Want You Back

21.

"Um, excuse me, Jasmine? There's a call for you. They say it's urgent." Priscilla said after knocking on my dressing room door.

"Who is it?"

"They said to not tell you their name, or else you wouldn't answer. Just that they need to speak to you."

I turned my attention back to my reflection in the mirror, dusting some powder over my t-zone. "Then they must understand that I clearly don't wish to speak to them. Hang up on them."

"But they were very persistent, Jasmine."

I rolled my eyes; this clearly wasn't going to go away. "Fine. Hand me my phone, please."

Priscilla did as I asked and scuttled out of the room, closing the door to my dressing room behind her.

"Jasmine Chamber speaking," I said in a clipped tone, examining my nails.

"Jazz? Thank god, I've been trying to get ahold of you all day."

I jerked up, nearly dropping my phone. "Michael? Why are you calling me?" I swallowed, as I tried to find my composure. "This better be important."

He sounded relieved. "I just needed to speak to you, see how you're doing."

"If that's all, then goodbye Michael."

"No! Wait, Jasmine, don't hang up!"

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't. "Well? I'm waiting. What do you need?"

"Right! I, um, I missed you. And the boys miss you and-"

"Look, Michael." I cut him off, "we can never go back to what we had as friends. Ever. Being around you guys just reminds me of how you all kept Luke's secret and lied to my face for months. So, I don't care if you miss me or even if he misses me. He fucked up and he has to live with the consequences, as do you and the boys. Now, leave me alone and stop calling me."

I hung up, and the phone clattered onto my vanity, my head dropping into my hands.

"Jasmine? Oh! Are you alright? Do you need your pills? Should I fetch Audrey, or contact your old therapist? Maybe schedule an emergency massage? Oh, and we need the makeup artist back to fix your makeup - it's smudged around your eye." My assistant clucked as she bustled around me, dabbing at my eye makeup and offering me tissues.

I held up a hand, the other one rubbing the bridge of my nose. "Priscilla, stop. I am fine. Get the makeup artist, and inform the photographer I'll be on set in ten."

She nodded quickly and offered me one final smile before she rushed out of my dressing room, nearly crashing into Audrey as she went.

"Damn can that girl move," my agent muttered under her breath as she entered the room. "How ya holding up, kid?"

I smiled weakly at my agent. "I'm good, Aud. Just smudged some of the blue off my eye."

"Jazz, who called you? I haven't seen my girl this shaken up since the time those surfer boys from down under came up from under and we did the razzle-dazzle in the shake shop."

Even I had trouble understanding my agent sometimes.

"Um, Aud, what are you talking about?" I asked as the makeup artist appeared and began blending some more blue into my left eye.

"I'm talking about how you look like you've seen the ghost of Betty White."

"You know she's still alive, right?"

She waved me off. "Course I know! My grand momma was her agent back in the day, man could those two hustle. Love Bet, like a grandma to me, that one. Not the point though! Point is, whoever you hung up on - major diva points for that by the way, Hollywood loves a bitch - has gotten my grade-A client off her A-game. I need my girl to in tip-top shape for these promo pics!"

"And I will be. Just had to put someone in his place." I said, staring back at my reflection.

Audrey placed her hands on my shoulder proudly. "That's my girl. Now go! Show the world you're the craziest gal Gotham city has ever seen!"

I rolled my eyes at her playfulness and pushed her hands aside as I stood up. I closed my eyes as I smoothed out my costume, rolling my shoulders back - I needed to get into character. When I opened my eyes, there was a wide smile painted across my face and my eyes were large and almost animated.

I pushed open the door of my dressing room with a bang, gaining the attention of the work crew.

"Someone call a birdcatcher because it looks like there are birds of prey on the loose!"

Halfway across the world, Michael Clifford put his head in his hands.

He'd finally done it. He'd done what he had always thought impossible.

He'd finally, completely lost her. Michael had made Jasmine hate his guts.

Michael stared at his phone in his hands, silently begging for it to ring, begging for her to call him back.

And what made it worse was no one else cared.

Michael had surveyed his best friends intently for months following the cheating scandal, looking for some sign of loss, of remorse on any of their expressions. Luke had been forced to move on for the tabloids, putting on the front that he was madly in love with his newest fling, an aspiring model named Arzaylea - it was easy for the blond to move on when he had to pretend he already had. As for the drummer and bassist, they weren't in mourning either, despite having lost one of their friends.

He blamed himself.

Michael had of course known about Luke's sleeping habits and knew that it was wrong. But he also knew it would hurt Jasmine immensely if she found out from someone else - so Michael waited, hoping the singer would come forward.

But he never did. And the news had broken the internet.

The final showdown between the two was an intense one. Despite the news being out for months, the couple acted as if nothing was wrong. Until Jasmine exploded one day and all hell broke loose.

He knew he was to blame as well; as Jasmine's friend he was obligated to tell her, but he was also Luke's friend. He had been torn for months over it, and by the time he was ready to confront Jasmine and confirm her boyfriend's infidelity, it was too late. Michale was too late. And he would suffer the consequences of choosing poorly.

What was worse was he would never again have the opportunity to show the girl how he'd felt, all those years.

Jasmine may have been Luke's girl, but that didn't stop Michael from developing feelings for her. The problem: he was too late, Michael was always too late.

Whoopsie daisy this is lateeeee af. Good news though! Done uni for the year so i get 4 months off to write! yayyyy x