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Wednesday May 10th, 2005
The monstrously shiny SUV pulled up to the
loft and he got out of the car quickly, launching his umbrella as to not get wet. It was all a lie; April showers did not
bring May flowers.
From what he’d read in USA Today, New York had constant rain all weekend,
but LA was sunny and beautiful. Going back to LA made him realize how much he missed home and his friends, but he didn’t
miss all of that more than he missed Anna.
“Going back to the Wicked Witch of the Meatpacking
District?” Mused one of his bodyguards.
“Hah, hah.” He laughed dryly, “And,
yes, I am.”
“Well, boy, LA was fun, huh?”
He nodded,
hoisting his duffel bag on his shoulder, “Yes it was.”
“Tell Anna I said hi.”
“Really?”
“No,
but it’s the polite thing.” Smiled Mike, “When are you going to ditch this whole artsy phase and come back
to LA, kid?”
“I don't know – never?”
Mike rolled
his eyes, “Uh huh...”
“This isn't an artsy phase. It isn't my fault I fell in
love with an artist…nothing I can do, can't choose who you love.”
“She’s
ruling over your life.”
“She is not. Did JC put you up to this Anna Bashing fest?”
“Maybe?”
Mike smiled, “Alright, I gotta get going. Got to flight to catch.”
“Going back
to Orlando?”
Mike nodded, “Till you need me again.”
“Alright.
Hug it out,” He said, embracing the large man whom had been his watchdog and confidant throughout the years.
“Later,
man.”
“See you.” Justin said, grabbing his other bag and getting his keys out
from his pocket. The loft where Justin had been living with Anna for the past year and a half was in the up and coming neighborhood
of the Meatpacking District where the rent was high and most of the people who lived there were either artists or stock brokers.
He stepped into the elevator and pulled the gate down. He went up two floors and pushed the gate
up, stepped out and went down the hall. He turned the key in the lock and walked inside.
The loft
exuded sexiness; the longest wall of the loft that spanned from the kitchen to the living room was painted a deep red, and
the concrete floors that covered the entire plane were painted either a deep brown or a stark white. All the furniture was
minimalist and modern. That personally wasn’t his style or his taste, but it was Anna’s loft-studio so he didn’t
care too much because he didn’t spend all that much time there anyway, except when Anna actually spent time with him.
“Anna?”
He called out.
He got no reply, and when he looked up he understood why. The second floor didn’t
have a wall separating it from downstairs, only a railing that let one see right up into the bedroom.
There
was Anna, in bed with that guy he recognized from the gallery on Friday. “Anna?”
He
instinctively walked up the modern stairs and conjured up what to say. “Anna, I’m home.”
Whatever
was going on in that bed stopped. The guy rolled off onto the floor and made a mad dash for his clothes, then a madder dash
for the door.
Anna looked at him, “I didn’t think you were coming home until tonight—“
He
rolled his eyes and threw her charcoal colored James Perse tank top at her, “Put some god damn clothes on.”
“Will
you at least let me explain myself?”
“I think it’s pretty clear.” He said
softly, standing against the railing, “But what I don't understand is why, Anna.”
“He’s
my art dealer—“
“So you slept with him for the benefit of your art?” He
asked, “Am I supposed to believe that?”
“I don't know.”
“This
is the only time you’ve cheated on me, right?” He asked.
She looked away from his intense
blue eyes as she put on her tank top.
“Right, Anna?”
She
said nothing.
“I can't believe this.” He said, sitting on the foot of the bed. “I
can't believe you would do this to me. I thought we were in love? Aren't we? I thought you loved me?”
“I
do—“
“So then why would you do this to me?”
She
sighed and crawled up next to him, in her tank top and black underwear, “I’m sorry—“
“No,
Anna.” He said, “Don't tell me you're sorry. I don't care if you really are; I don't want to hear it.”
“I
don't know what to say.”
“Are you trying to break my heart or did this just accidentally
happen?”
Anna sighed, “Can you honestly sit there and tell me you went to LA and didn’t
hook up with any one?”
“That is not fair.” He replied.
“So
then you cheated on me, too.”
“Yeah, but so did you.” He argued, “Look,
obviously, if we’re cheating on each other, our other issues can't even begin to be worked out, so we shouldn’t
even try. I’m getting tired of all of this, Anna. For the past year you’ve been so zoned out, working on your
latest exhibit; totally disconnected. It’s just too intense for me, I don't know.”
“What’s
too intense for you? I thought we were in love.”
“We are…were…I don't know.”
He sighed, “It’s very apparent to me, Anna, that I am definitely not the thing in your life that comes before
everything else.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m
saying that nobody ever likes the backseat when they can have the front.”
She rolled her
eyes, “Way to be metaphorical.”
“Okay, well, I think you’d be complaining
ten times more than me if I was the one working my ass off to crank an album out, working day and night. If this was reversed
you would be completely pissed off with me.”
“Maybe that’s true, but you have
no idea what it’s like to be a true artist; it’s hard, Justin.”
He sighed, “I’m
not an artist? Sure, you're, like, creating real art or something, but aren't I, too? Music is art, in a way. I just can't
handle this any more. I thought I could. I really did. For a while you were it for me – I didn’t let anybody talk
me out of this, moving to New York to be with you, any of it. But the thing was that I knew exactly what I was getting into.”
“Is
all of this code for you saying you think I took you for granted?” She asked, annoyed.
“Kind
of.” He said. “Not to say I’m not completely crushed that I just walked in on you with some one else, but
we both know what we have or had was not or will ever be a healthy relationship.”
“What
do you know about healthy relationships, Justin? Honestly. Before me, you hadn't had a serious relationship for, like, five
solid months after what’s her name left you. Until you met me, all you were doing was hooking up and partying, so don't
blame me for the one causing what you think is an unhealthy relationship.”
“I’m
not blaming you, Anna.” He said, “Listen, I’m gonna pack my shit and go. Okay? That will work for both of
us, don't you think?”
“Please stay?”
He sighed, “You
want me to stay? What the hell?”
She grabbed his hand and kissed it, “You love me,
don't you?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, so…we’ll
forget our faults and just be together.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
He
sighed, “I cheated on you.”
“I cheated on you.” She replied.
He
sighed, “I can't keep going through this. I have to go.”
“You're just going to
go back into the same cycle all over again.”
“Maybe, but it led me to you, didn’t
it?”
“Am I supposed to take that as some kind of compliment?”
“That
is a compliment – you're amazing, Anna. You're the deepest, smartest, most intense woman on the face of the earth. You're
brilliant. You have the world to conquer, Anna. I just don't want to conquer it with you.”
She
nodded slowly, lying on her back on the bed, “Do you hate me?”
“For what, cheating
on me?”
She nodded, scratching her flat and toned stomach.
“Not
really. If I hated every girlfriend who cheated on me, I think I might hate roughly half of the female population of California,
and maybe a quarter of the female pop of New York. So no, I don't hate you.”
“You have
the worst luck with women and infidelity, don't you?”
“Yeah.” He sighed, “Unfortunately.”
“You
deserve some one who can truly love you, Justin. Some one who wont hurt you like I did.”
He
shrugged, “You deserve the same for yourself.”
“At least we had the love part
down, didn’t we?”
He smiled, “I think so.”
“I’ll
miss you.”
“Ditto, Anna.” He said with a yawn, hoisting himself off the bed.
He went into the closet and took out all of his clothes, starting with underwear and socks.
“Where
are you going to go?”
“Probably The W.” He replied, “You want anything
before I pack?”
“Can I have your Brew Thru tee shirt?”
He
laughed, “Yeah.”
“What? I love that shirt – it reminds me of everything
about you.”
“If anything I would think you’d want to get rid of it.”
She
shrugged, “It could prove good inspiration for something.”
He looked at her with slanty
eyes, “You and your weird inspirations – as long as I live I doubt I’ll ever understand your art quirks.”
“And
what about you? When you pen down a song you wont even let me read it.”
“Don't take
that personally. Nobody reads anything.”
She shrugged and rolled over on her stomach, “At
least we had a ton of amazing sex.”
He laughed, “Yes, at least.”
“I
doubt either of us will have something like that again.”
He shrugged and threw a bunch of
socks into his duffel bag, “Who knows.”
“Eh, you're right.” She said.
“So,
this guy that scurried out of here when I came in…was that better?”
She laughed, “By,
like, that much.” She said, showing him with her thumb and forefinger, “It was a close comparison.”
“Mmm.
I see.”
“What do you think compels people to cheat?”
He
laughed, “A genetic imbalance of the brain, the need for satisfaction all the time, selfish wanting…the list goes
on.”
She laid her head on her arms, “I’ll miss your insight.”
“Insight?
What insight?”
She bit her lip, “The way you see things. It’s amazing.”
He
shrugged, “I’m a little bit more optimistic than you.”
“You are.”
She confirmed, “Who did you hook up with in LA?”
“This girl…” He
paused, “Emma.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“She
was a pretty girl.”
“Did she sleep with her?”
“No...we
just messed around.”
She rolled her eyes, “Was it okay?”
“Morally,
no. But yeah, you know…” He paused, “I don't want to talk about it.”
She
smiled, “That’s your line. For everything. You just shake it off…like politely saying no comment. That’s
all you ever say.”
He folded a bunch of shirts and jeans into the suitcase, “Why should
I have to talk about something I don't want to? What’s private is private.”
“You're
right.” She sighed, “Will you go back to LA?”
“Maybe. I’m addicted
to New York now…I’m in tune with the pace of the city, I can't very well go back to LA.”
She
smiled, “If you do stay, we need to be friends.”
“Alright.” He agreed,
“I’m starting to think you and I…we were never right from the beginning.”
She
sighed and rolled over on her back, “You're probably right.”
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