Decades

The Ugliest

Stevie was escorted to hair and makeup while Lindsey did an individual interview since she was running behind. It took a little more effort to make her presentable, considering she'd been crying off and on all morning, had spent the night before loaded, and was pretty coked out right now.

When she entered the room where Lindsey sat, he didn't glance her way. She spoke to the others in the room as introductions were made. She tried to watch Lindsey from the corner of her eye. He was devastatingly handsome and as cold as she'd ever seen him.

He was silent and purposefully looking everywhere but at her. Once her mike was on and she was arranged on the loveseat beside Lindsey, their legs practically touching, the filmed interview began. At first, it was a straightforward interview, the same questions they could field in their sleep until the reporter asked Stevie what the best part of working with her former lover was.

Her stomach did a little flip as she considered the question. If she handled this correctly, there was a chance to say something special about Lindsey to begin repairing the earlier damage. But what could she say? She'd used up all of her words trying to goad him earlier.

Stevie paused, trying hard to formulate the right words. She couldn't say anything too personal, but it had to be meaningful. She reached for her water, killing time, and took a big gulp. When she placed her water back on the coffee table in front of her, she opened her mouth to speak, but before a word could come out of her mouth, Lindsey was standing up. He was removing his mike and walked out of the room without a word.

Stevie hurried to remove her own mike and follow him. He'd gone into the men's restroom, someone in the hall told her. She couldn't have cared less and followed him in there. He was holding on to either side of the sink with his head down. As she approached him, he looked up and saw her in the mirror. He sadly shook his head as she held his eyes.

"Why are we still doing this, Stevie?"

"Doing what, Lindsey?"

"Why are we still in this fucking band together? Why are we even still crossing paths?"

"Lindsey, I can't speak for anyone but myself. But this band matters to me. You matter to me. I couldn't imagine not being part of Fleetwood Mac. But, more than that, I couldn't imagine not having you in my life."

Lindsey stared at her in the mirror with a blank expression. "You couldn't even think of anything to say when they asked what the best part of working with me was," he ran his hand over his face and looked down. "It was fucking humiliating. Over and over, you humiliate me. I'm so fucking tired of it."

"I humiliate you? Fuck Linds, I was trying to think of something to say that would fix things between us. I shot my mouth off earlier. I was acting like a brat. I just wanted a big reaction from you, and I was saying anything I could think of to get you to respond to me in some dramatic way. It was stupid. I don't know why I did it," the words tumbled out. "I'm sorry."

Stevie reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to turn him to face her. But he shrugged her hand away. "The whole world thinks I'm a fool because of you," he turned to face her, his eyes telegraphing his sadness. "The world is right. I've been a fool," he added quietly.

She clambered to tell him he wasn't a fool. The whole world knew nothing about them. He'd never been a fool. She was the fool. It was obvious they were both rattled. Stevie was desperate to make things right. Lindsey was certain his love for her had damned him to eternal sadness. Stevie made a move to wrap her arms around him, and while he didn't resist, he didn't return the gesture.

They heard a knock at the door and a voice telling them it was time to rejoin the interview. Their schedule was tight, and if they didn't hurry, they'd be throwing off the entire day for a lot of people.