Page 23 of The Pursuit of Happiness
I grin even though it isn’t true. I still didn’t get the girl and I don’t think I ever will. I mean, have you seen the girl’s face when I flirt with her? She looks like she just witnessed a murder. I don’t share this though. Instead I nod, “Yeah, I did.”
Miles asks, “And when do we get to meet her?”
I shrug, “I don’t know. It’s still new.”
Nate raises a brow, “New enough that you guys already have a leaked sex tape?”
I give him a warning look and he shakes his head, “I’m not making a joke or trying to insult or offend her. I get it, it’s a sensitive topic. But seriously, you guys are all the rage right now. It’s hard to remember you just started dating.”
The lie that Steve and I told my bandmates was that Aria and I were seeing each other secretly for a couple of weeks before the tape. That way, they wouldn’t ask as many questions. We told them the truth about the tape for the most part. The parts where Aria and I were drugged and didn’t film ourselves, but that’s all we shared. Miles frowns, “You seriously can’t remember that night at all?”
I shake my head and lower my eyes, “Nope.” Every time I try to remember, my mind draws blanks. It feels like there’ssome kind of brick wall up in my mind where that night is and no matter how hard I kick at it, it doesn’t so much as crack. It freaks me out that a whole night is erased from my memory and I can only imagine how Aria feels.
Nate shakes his head, “I hope they figure out who did that.”
I nod, “Me too.”
“Is she okay?” Miles asks, concern for Aria in his voice. Knowing him it’s because he’s picturing his wife in her shoes.
I shrug, “I don’t know. I haven’t brought it up because I don’t want to upset her, but I know just from how I’m feeling that she can’t be feeling as good as she’s pretending.” I’ve wanted to ask Aria how she was feeling because I want to support her. We went through this experience together and nobody will be able to understand how she’s feeling more than I do. I just want her to let me, to trust me, but part of her still thinks I’m somehow involved in this.
“I can’t even imagine,” Nate’s voice is low, sympathetic towards Aria. “Especially with how the media has been portraying her. I’ve seen some nasty articles and comments about her. It’s fucked up.”
That, I think, is the worst part about the entire situation. I have yet to see one hate comment about myself. All I’ve gotten is praise for having a nice dick but Aria, who did the exact same thing that I did in that video, is being degraded and torn apart for being a slut. It pisses me off to no end. This double standard needs to stop and I have Steve working around the clock to help stop these articles and pictures from spreading.
“I just wish I knew how to help her,” I admit.
Miles reassures me, “You will. Your relationship is still new. Just give her time and make her feel supported and she’ll open up.”
Nate laughs to lighten the mood, “Who knew you were such a sap, Miles?”
Miles rolls his eyes, “Since I saw my wife for the first time.”
Nate makes a retching sound and mimics vomiting. We all laugh at him as he dramatically reacts to the idea of being in love. Nate is not the relationship type. The guy has the worst mommy issues I’ve ever seen and it made him swear off women for most of his life. Love and romance just aren’t in the cards for him. “Fucking nasty,” he scrunches his face in bitterness as if he just tasted the back of a lemon peel.
Miles shakes his head, “Shut up.” And then, in typical Miles fashion, he realizes immediately what we all need which is an immediate mood lightener, “Now, why don’t you two rug monkeys go get more whiskey because we’re out,” he frowns as he tears the bottle from my grip and flips it upside down.
Only a drop comes out and that’s when I realize I drank the rest of the bottle.
aria
I CAN’T SLEEP. THAT’S something I never would’ve thought would come out of my mouth considering I am a nap girl forever, but I can’t sleep for the life of me. The reason I can’t sleep can be put into two small, very non-simplistic words; Slater Nicks.
My mind has been going a thousand miles a minute recounting every detail of our fake date. I haven’t enjoyed myself that much since before the whole sex tape scandal, another thing keeping me up but we don’t talk about that.
I felt energized when I came home from our date, alive in a way I haven’t in a while. I feel like live wire and the electricity needs to funnel out of me and into something else. Hence why I’ve been writing lyrics for the last four hours. I have lyrics for about three songs on the new album and the words just can’t stop coming out of me. Usually when I write the lyrics, they’re playful and the purpose behind them is to leave the audienceamused, entertained, and wanting more. This stuff I’ve been writing is entirely new and like nothing I’ve ever written.
I read over every word and question whether or not the girls will like this new emotion I’m putting into our music. It’s darker and maybe even a little depressing, but I like it. Maybe what I like more is the fact that writing lyrics is giving me an outlet to release what I’m feeling inside but don’t have the gall to admit to my friends. The truth is, I’m in a dark fucking place. I just don’t want to admit that to my friends because I’m admittedly stubborn and don’t want to appear weak. I know it’s okay to not be okay but what can my friends tell me anyway? They can’t tell me they understand how I feel because they don’t. None of them have been in this situation and I pray they never have to be.
My pen nearly runs out of ink as I jot down the last word in this verse I’m writing and I chuck it over my shoulder and hear it clatter somewhere on the floor of my room. I read over the last verse I’ve written and nod as I start to hear a guitar melody in my head to accompany the words.
I am stripped of all my pride
My world has all but died
And I know that I can’t hide
But I have still cried
