Even Heroes Have Scars

[98] Smoke and Mirrors

TW: Drugs, Alcohol

~ June, 2018 ~

Ansley's P.O.V.

Cody and Mark took Jacob out to show him around L.A. some, which took hours, but it was nice for me to have a break from everyone, especially as I talked with Demi..

Demi diverted the conversation after she told me about being on Disney. She seemed so nonchalant about it that I couldn't tell if she was really over it or still severely triggered by it. Either way, I thought about pulling from my savings for a plane ticket to go see her. She needed a win.

But that wasn't the kind of win that would help us right now.

She asked about my music. It was night time for her, and it was still vacation in L.A. for me, so I had enough free time to actually play my album for her, beginning to end. She absorbed every song, and I could hear her writing down notes while she listened, holding her comments to the end of the album.

"You know, this is a really excellent body of work," she told me, though there was pain in her voice. "I know I've caused you a lot of pain, but I'm glad you were able to make something this amazing out of it, and I'm so honored that you chose to share this with me tonight. It's so good, and I'm so proud of you."

Tears welled in my eyes as I realized that I was really about to release this album for the world. Years of hard work, trying to get noticed, and it finally paid off. This was the dream. This was everything. And I really wished I was with her for this moment.

"Thank you," I replied, unsure of what else to say in response to being showered with compliments.

I looked down at the call and noticed we'd been on the phone for over an hour. The last time we were on the phone that long was several months ago.

"I really fucking hate this," she said after a period of silence.

I laid down on Cody's couch, my phone on my chest as I spoke. "Hate what?"

"This distance. The fact that we broke up. The way that I can't even say what I want to say to you anymore because we aren't together," she explained.

I imagined her laying in the bed of her hotel room, similar to how I laid on this couch, staring at the ceiling as she said everything that came to mind.

"What do you want to say?" I asked.

"I can't say it," she sighed.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry. I just want you to hit the fucking undo button for Christ's sake," she demanded. "I want you to fucking care."

"I do care," I defended, slightly offended. "I never stopped caring. You're the one that never calls."

"I just..." She paused to groan before continuing a rant. "Fine, I'm gonna say it, 'cause I don't give a shit. I love you, okay? I'm in love with you. I listened to your album, and I fell in love with you all over again. You wanna know why I don't call? 'Cause every time I hear your voice, it takes everything in me not to wanna fucking off myself for causing this shit. I did this. I know I did. I can't change it. I can't make you understand, and I can't make you be okay with it. But goddamn it, Ansley, I'm in love with you. We aren't even together, and I'm still falling for you, and I'm still confessing shit to you, and I'm still thinking about you every goddamn day. What the hell am I supposed to do with all of that, huh?"

Stunned to silence was the only thing that fit my emotions right then. If we were in person, I would've grabbed her and kissed her. The distance helped me not do something irrational. But at this point, it was hard to decipher why we were even separated to begin with. How much of it was avoiding a triggering moment, and how much of it was me protecting my ego and standing my ground?