RoomHate

Blind faith.

That was the only thing helping me get through that first month with Justin away. Somehow, I just had to convince myself to trust his actions and judgement, even though I couldn’t be there to see what was actually happening.

He called us every night. Sometimes, it would be during what he referred to as his relaxation time around 8PM, right before their 9PM performances. Other times, it would be during his lunch or dinner break. From what he’d told me, his daily itinerary was jam-packed with sound checks and rehearsals at each new venue. The only down time was after the show, and by then, he was roped into after parties or just plain exhausted. If the band stayed more than one night in the same city, they would all check into a hotel. If they had to be in another locale the next day, they would drive through the night and sleep on the bus.

There were two buses, one for Calvin and the main band and one for Justin and the rest of the crew. According to Justin, each bus slept about twelve people. I never asked him which bus Olivia slept in, because I was afraid of the answer.

Blind faith.

Okay, well even though I chose to have faith in him, I still discovered a little window into their world that would satisfy my episodes of paranoia. It came in the form of Olivia’s Instagram page.

Back when Jade lived at the beach house and used to complain about Olivia’s commenting on all of Justin’s posts, I searched his page to check out Olivia’s profile. I’d stalked her online occasionally even before Justin left. Now, each day, she would post pictures from the tour. Many were just scenic shots, like the sunrise taken from the bus as they entered a new city or whatever the band and crew happened to be eating. Other shots were of Calvin and his band backstage.

One particular night when Bea was sleeping, I opened up Instagram. Olivia posted a picture of Justin performing. It was just a standard shot of him leaning into the microphone with the spotlight shining down onto his beautiful face, which was framed by that five-o’clock shadow. It made me long to be there, to see him perform on the big stage. When I looked lower, I noticed the hashtags.

#LadyKiller

#JustinBanks

#UsedToTapThat

#ExesOfInstagram

Despite the fact that it bothered me, I refused to bring it up to him, refused to play the role of jealous girlfriend, especially when he hadn’t labeled me his girlfriend at all.

A knock at the door startled me. I shut my laptop.

Who would be coming by this late?

Thankfully, in addition to the alarm system, Justin had drilled a peephole into my door before he left.

A woman with long brown hair like mine was standing there shivering. She looked innocent enough, so I opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi.” She grinned. “Amelia, right?”

“Yes.”

“I wanted to introduce myself. My name is Susan. I live in the blue house next door.”

“Oh. Did Roger move?”

“No. I’m actually his wife.”

Wife?

“Oh. I thought he was—”

“Divorced?” She smiled.

“Yeah.”

“He is…technically. We reconciled when he came to Irvine to visit our daughter recently. It was supposed to be a one week visit, but it turned into three weeks. Alyssa and I ended up coming back here with him.”

Really surprised by this news, I said, “Wow. I had no idea. That is fantastic.” I waved my hand. “My gosh, where are my manners? Come in. Come in.”

“Thank you,” she said, wiping her feet and entering the house. “Our daughter is sleeping now, but I’d love for you to meet her as well. She just turned eight.”

“My daughter, Bea, is also sleeping. She’s almost nine months.”

“Roger mentioned you had a baby.”

“I’ve heard so much about Alyssa as well.”

“Roger also mentioned that you and he were friendly.”

“We’re just friends, in case you were wondering.”

She hesitated. “It’s okay if it was more than that. We weren’t together at the time.”

“No. It wouldn’t be okay. At least for me, it wouldn’t. I would want to know. I understand what it’s like to wonder about stuff like that when you care about someone.”

A look of relief washed over her face. “Well, thank you for clarifying. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t wondered.”

“I’m sort of in love with my roommate, actually. He’s currently on tour. A musician. I totally understand jealousy.”

She pulled up a chair and sat down. “Oh man. You want to talk about it?”

“Do you drink tea?”

“I do. I’d love some.”

Susan and I became fast friends that night. I opened up to her about my history with Justin, and she offered to help me out with Bea if I ever needed a babysitter. She said Alyssa would get a kick out of watching Bea with her. It made me thankful that nothing ever did happen between Roger and me, because that would have made things awkward.

I had to admit, when she first showed, finding out that Roger was back with his wife made me feel even more alone. But that selfish thought was quickly replaced by the happiness brought on by a newfound female friendship, something my life had been seriously lacking.

***

Susan and I hung out regularly. She encouraged me to try new things and to get out more. I joined a Mommy and Me class with Bea and started utilizing the daycare at the gym to be able to work out a few times a week. I was doing the best I could in developing a new routine with Justin gone.

The daylight hours were becoming more bearable; nighttime was the tough part. With Bea asleep and Justin busiest in the evenings, I always felt the most alone when darkness fell.

Late one night, around midnight, a text came in.

Justin: We’re in Boise. One of the crew members is from here and brought his baby into the bus before the show tonight. It made me miss Bea even more.

Amelia: We miss you too.

Justin: The tour is stopping in Worcester Massachusetts in a couple of weeks. What are the chances you could come see me?

That was only a little over an hour away from me. It would be the closest and only tour stop anywhere near Newport for the remainder of his time away.

Amelia: I don’t think the noise and environment would be good for Bea. But maybe I can find a sitter.

It was likely that Susan could watch Bea for me, but I specifically hadn’t told Justin about her for selfish reasons. I quite liked his jealousy toward Roger. It was the only upper hand I had at the moment. So, I decided to keep the information of their reconciliation to myself for a while.

Justin: I agree. It would be too loud and crazy for her.

Amelia: I’ll work on it.

Justin: It’s only one night unfortunately. The bus leaves for Philly sometime after the show.

Amelia: Fingers crossed I can make it.

Justin: It’s not just Bea I miss.

My heart fluttered.

Amelia: I miss you too.

Justin: Sweet dreams.

Amelia: xo

***

Since it was unclear whether I would be able to secure a babysitter in order to see Justin in Massachusetts, he’d sent me a laminated backstage pass that would allow me exclusive access in the event something came through at the last minute. He said he wasn’t sure he’d be available to greet me if and when I arrived. Having the card would be a safer bet in case he was in the middle of a sound check or even in the middle of performing depending on how late I got there.

I wasn’t going to know until the last minute whether I would be able to make it, since my only babysitter option was Susan. She happened to have an important appointment in Boston that day that she couldn’t cancel. Depending on traffic, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it back in time.

It was the day of the concert, and I was getting really antsy. I’d toyed with the idea of driving up there with Bea during the day, but that was no longer an option, since she’d come down with a cold. Taking her out in the freezing weather and to a crowded venue like that was not a good idea; she could catch pneumonia.

By the time evening rolled around, Susan called from the road to say that she’d gotten stuck in traffic and hadn’t even made it out of Boston’s Ted Williams Tunnel yet. At that point, I knew I would miss the start of the show if I were lucky enough to make it at all. I was honestly heartbroken. This was my one chance to see Justin for the entire tour. It didn’t seem fair.

Nevertheless, I had gotten myself dressed up anyway, continuing to hold out hope. Donning a short and tight satin blue dress with black lace accents, I looked more like a lingerie model than a stay-at-home mom. In the event that I got to see him tonight, I wanted to knock his socks off. I was, after all, competing with an entire world of models and groupies vying for his attention. That thought made my stomach turn as I curled my hair into long, loose tendrils and put on my matte plum lipstick. Something told me all of this effort was in vain, but I needed to be prepared to fly out the door if Susan ever made it back here. When the clock struck eight, it became clear I was going to miss his performance no matter what happened.

At eight-forty-five, Justin called right before he had to report to the stage.

“No luck?” he asked.

“I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it work so badly, but she’s not here yet. There’s no way I’ll get there in time tonight.” My voice was shaky, but I refused to cry or else my mascara would have run down my face.

“Fuck, Amelia. I’m not gonna lie. This is a major disappointment. I was looking forward to seeing you so much. It was what got me through this week. Of course, I understand though. Bea comes first. Always. Kiss her for me. I hope she feels better.”

We stayed on the line, the disappointment heard loud through our silence and the long sigh of frustration that escaped him.

I heard a man’s voice before Justin said, “Shit. They’re calling me.”

“Okay. Have a good show.”

“I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.”

Before I could respond, the line went dead.

Fifteen minutes later, there was a frantic knock at the door. When I opened it, Susan was panting. “Go. Go, Amelia!”

“It might be too late. The show will be over when I get there.”

“Yes. But you’ll get to see him before they take off, right?”

“I think so. I’m not sure exactly when the bus leaves for the next city.”

“Don’t waste time talking to me. Just tell me where Bea is.”

“She’s sleeping. I left a long note with instructions on the counter.”

“I’ve got it.” She waved me off. “Go get your man, Amelia.”

Blowing her a kiss, I said, “I owe you big time. Thank you for this.”

It had been a while since I last drove on the highway at night. The beginnings of a panic attack started to creep in as I sped up I-95. Trying to focus on seeing Justin and not the cars whizzing past me, I was able to keep the panic from escalating into a full-blown attack. The GPS served as my co-pilot because I had no idea where I was going. This part of Massachusetts was completely foreign to me.

Sweat permeated my body as I got closer. Even though it was cold out, I turned on the air conditioner for circulation to calm myself. What was I doing? The show was over. I hadn’t texted him. I told myself it was because I wanted to surprise him, but a part of me wanted to see what things were like when he wasn’t expecting me.

Parking in the large lot outside of the venue, I wrapped my arms around myself. I’d rushed out of the house so fast, I’d forgotten a coat. Running in my high-heeled boots—the same ones I’d worn with my Catwoman costume—I made my way to a tall chain-link fence which separated the VIP area from the parking lot.

Two black tour buses with tinted windows sat just inside the gate. A guard wearing a headset stood at the entrance. Groups of women gathered nearby, probably hoping for a glimpse of the artists.

My breath was visible in the night air as I flashed my special badge and spoke to the guard. “Is the show over?”

“Almost. Calvin is in the middle of the last set.”

“Where can I find Justin Banks? He gave me this access card.”

“Justin is in Bus Two. That’s the one on the right.”

My heart was hammering against my chest as I made my way through the gravelly lot to the bus.

I opened the door. To my surprise, no one seemed to be inside. That was what I assumed until noises coming from the back bedroom proved otherwise. There were several coffin-like beds on the sides, but Justin had mentioned that each bus had one master suite in the back. The crew and he alternated who got to sleep in it each night.

A lump formed in my throat as I approached the closed wooden door. The sound of a woman moaning could be heard from behind it.

The guard had said Justin was in here.

I had to know.

I had to open it. I had to see it with my own eyes.

My faith might have been blind, but it was about to get an eyeful.

Slowly turning the knob, I inched the door open a crack. All I saw was a mane of dark hair. A woman was riding him as he lay flat. It looked like Olivia, but I didn’t know for sure. It could have been any woman. It didn’t matter who it was. They didn’t notice me. My stomach started to turn and bile was rising. I couldn’t look anymore. I just couldn’t.

Exiting the bus, my legs felt wobbly. Too shocked to cry, I walked in a daze as numbness consumed me. My vision was blurry. My heart felt like it was cracking slowly with each step out of the bus. Was I an idiot for thinking he would wait? That he could withstand the enormous temptation being thrown in his face every day? He never made any promises, and that was for good reason.

You’re a fool, Amelia.

I would have expected to be crying, but for some reason, the shock seemed to freeze my tear ducts. My eyes felt raw, cold, devoid of any ability to produce moisture.

My phone chimed from an incoming text.

I missed you tonight so fucking much.