The Truth & Other Lies

Dear Hunter: From, The Girl Backstage

I'm in the midst of my hundredth sit up when I feel pressure on the tips of my toes and hear Ian's voice ring out. "So, I hear your girlfriend is coming to the show tonight."

"She's not my girlfriend," I reply automatically, grunting as I come to a stop and rest my elbows on top of my bent knees and look up at him.

We're doing a show tonight, a kick off to our tour before we officially leave to start the tour tomorrow, and I got Mia a backstage pass. I'm not sure if that makes her my girlfriend or not, though the tabloids sure think we're getting serious, judging by all the headlines with the words 'couple alert'. I guess the fact that I haven't been photographed with anyone else since Mia and I met is huge news. I'm a little surprised myself, to be honest. It's not that I get bored easily or anything, but being monogamous and exclusive hasn't been as difficult as I would have thought it would be about two months ago. Still, the term 'girlfriend' brings all kinds of fluttering to the put of my stomach and I don't know what that means.

"She kinda is, though, seeing as you aren't sleeping with anyone else." Ian holds out a hand to offer to pull me to my feet and when I shake my head, he joins me on the floor, crossing his legs beneath him.

I wonder if I should be concerned that he's so actively invested in my sex life. "I'm not sleeping with her either."

His eyebrows lift in surprise and this time I actually am offended at the implication. "Wow, you really like her, huh?"

"What are you talking about?" I scoff, though I feel my heart rate spike, despite the fact that I'm no longer exercising. I do like her, but the fact that Ian sees my feelings for her as unusual scares me a little bit.

"I mean, usually by now, you've sealed the deal and they're out the door," he explains, and I suppose I can't argue, because he's kind of right, "but you're talking your time with this girl."

"Yeah, well, that's kind of the point," I say with a shrug, "to prove that I can maintain a relationship."

He fixes me with a pointed stare. "Right. So there's no real feelings there."

"Of course there are," I reply defensively. "I'm not a good enough actor to completely fake it."

"Okay," he nods. "Well, be careful."

"With what?" I asked, intrigued by the mysteriousness of that statement. Ian has never been the kind of person who refrains from saying exactly what's on his mind.

"With how it plays out," he explains with a shrug, keeping his gaze direct. "I know all of this is part of some elaborate plan Bennet cooked up to save your image, but your image isn't more important than your heart. Protect your heart. Even if it means pissing off the entire world."

"That was strangely deep," I blink, impressed with the profoundness of his rant. We don't usually have emotional heart to hearts. Or we haven't recently, anyway. Maybe because I haven't really had too many emotions to talk about in the first place.

He smiles widely, uncrossing his legs and pushing himself to his feet. "I have my moments."

"Thanks, Ian," I smile up at him, this time accepting the hand he extends to help me up and deciding that maybe it's time I actually start to pay attention to my emotional health.

So I spend time with my friends and get my energy up before the show and three hours later, as I walk off stage to see Mia standing there beaming as though watching me perform was the proudest moment of her life, I know it's not the adrenaline pumping through my veins that has me feeling like I can do anything.