looks just like I picture our own little girl might look. Frankie picked the song to sing, but the words couldn’t be more fitting for how I feel without you by my side, love. I stand still. The world keeps spinning, but I stand still without you. XO Call you after the show tonight.

I hit “Send” just as the sound tech knocked on my door. “Ready when you are, Cole.”

“Sounds good. Be out in a minute. Just waiting to hear back from my girl.”

I watched as the message went from “Sent” to “Delivered” to “Read.”

The video was probably a minute or two long, so I didn’t expect an immediate response. Though after ten minutes, I didn’t want to keep the team waiting too much longer. So I headed out to the stage. I checked my phone one last time before we started.

Still nothing.

Luca must’ve been busy writing. I knew how I got when I was in the middle of composing a song. Sometimes I’d go into my own little bubble, and making any outside contact would pop it. I figured I’d hear back from her by the time the sound check was done.

Though I figured wrong.

“What the fuck, Luca?”

I paced back and forth in my hotel room after hitting “Redial” for the tenth time. Luca hadn’t written back by the time my sound check ended. She also hadn’t written back by the time the concert had started, either. When I still hadn’t heard from her after the show ended, I started to worry. So I’d sent her a text to check in. Just like the video I’d sent, she’d read it but sent nothing in response. I also left her a few voice messages.

Could I have upset her with that video I’d sent earlier? Was there something on there that would have made her get angry or sad? I didn’t think so, but just to be sure, I played it back twice and reread the text that I’d sent along with it. As far as I could see, the messages were only a sweet reminder to Luca that I’d been thinking about her.

Since nothing should have upset her, it made my mind wander to even worse scenarios. I started to get nervous that something might’ve happened to her. Of course the worst shit ran through my mind.

Someone broke in and she’s lying there unconscious.

Yet my texts were being read. I supposed the intruder could be reading them. Though that seemed ridiculous for even my vivid imagination.

She fell and hit her head.

Again, was she lying there reading her texts while gushing blood?

Unfortunately, there was only one thing that made sense.

Her last few tough days were weighing heavily on her, and she didn’t want to talk to me.

A sense of déjà vu hit me. I knew this feeling. Eight years ago I’d felt an overwhelming sense of dread when I went to the mailbox every day and found no letter from Luca. We might’ve changed our mode of communication, but my gut told me the same shit was about to go down—my girl was starting to pull away from me.

The next morning, we had to leave by eight in order to get to our next stop. I was exhausted as shit, because when I finally fell asleep last night, I woke up every half hour to check my phone for a text from Luca. None ever came.

Clinging to a last-ditch hope that maybe she’d fallen asleep early yesterday and then slept in today, I waited until we stopped for our first gas fill-up, and the guys hopped off the bus to get some breakfast, to call in the big guns.

“Hello.”

“Hey. It’s Griffin. I’m sorry to bother you, Doc. But I’m worried about Luca. She’s not answering her cell—not text or calls.”

Doc sighed into the phone. “This is a difficult situation for me, son. I have doctor-patient confidentiality with Luca. Yet I care about her.”

Fuck, I was afraid he’d say that. “Can you just tell me if she’s okay? When was the last time you saw her?”

“I was with her this morning for an hour.”

I felt relieved she was okay, but my chest physically ached confirming she just didn’t want to talk to me. “She’s okay? She’s not physically harmed or anything?”

“She’s physically okay. You shouldn’t worry about that.”

I felt so damn helpless this far away. “I know you can’t talk about her issues. But I don’t know what to do. I’m on the road, and I can’t get there right now. Can you tell me how I should handle someone who has some extreme fears? What would you tell a husband or a wife who came to you for advice on how to manage someone with extreme anxiety who’s distancing themselves?”

“I’d tell them that it’s not possible to manage someone with extreme anxiety. You can support them and love them, but you’re going to need lots of patience if you’re in this for the long haul. When someone cuts open a leg, the doctor stitches it up—but it still takes a long time for it to fully heal. Even after months pass, there’s a scar. And long after that scar fades, if you hit that skin where the wound was, it will break open easier than other areas. Anxiety is no different.”

I exhaled. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Have patience, Griffin. I know that’s easier said than done, but I don’t think I’m breaking doctor-patient confidentiality when I say that Luca loves you. They say that time heals all wounds, but I think when the wound stems from a broken heart, love is equally as important.”

I nodded and swallowed. “Thanks, Doc.”

After hanging up, I sat around thinking for a while. Luca was physically okay and had Doc. I knew she was struggling and wished there was something I could do to make her better. But if time was what she needed, then I had no choice but to give her a little space and let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.

She’d been reading all my texts, so I composed one more.

Griffin: Hey, beautiful. I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you today. I’m going to give you a little breathing space, rather than call and text a million times and add stress to everything you’re going through. I’m here if you need me, and I have faith in what we have. Take care of yourself, baby.

I tossed the phone on my cubby bed and lay back with one arm covering my eyes. I was shocked to hear my phone ding a minute later.

Luca: Thank you. You take care, too, Griffin.