Beginning of the end

Part 31 [May 22, 2022]

The air stuck faintly to Blake's skin as she stood on the edge of the balcony. A tiny balcony with two hanging plants and a single lounge chair that took up all the space. Blake felt the uncharacteristically high humidity like a dreamer's blanket. Her hands settled on the balcony fence, a glossy black metal bar. Fourteen days. Two weeks A fraction of a breath from the life she'd wanted, and had thought she'd been living, and... the life she now had. In a way this was fair. She had wanted to be a musician, and be successful enough that she could focus on music and live from that. She had not wanted a relationship or anything to get in the way. Her priorities changed when she got in a relationship. They had with Ben, they had with Kiefer. Now things had ended twice, and he wasn't going to come back to her. The voice in her head said that at least a hundred times a day, lest she think she would get peace in the quiet from others.

There was work to be done, she supposed, moving back to the sliding glass door and the overhead hanging crystals. They shone beautifully in colorful reflections of sunlight. Blake stepped underneath them, closing the door behind her. The cold of conditioned air brought goosebumps to Blake's skin. Two totally separate worlds, divided merely by clear glass.

"You good?" Blake turned to the voice. Carla was sitting on an old green armchair, her body facing the glass coffee table, her head turned to Blake.

"Uh... yeah, sure." The truth wouldn't matter. Carla knew it, Blake knew it, but there was no time for it. Like a headache with a new baby, you just had to get up, no matter how it hurt, and take care of things. Blake knew that pushing herself was bad for her, but protecting herself was low on the list of priorities.

"Of course she's good, have you seen the charts?" Viv piped in. She brought out facts. Success was truly the only metric by which she judged, well, success. If you were successfull, you could be happy. If you were doing well, you had nothing to complain about. It was optimistic, in a way, and definitely driven. She had even less than Blake. No record deal, no band pushing and pulling her as needed. She had a little shared apartment with secondhand furniture and plants.

"..."

Despite the gnawing feeling of guilt and ingratitude, Blake couldn't find words. All of her words were busy bouncing around in her head, sharp was knives.

"You know, its a little more complicated than that," Carla insisted. She had approximately no patience for people poking at Blake in ways that hurt. Blake slowly walked over to her glass of ice water. She felt her stomach churning already. Cold water might help.

"I guess..." Viv answered, in a way that clearly showed she did not agree, "but... you both should be over the moon."

A contract, but no husband. A successful record, but no finance. A song at the top of the charts, but the man who it was for was wrapped around another woman. Blake's eyes were tightly closed, the cold of the glass in her hand keeping her only somewhat grounded.

"Aren't you?" Viv prodded again, her voice cutting into the haze filling Blake's head. One more voice, poking at her, while her own voice told her that if she had of just done something differently, she wouldn't be such a failure. How cliche. She could write about heartbreak now, and the fans would eat it up. She'd make so much money being a sell out, monetizing her feelings. It wasn't like that. Music helped her cope. Music was her outlet. Music was all she had.

"Blake-"

Blake felt her throat burn as a torrent mixed in her stomach.

"Are we here to work, or nag Blakely?" Carla was cutting in now. Blake forced her eyes open to reconnect with the scene. She was here, in this apartment. They had work to do. She wasn't fine, but she didn't need to be fine. She just needed to be functional.

"I don't know," Viv sounded cheerful, but her slightly lowered brows said that she was annoyed. With Carla, or Blake? Maybe both. "Is she planning to mope around?" Blake covered a wince by sipping her water. Carla was already glaring hard at Viv. Please don't...

"Excuse me?" Blake could hear the hip shift, brow raised, tight lipped look Carla was giving. Blind people could have heard the visuals Carla was giving, even while all that really happened was her brow raised, and just a bit of a lean. Blake drew her shoulders in tight, she watched the water in her glass slightly shift and settle. Please stop.

"... wasn't that clear?" The tone was pretty clear, but it was hard to think clearly with the nails digging into Blake's brain. "I mean," a sarcastic chuckle, "she has no reason to be down."

"No-"

The argument was lighting up. Like two rockets. They were revving, they were burning fuel, just waiting to take off and leave the ground in their dust. Blake didn't need this. They were her friends, even if Viv didn't sound too friends, and Carla sounded like she was going to swear off friendliness any second now.

"I'm down. Okay. Its fine. I'll get over it." The sudden confession caught Viv off guard. Blake still felt Carla's tense energy though. She knew Blake too well. Weren't they here to do work?

"Well... good, I guess." Viv was unsettled. She was younger, livelier. It was hard to empathize. This was fine. Blake didn't need empathy, understanding, or even patience. She just needed them to stay on task. "But why are you even down?"

She preferred to keep his name off her lips. Her lips liked him, but her throat burned at the mention. She thought back to the Halloween party, to the birthday party in the pool, kissing outside of Carla's aunt and uncle's place, their first date discussing the cabin he was going to build her in the woods one day. The same lake where they had scheduled their wedding. Walking around with nothing but the future on the horizon. It was all gone now. Not burned or decayed, simple picked up, and handing to someone else. Someone prettier? Younger? More convenient? Easier? Whatever she was, she wasn't Blake, and she got what Blake had had, and because she had it, Blake could not.

It took a good few seconds of internal twisting to even answer, "... Kiefer..."

"Which was fucking obvious," Carla snapped, eyes and voice directed at Viv.

"Chill." It was not a friendly word. Blake went back to examining her drink. "What about him?"

"He..." she all but squeaked.

"You don't have to explain it..." Carla gently suggested.

Viv didn't bother to wait. "What, the tabloids?

Blake swallowed more water, not bothering to say a word. Her stomach churned, her throat immediately parched. Those tabloids. Yes, and no. No, she didn't care. She didn't care if the tabloids slandered her or smeared her life on their pages. It was her life. It was the fact that her life was a mess that bothered her. She set the drink down, willing herself to recover. Carla had clenched her teeth, as was visible from the tense line of her jaw.

"They said he left you for some young chick. Is that actually true?" So she read the tabloids, but didn't believe them.

Blake flinched. "I... guess... he..." it was immediately apparently that Carla wanted to break something. Hopefully only socially, but that was still bad. "Carla, its fine." It wasn't, but this wasn't the part that was bad. Talking was not the problem. "He left. He is... dating and employee... of his... I guess... she is younger, yeah..." Her brown eyes stung, and her head was beginning to swim. You might think the water was tequila, but she was drunk off emotions now and nothing else.

"Wow. Really?"

"... Si?"

What else was there?

"So you couldn't keep him? Why?"

Viv sounded like a tabloid now. Blake looked at her, head tilting just so much. How could that question register? Why? Why? ¿Por qué?

"Ex-"

Carla was about to explode. Blake raised a hand, she couldn't handle two people fighting. One was enough. She was a punching bag for all she cared, but full combat was too much to ask. She wasn't going to try, because she physically could not stomach it. She couldn't stomach much anymore. "Stop. What do you mean?"

"He left you." It wasn't an appreciated summary. "Why? You seem pretty in love in all your songs." Curiosity and malice swirled around to make pretty colors. A sort of soft cream and a dark maroon red. Blake blinked, trying to focus on her face.

"... I was. I am..." It felt like a knife below her ribs. Attempting to pry them open and off. Maybe her chest could finally beat out of her stupid chest then. "I was... he was..." The real problem. "Then he... its been hard. I guess I just..." Blake pressed her palm against the corner of her eye. Tears were not allowed. She stopped them before they reached her tone, even as her throat tightened. "the... I haven't been myself." It was her fault. If she hadn't gotten pregnant, or not told him, or miscarried... if she hadn't been so sad. He wouldn't have pulled away, and she wouldn't have lost touch with him. The tears were threatening her eyes, and falling fully in her tone of voice. "I've been over thinking things... getting down. I... I don't feel... good. Or worthy, or... okay... ever..."

And so they lived miserable ever after.

"Blake..." Carla's venom was replaced with sorrow. The sadness that she learned to keep at bay.

"Wow." What? "That makes sense."

"What?"

"You have everything going for you, and you are still moping? You're a superstar. You have a number one single! You are making you. You are signed. God! How? How can you be ungrateful?"

There were more ways for Blake to feel like shit?! She didn't think it was possible, and yet, here she was, wide eyed watching a woman whose career she had platformed and highlighted, telling her how much she was the scum of the earth. Viv was right, of course. Everyone who insulted Blake was right.

But Viv wasn't right. Blake knew she was lucky. She knew she was talented, but also blessed, and she was glad for that. Grateful for that. "I am not ungrateful."

The reply was swift, "Are you kidding? Yes you are. You have a number one single! How many people can say that? About you! About your love life!" Did she think that made it better? "Your fans did it! It was personal! I'd be over the moon." Blake would not mind being on the moon. "You have nothing to complain about, but you can still mope yourself out of a boyfriend!"

Blake had to grip the seat and lean back. The sentiment blurred her vision. "He wasn't a boyfriend-"

"Yeah. A finance. A husband. Even worse. How could you be so selfish!" Blake pushed back a few tears that fell, allowing herself to turn off. "Just give the man what he wants, and be happy. You have everything going for you! Everything! How could you-"

"You better step the fuck off, bitch." The conflict moved in slow motion. Fire on one side, and a sparkler on the other. A laser against a flare gun.

"... excuse me what?" Indignance.

Rage answered. "Step off." This would not go quietly. "You don't know a single thing about Blake, clearly. Or love, or life. Or common sense." That amount of seething took a moment to recharge. The words could not be too quick. She needed time to load them with the right amount of hatred.

"Don't patronize me." Viv filled the airspace. "You're old for a musical start up. If the band was so amazing maybe we'd have been talking ten years ago. I know how to do well." She was dripping with her sentiments. Like amber condescension freezing green drops of venom.

"Says the busker." Viv should not try to pick a fight with an angry Latina.

"So you agree success is the metric?"

The question was condescending, the answer was dismissing, but cut short. "No-"

Blake squirmed as Viv and Carla continued. "I do though. Her man left her because she was just too sad." She didn't fake weep. She wasn't mocking Blake for being something, she was mocking her for losing. No she detested her for losing. "The world loves her. She's a POC, child of immigrants-"

"Not immigrants." Blake refused that. Her tone was quiet and passive, but she couldn't do this. It was like comparing a pharmacist to a drug dealer. Blake might not stand up for herself, but she wasn't going to hear her parents put on a pedestal either. She just couldn't let people claim something about her parents. If they were saints, she'd have heard from them in two decades. No, more. No. If they were good people she wouldn't have been set up to fail. The fire of anger warmed her cold limbs.

Carla uncomfortably looked down. Viv was angrier. She spoke about herself. How difficult her life had been. From birth to busking. She hadn't been cut breaks. She hadn't been coddled. Blake could have felt bad for her, but the burning kept her from feeling anything. In the end, it seemed fair to say she hadn't been led here on an easy path... and yet.

"Do you... know her backstory?" Carla hesitated in asking. Viv was not so poor off that Carla felt bad, but she it was something else.

"NO! No one does?" This wasn't a big deal to Blake, but Viv sounded... exasperated? "But she could capitalize on it?" Victim money? "She could do everything!" No. "Put it all away for Zelda?" Blake finally looked away from the trainwreck. "Put it all away for the band. Make it big. She could so anything, but she wastes it! People die for this kind of success! She's so selfish."

"You are disgusting."

"You are so entitled-" It sounded very much like Viv was going to continue, but Carla didn't stop.

"We're leaving." The lava had cooled down to ice.

"Oh, so you-"

"Bitch, you better fucking watch your mouth lest a woman who knows her worth puts you in your damn place."

"I am soooo scared," she sounded less confident. Anger couldn't totally mask that.

"Mmmmhmmm," Carla was finished. There was nothing past that point. "Blake, let's go."

"I'm," apologetic as ever. Blake tried to fix things.

Carla cut in without hesitation. Her knife made of words, "Not a damn bit sorry. Don't you spare the breath."

Viv snorted. Exhaled. Indignant. "Entitled bitches."

Again, Blake wanted to fix things, and again, Carla stabbed the scene with words. "Honey, you haven't met a hardship you couldn't capitalize on."

"Lucky me," Viv said, finally rolling her eyes. "I have so many. Unlike some of us."

Carla pulled Blake by the wrist with one hand, and raised a finger on the other hand toward Viv. "Peace." She proceeded to pull Blake out the door. It was not until they reached the street that Blake noticed how many pieces she had broken into.