Not This Time

Jon: September 30, 1987

     The interviewer had a limp handshake. He gave me one last wave and I returned it as he stepped out of the restaurant. With a sigh of relief, I dropped my hand and my smile. My sushi roll was only half gone, but I was more than ready to finish it. Everyone else was sharing Sake and stuffing their faces when I sat down to the rest of my roll. Everyone else, I noticed, except Reg.
     I looked around the small restaurant. He couldn't be far; it was literally his job to keep an eye on us. At first it was just people, nobody I knew. I heard his voice before I saw him. The sound led my gaze to the payphone by the fish tank in the corner opposite our table. Of course, Reg was on the line, most likely with The Bozz. He did not look pleased. I stuffed a bite of sushi in my mouth and got up from the table again.
     As I approached, Reg looked up at me and turned back toward the receiver. I leaned on the wall, patiently chewing my sushi and waiting for him to finish. I knew he'd probably only called to get an updated itinerary, but it appeared more like he was getting an earful.
     "Alright," he mumbled, "Yes sir. Don't worry, I will." There was a pause and then, "Yeah." With that, he set the phone down on the receiver a little heavier than gently and turned back to me. "You need something?"
     I nodded toward the phone, "Was that The Bozz?" Reg nodded. "What'd he say?"
     "He's pretty pissed. Apparently your girlfriend didn't show up for set up," Reg explained, crossing his arms. I felt myself pause. So he did know. Or was he guessing? I could feel him expecting me to give it up. I could see it in his face. He was trying to trap me, trying to get me to say it.
     I drew my eyebrows together in supposed confusion. "You talking about Nina? She's not my girlfriend," I lied with ease, keeping my voice even. I'd had a lot of practice with lying over the past year and a half. I just had to keep reminding myself that it was only a week away when I wouldn't have to anymore. Regardless, it was troubling that Nina wasn't there. "And what do you mean she didn't show up? Nina's the most punctual person on the whole tour."
     "I mean she didn't show up!" he repeated, leaning on the wall next to me. "She's not there. Bozzett's talking about having Gunther do sound check." Reg took in a deep breath, and shook his head as he let out a knowing, "He's not happy."
     All I could do was frown. I couldn't imagine The Bozz would fire her since this was really the first time she'd ever been late, but still..it was really unlike her. Maybe she'd overslept. She could have been jetlagged. That was the only conclusion I could come to. I had to get her up and moving.
     "Well I came over here to tell you I need to go back to the hotel anyway," I lied yet again, "I forgot my jacket. I don't go onstage without it. I gotta go back and get it, so we can pick up Nina while we're there."
     Reg looked at my like I was crazy, as if I wasn't the boss here. He pushed off the wall and glanced over his shoulder at me as he stepped away, still with that same incredulous expression. He led me back to the table and nodded to the rest of the band.
     "Hey, you guys wanna go back to the hotel before we go to the venue?" he asked them.
     "Why?" David replied.
     Reg smirked at me and then back to the band. "Your sound girl is still asleep and Jon needs his jacket," he snickered. I could feel the corners of my mouth turn down in annoyance. He and I both knew that the band would rather spend their free time around town than running back to the hotel.
     "That sounds like a Jon problem!" Alec challenged, holding up his small glass of Sake.
     Tico grinned at Alec and then up at Reg and me again. The whole band was looking up at us with either amused or expectant expressions. Mostly amused. Maybe it was just me that was expectant. It seemed I was the only one who felt the need to get Nina to the venue.
     "I'll go!" Richie piped up. Reg's grin diminished at the sound of the words, but didn't disappear. He somehow seemed more amused.
     "Really?"
     Richie nodded. "Yeah, why not?" he said. His eyes shifted to me for just a second before returning to Reg. "I think the show would be better if Nina was there. We might sound like shit if she's not."
     "Speak for yourself!" Tico argued, leading a chorus of agreements to his outburst from the other two. I smiled to myself, and chuckled a little, but kept my two cents to myself.
     Richie laughed a little too and nodded up at Reg. "What do ya say?"
     "Nobody else wants to go," Reg said with a shrug, as if that was the deciding factor. I was just about to protest when Richie spoke up again.
     "Well, you're technically only responsible for me and Jonny-boy, so..." He trailed off and shrugged. I grinned again at my friend. Richie was the best. He knew how important it was to me for Nina to stay on tour. He got it.
     "You've already checked out!" Reg reminded us, looking between the two of us.
     "Yeah," I said, sticking my hand into my pocket, "But I still have my key!"
     I pulled the keycard out of my pocket and held it out in front of Reg. He took one look at it and his face fell. He looked so discouraged. He must have forgotten that Rich and I were his primary concern. I'd forgotten. And I'd just crushed his other hope of staying here. He could technically leave the rest of the band with one of the other guys on his security team if he had to. And Richie and I could definitely make it so he had to, if we wanted.
     "I hate you guys," Reg grumbled, pulling a walkie-talkie off his belt. I laughed and reached out a hand to Richie, which he clapped, slapped, and fist-bumped in return. "Aaron, I need you in here," Reg said into the walkie.
     Moments later, Richie, Reg, and I were in a cab on our way back to the hotel. The crowd outside was long gone, which made it a million times easier getting into the hotel than it had been getting out this morning.
     "You guys have five minutes," Reg told us as the elevator lifted us away from the lobby.
     "Fifteen," Richie bartered.
     "Ten."
     "Done," I agreed.
     Richie and I were out of the elevator the second the doors were open. I didn't even bother with my room, heading instead around the corner to where Nina's door was. I stopped at the door, staring at the 'do not disturb' sign that still hung from the handle, the same one I'd placed there this morning. Something about seeing it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach.
     "What are you waiting for?" Richie asked, bringing me back to the moment. I glanced over at him and nodded. Right, we had to get Nina to the venue. I slipped the keycard into the slot and prayed that they hadn't turned the card off yet. Thankfully, the light turned green and, with a sigh of relief, I pushed the door open.
     "Nina!" I called into the room. The curtains were wide open, letting mid-day sunlight flood the room. To my right, the bathroom door stood open, the light off. The further into the room I went, the more evident it became that something was wrong.
     Nina was not still in bed as I'd originally thought. The covers were pulled back like she'd gotten up, but her suitcase was still sitting on the floor, against the wall, where it had been all night. She wouldn't be on her way to the venue without that. I looked back at Richie, who seemed just as confused. We shared a perplexed moment of silence and then I stepped past him, back toward the bathroom.
     I could feel Richie watching me as I turned the light on and scanned the bathroom. The shower curtain was pulled back, exposing the tub. Empty. Nina's toothpaste and toothbrush were still next to the sink, her makeup still sitting on the counter. Everything was exactly as I'd left it this morning, except Nina was gone.
     There was that horrible feeling in my stomach again. I could only call it dread, and I had no idea why I felt that way. The whole hotel room was filled with a stillness that was just....wrong. Nothing about this situation was normal, even for Nina.
     "What's this?" came Richie's voice from the main part of the room. I stepped out of the bathroom to find him over at Nina's side of the bed, where the covers were pulled back. He was looking down at something I hadn't noticed on the bed. He looked up at me from whatever is was with a grave expression. "I think it's for you."
     I didn't want to go over there. The look on his face told me that whatever it was on the bed wasn't good. I couldn't think of a single thing it could actually be, it just wasn't good. Slowly, I made my way across the room to the side of the bed, where Richie was quick to make room for me.
     When I saw what it was, my heart sank. It was a letter. Two pages clinging to each other by the folds and wrinkles of being crumpled and uncrumpled again. Underneath the letter was, inexplicably, a leather-bound book. I sank onto the bed and picked up the letter to read. It was written in Nina's handwriting. That same scrawly handwriting that she used to give us notes in after shows. It read: