Part Three
Part One
Part Two
Mikey was sitting on the sofa, boots resting on the table, iphone in hand. He looked up as Bob sulkily landed next to him. “Dude, what’s wrong with Victoria?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “I’m not her, whatever.”
“You should go to her.”
“She’s a grown up, she doesn’t need me checking up on her.”
“Yeah, but ... she does need you.”
“How can she need me, I barely know her.”
This, by the way, was such a lie. He knew everything, especially the stuff she hadn’t told him. He knew the obvious stuff, like her weird obsession with carrot juice, how she fiddled with the ‘V’ around her neck when she was nervous, and how she always told everyone how bad smoking was, yet never got round to quitting herself. But there was the other stuff, like when she wore her hair curly and couldn’t stop playing with it, the way her eyes lit up every time she saw an animal, and had to tell him what she’d seen. How the sun caught her hair, and the way her eyes looked when she smiled at him.
She didn’t talk a lot about herself. She didn’t often get a chance to. No mistake, she was always talking, she seriously couldn’t shut up. Years later, when he pressed her about it, she admitted that she didn’t want to bore people with whatever was upsetting her, or the boring details of her life. “But I want to know” he had said. “I want to hear everything.”
Bob snapped back to Mikey, who was glaring at him, deadpan. “Yeah, but she does.”
Almost reluctantly, he went to find her. She wasn’t in the studio - so there was only one place she could be. He found her out back, perched on a trash can lid, smoking, Gizmo poking his nose around in the gutter.
“You should quit you know.”
“I don’t want to, believe it or not. I actively enjoy smoking. You’re just jealous.”
Bob remembered the feel of the cigarette in his fingers, the rush of nicotine in his lungs. Yeah, a bit.
He bit the bullet. “Has something happened? You’re not yourself.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me stuff. It’s my job, to help you with stuff.”
She looked over at him - he was clearly concerned, his brow furrowed and eyes dark, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. This was just too weird, he was trying to help her, like he was her whatever. He wasn’t - no-one even knew about them yet, about whatever they had.
“It’s not, ok?”
***
They first met three, four years ago, in a bar in Chicago. Patrick and Joe had dragged Bob out. He had been back from tour less than 2 days, and all he wanted to do was sleep. If they wanted to hang out, he would have much rather gone somewhere where music wasn’t pumping into his ears, everyone wasn’t sweaty and there was a vague chance of him finding somewhere to sit. Patrick was droning on about something complicated to do with a David Bowie lyric when Joe cut in. “Hey, there’s Victoria.” Bob swivelled around to the far side of the bar.
He knew who she was, Patrick had played him some of their demos a few weeks ago. She was laughing at something Alex and Nate were explaining to her, her skirt hitching up slightly as she leaned over the bar. She was wearing a black lace dress, with little black boots.
At some point she’d walked past them, stopped, said hi. Patrick had introduced them. And that was it. It was very ordinary really. It wasn’t like there was some burning connection between them. He didn’t think she was unattractive, but she certainly didn’t cause a stirring in his pants.
He didn’t know that the next time he saw her, things would be very different.
Different because she couldn’t admit that on some level, deep down, she’s sure that they’ll actually spend the rest of their lives together.
***
20th February 2010
Bob let himself into her house. He didn’t knock or anything, but Gizmo made such a racket she knew it was him. She was in the bedroom - he thought she was finally unpacking but it seemed more like she was really just moving boxes from one pile to another.
“What are you doing?”
“I cannot find any of my Modest Mouse CDs. “
“Can’t you just look on your iPod...”
“Ow!”
“What?”
“I wrenched my shoulder again.”
Bob tutted. “Get on the bed, Asher.” She slowly slipped off her shoes, and kneeled on the middle of the bed. Bob pushed her torso forward, sitting behind her and pushing his fingers into her shoulder blades. She flopped forward and made a noise similar to when he’d last been fucking her against the wall of the shower.
She could hear Bob smirk. “And I didn’t even have to take your clothes off.”
She groaned. “Less talking, Bryar.”
She whined again as he moved his hands from her shoulders to around her waist, pulling her up so her back was pushed flush against his front. He moved his lips towards her neck and she just breathed in the feeling on his lips against her skin, and his hands pulling her in.
She realised she was trapped. Nice move.
“You know, it’s my job to care if you’re miserable. A problem shared is a problem halved, or some shit like that.”
“It is shit” she murmured. They talked all the time. Just not about stuff.
“You need to let me take care of you. It’s just the deal.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, her idly playing with the hairs on his arm, running her fingertips over the scar on his wrist; him resting his chin on her shoulder and rubbing her side.
“I got a notice to contract. It’s over, it’s really over.” It was somehow easier to say it without looking him in the eye. Bob said nothing, but moved his arms tighter round her. She tried to twist so she could hug him properly, but he held her still.
“You know, when I had my wrist sliced open, they weren’t sure if I’d be able to play any more. I mean, I couldn’t play any way, but at least it was a chance.“
Victoria knew he’d had surgery, before she’d moved to LA, and had certainly noticed the scar, still red and ugly. But she’s never considered the way that when he lifted her up, or rolled her over, he gripped with only his left hand, or that he laid on his side over her, rather than bracing the weight on his forearms.
“I never even considered the other stuff I wouldn’t be able to do, like hold my toothbrush or zip up my own pants. I just tried to think about what I’d do with myself if I couldn’t play drums any more”
“What did you decide?”
“I couldn’t think of anything. It’s just, drumming’s my life, and it has been as soon as I was old enough to hold the sticks. It would just be a gaping hole in my life ... it wouldn’t even be my life any more, you see?”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m so lucky it’s almost back to normal, but something’s just not...”
“No, about me.” She didn’t care if she was being selfish. She was allowed to be right now.
“Victoria, I’m thinking about leaving the band.” Suddenly, she didn’t need to be selfish. Bob had bigger problems, and they kind of put all of hers into perspective. Bob was taking control for once - she needed to as well.
This time, Bob let her turn around. She would come to learn that a cuddle with Bob would be just about the best thing ever. She would sidle up to him and just throw herself towards him - he’d carefully, slowly, wrap both arms around her, pulling her tight. She would push her face into his neck, and he would rest his chin on her shoulder. This time she sat on top of his legs, pulling him towards her as much as he was her. She knew he didn’t like talking about feelings and stuff, so she waited silently. But he didn’t say anything either, so they just sat in silence, melted into each other.
***
“Why the HELL didn’t you tell me?”
Victoria snapped out of her daze as she heard Jamia yell and throw half her cup of coffee over the floor. Jamia had come over to supposedly borrow a sweater, but seemed to be pulling apart her closet whilst Victoria was looking up movie times online. She knew she’d gotten a little distracted - Jamia seemed to be having a few issues with Frank’s wish to keep extending their canine family, and she’d ended up Googling random crap, like her own name. Or perhaps her former band’s. Jamia had noticed she wasn’t listening and had come to peer over her shoulder.
“What crap are you writing about ... you know you can only get 150 characters on Twitter, right ...” There was a sudden silence. She knew she was done for. As well as high pitched screaming, coffee splashing over the edge of her rug, the arm of a sweater flicked her around the face.
“Why the HELL didn’t you tell me. How long ago, when, I bet Frank knew the whole time and didn’t tell me...” Oh lord. She knew Jamia would find out someday, and that she’d get the screaming. But seriously. Typing it on freaking google for all to see, how dumb was she?
“Come on, spill. When? I bet it was months ago, wasn’t it?” Jamia had now dropped the random pieces of clothing she’d acquired, sitting right in front of Victoria so she had no way of avoiding her.
“It was ...” She was sort of hesitant about telling her - whilst there was no way Jamia would leave until she knew every detail, she kind of enjoyed it being a secret between just the two of them, and she never really had the kind of girlfriends where they talked about this kind of stuff. “...it was New Year’s Eve.”
“Aanndd?”
“Well, I’d gone upstairs to get my jacket, and Bob was there to get his too, but by the time I found mine it was practically 12, so I said I was going to stay and watch the fireworks through the window. He stayed too, and then it was 12, and then, you know...”
“Oh come on, is that it? I need sordid details. Have you slept together yet?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. Only Jamia could be so obscenely, well, obscene, and get away with it.
“Yeah.” Short and sweet. She knew this would kill her.
“How many times?”
“Altogether, or like, last night?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost count!” Victoria laughed. She kind of had lost count.
“Look, no one knows yet. We didn’t want people to make a big deal of it, and you know what he’s like.”
“Yeah, sure.” There was a long pause. “What’s he like, you know?”
“Jamia!”
And so, once Jamia knew, everyone knew. Victoria text Bob and told him, just in case he was mad - him and his whole private affairs thing. It turns out that everyone had pretty much guessed anyway. And she thought they had been so discrete.
***
April 4th, 2007
Victoria remembers it as if it were yesterday. A perfectly formed memory, something she can pull out for interviews and spin into a beautiful anecdote. In reality, it was sweaty, dirty and kinda smelly. She was in her college dorm room, the lamp on low as she bent over her laptop, swigging cold coffee from a mug. She was wearing a Ramones t-shirt and legwarmers, books piled up on either side of her. Her room mate had been smoking pot earlier, and the stale smell still lingered. An AIM popped up.
GabrielSaporta: vicky? hey, I’m gabe. ur friend suarez and me are starting up a band.
She laughed to herself - she had thought he was kidding when he told her the name of the band.
RumraisinV: Oh yeah, he mentioned it to me the other day. What’s this I hear about a keytar?
GabrielSaporta: oh, it would be SO cool! u can play piano right?
RumraisinV: Yeah, but it’s kinda 80s, isn’t it?
GabrielSaporta: yeah, its 80s thing. exactly. who else plays 1 these days?
RumraisinV: Maybe MC Hammer when he’s not dancing?
GabrielSaporta: look, its an up and coming instrument. lars Ulrich is gonna play it on the next metallica record.
RumraisinV: Yeah, I heard Breaking Benjamin too.
GabrielSaporta: Lolllllzzzzzz
Everything was silent for a minute. Victoria could hear someone practicing drums on the floor below.
GabrielSaporta: You know you’re actually kinda cool, for a girl. Victoria rolled her eyes. Even online, she could tell he was beyond wasted.
“We actually like a lot of the same music. And we could take what we already play and mix it up a bit, you know, like hardcore folk or some shit...”
Victoria had to admit that it would be kinda cool.
RumraisinV: I suppose it could be interesting ...
GabrielSaporta: So you’re in? cool. I’ll text you rehearsal time.
RumraisinV: Wait - I
And he was offline before she even got to say no.
***
March 3rd 2010
Victoria was chopping carrots when Bob called to say he was on his way over. He had taught her how to cook them so that they didn’t go all dry and stick to each other, so she’d decided to make him dinner. She stopped off at the supermarket on the way home and bought some chicken and vegetables and noodles. By the time she had located the saucepans and wooden spoons end stuff it was past 9 - she’d been concentrating so hard on not ruining the food that she hadn’t realised how late it was. Bob let himself in round the back, and leaned over to say hi to Gizmo and Ursula, who as usual had jumped on him as soon as he came through the door.
“How are you?” She asked. There was a long pause - she knew the answer wouldn’t be ‘good.’ She could tell by the fact that he’d slumped down on to a chair, rather than coming and kissing her hello, like normal.
“Frank put a blog on the website today. It’s official, I suppose. So...just so you know, in case anyone asks you about it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna lie low for a bit. I’m not going to go back to Chicago yet. Too many questions. Just stay home, watch the Wire box set . Hey can I borrow the Sopranos? Maybe I’ll make some sushi. I need to wash the windows too.”
“No, I mean... what are you going to do? “
He looked at her, just staring with those big blue eyes.
“I don’t know. I have no idea. I just know it was the right choice.”
“Are you ok?” He had feelings and stuff, even though he didn’t like to admit it. She thought she heard a grunt of acknowledgement as he busied himself throwing the dogs’ toys from the floor into their little box. “We could talk about it, you know...” She just wanted to know why, why he’d suddenly decided to up and leave.
“No, I’m fine.” He said, attaching the leash to Gizmo and Ursula’s collars and walking out of the door.
***
Sometimes you lived in each other’s pockets so much on tour that any slight departure from normal behaviour becomes a phenomenon in itself. When Gabe wasn’t around as much as usual, when he wasn’t the last one up at night, and not always first to find a game room or swimming pool on a hotel night, everyone prophesised as to what was wrong with ‘Mysterious Gabe’. It was just a game, a mystery they had concocted whilst bored one day. They spun stories about how he was the ringleader of the Jewish mafia, or undergoing laser surgery to remove a hidden tattoo.
Victoria first realised that things were no longer rosy when she walked onto the bus and found Gabe staring at his phone. The forlorn look on his face gave that something was deeply troubling him. She just looked at him - she didn’t need to ask.
He couldn’t look at her as he said it. “It’s Lauren. Me and Lauren, we...” He tailed off, not needing to finish his sentence.
Victoria drew in a deep breath. She had a sudden urge for a cigarette, but didn’t have any in her pockets. If she asked Gabe, he might just sock her. “I take it Alex doesn’t know?”
He shook his head silently, and moved, ostensibly to straighten the stack of DVDs piled next him, but also to turn away from her. “No. I don’t know what happened, it was kinda like she was just part of the furniture, you know, always there ... but then, I don’t know how it happened, she just ... wasn’t. And then ... Victoria, you have to keep this to yourself, if he knew ...”
“If you ask me to, I’ll keep it a secret. But you realise you have to tell him?”
He looked her in the eye for the first time. “How can I?”
Victoria didn’t say anything, because for once she didn’t have an answer.
***
April 10th, 2010
She kind of thought he did too, but she didn’t actually find out until late one night, whilst she and Bob were in bed, curled around each other, the fall of her hair dark across his chest, contrasting with the pale blond.
“It’s humid, huh?” he muttered. She liked these conversations they had late at night, even though she was so sleepy she just mumbled answers at him. They rarely progressed past the inane - Bob would normally give up and fall asleep himself. It always took Bob ages to fall asleep, and he generally tried to keep her up too, asking her questions and moving his hands over her.
“I might go to the beach tomorrow.” This wasn’t a question - she knew he’d never come with her. If he did, he’d probably sit on the sand with his hoodie on.
“Make sure you go fully clothed. With like jeans and a sweater on. Make sure it’s zipped up.”
“No-one’s going to look at me at the beach. I’m so white I’ll fade in with the sand.”
“They’ll all be looking at you. Don’t let a lifeguard or someone try and pick you up while I’m not there.”
“Shut up.”
“You’ll run across the sand to each other, yelling about your undying love for one another, while I sit inside clearing up after Gizmo and Ursula.”
“But I love you.” Shit. She never meant to say it first.
“You do, do you?”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t lie to him, there was no point.
“I love you too.” He murmured, pressing his lips into her hair.
Hmm. A major moment in their relationship. Calm, comfortable. No fuss, no drama. Unusual.
***
June 12th, 2010
Victoria had so much stuff on her mind that she took the reasoned, sensible measure of choosing not to think about anything. And get drunk. Bob had gone to get gas and milk, and she text him to buy her wine. Lots of it. She was laid on her back on the sofa, Gizmo spread out across her stomach, eyes closed, listening to infomercials when he came back. Gizmo jumped up as Bob poured his dinner out.
Victoria didn’t move, so Bob stood over her, hoping that his mere presence would wake her. When nothing happened, he chose to speak. “I got your order, Asher.”
“So could you pour me a glass then?”
“I didn’t get it.”
“Whhhyyy?” she whined.
“You don’t have time to drink wine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You need to go and pack up that house of yours.”
“Oh Bob, I can’t just pack it all up, I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“My place.”
“I am at your place.”
“My place in Chicago. Come on, I picked up some scotch tape for you.”
Victoria decided to open her eyes. Bob had sat down on the edge of the sofa, proffering her the roll of the tape as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they were having.
“We’ve had this discussion before. I can’t just up and move, I have work.”
“I thought your contract ended?”
“They said it’s on hiatus, until they have more stuff for me. Budget cuts and stuff”
He stared her down. “Gizmo and Ursula need their mom and dad around.”
“We are not their parents.” She hated when people called their pets their children.
“Ok, I need you around.” She also hated how, after all this time, she only had to look at him for all of her resolve to just melt away. She sat up and pulled him to her, dragging her palm across the stubble of his cheek and her mouth to his. His tongue was eager, despite the many, many times they had kissed, and familiar. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as physically close as possible, his legs kneeling on either side of her, crotch hovering inches above hers. They kissed for a while, her stroking her hands in his hair, his tongue stroking hers, shifting to get closer to each other. “That was a yes then?” he asked, pulling back and gasping slightly.
“That wasn’t an anything. You’ll miss me late at night, when you can’t sleep, and you’ve got no-one to poke and prod.“
“I’ll miss you all the time. You’re not gonna answer me?”
“No”, she said, sliding her fingers into his pants and under the elastic of his boxers, “I’m going to distract you with sex instead.”
“Hey, that’s fine with me ...” he broke off with a gasp as she moved her hand lower. He pushed her forward so she was lying as far back as possible on the couch. The way he was leaning over her made it difficult for them to take each other’s clothes off, so he sort of pulled at her dress until it was as far up as it could go. They kept their mouths together, and the drag of his cold fingertips over her nipple had her moaning into his mouth. He leaned back to say something, but she took advantage of the space between them to pull his t-shirt and hoodie off in one go, quickly moving to unzip his pants. They managed to pull each other’s clothes off and were pressed flush against each other, skin to skin.
“Bob ... “ she mumbled against his mouth, breath coming faster. He knew what she was after, and shifted so she was sat on top of him. Victoria took a minute to just look at him, stroking his bangs out of his eyes. She could feel him shifting against her, getting impatient - so rare for him. It was usually him holding her down. She decided not to make him wait, and pushed her hips forward so they lined up with his. She couldn’t help but whimper at the familiar yet intense feeling of him sliding inside her, and pressed her lips to his shoulder. He pulled her hips further forward, wincing slightly at the pressure on his wrist. Just feeling him inside of her, not even moving, just stretching her, had her gasping. She held on to his shoulders, using her arms to push herself up and down onto him again. He held onto her hips tightly, leaning forward to kiss her, and moaning into her mouth. “You’re so fucking hot” he panted, looking down at her breasts swaying as she moved. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her, making her bite her lip and clench harder.
All he was doing was gently, slowly rocking upwards into her, as if he had all the time in the world, one hand stroking her hip and one higher up on her waist while she writhed and moaned on top of him. Every slight shift of his hips made her gasp and cling to him even tighter. She listened to their moans and gasps filling the room and wondered how two people just moving against each other could cause so much noise. Her thighs were burning, but it was worth it to feel almost her entire body against his, feeling his hands digging into her hips and his breath hot on her neck as she moved on top of him. As she felt that something inside of her tightening, she pushed her face into his neck, wimpering and gasping his name. She heard him groan deeply as she came around him.
The first time, it was amazing just because it seemed like she had been waiting so long, that they entire last 6 months had been building up to this. Part of the pleasure was the novelty value, that she finally had Bob in her bed, that she got to take off his clothes and run her hands or tongue over whatever piece of skin that she wanted. And he let her. She didn’t give much thought to the physical feeling of it. It wasn’t until later, when the novelty of being together had finally worn off, when they no longer jumped on each other and ripped each other’s clothes off. It wasn’t until later that she realised that just holding him, just having him with her, was enough.
He didn’t make a lot of noise when they were having sex (sometimes she just couldn’t help it), but the room was so quiet she could hear his heavy breathing as he kept thrusting up in to her, listening to the way his breathing sped up and how his breath caught as he came, leaning his head back against the couch, blinking up at her wide-eyed.
***
It was safe to say she ignored his question for a long time. At first, Gizmo started pulling a bunch of newspapers apart, a welcome distraction. Then there was getting the dinner, letting Gizmo out, and having to move the boxes out of the way before they could get in to bed.
Move to Chicago with him. He had to be kidding. It was so cold there - but so was New York. Hell, it even seemed to rain all the time in LA. New York had been the centre of her world for such a long time. And yeah it wasn’t just a train ride from home, like New York was to Long Island. But she was so used to being on the other side of the country, if not the other side of the world, that surely it wasn’t that far?
She’d kinda talked herself round with the whole new start idea, until she realised that Bob was a boy. A boy had asked her to move in with him. This was big stuff, stuff that had never happened before. For years she was too young to move in with anyone, and she couldn’t even imagine sharing a place with any of her ex-boyfriends. But her and Bob, they hadn’t been together long, although it seemed like they’d been dancing round each other for years. And while she had this sneaky feeling that her heart would be tattooed with ‘BCB’ on it forever, they hadn’t actually articulated any of this stuff. They loved each other, but who said that was forever? Sure she guessed that he liked her, by the fact that he was generally always up for hanging out. But then again, that usually led to sex. And he was just a boy, after all.
But she gave it serious thought. She imagined waking up to thick snow outside, Gizmo running around in the yard, kicking up white fluff. Her pulling on one of his hoodies, curling up against his side and reading whilst he played video games.
Chicago. Hmm.
Part Four
Part Two
Mikey was sitting on the sofa, boots resting on the table, iphone in hand. He looked up as Bob sulkily landed next to him. “Dude, what’s wrong with Victoria?”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “I’m not her, whatever.”
“You should go to her.”
“She’s a grown up, she doesn’t need me checking up on her.”
“Yeah, but ... she does need you.”
“How can she need me, I barely know her.”
This, by the way, was such a lie. He knew everything, especially the stuff she hadn’t told him. He knew the obvious stuff, like her weird obsession with carrot juice, how she fiddled with the ‘V’ around her neck when she was nervous, and how she always told everyone how bad smoking was, yet never got round to quitting herself. But there was the other stuff, like when she wore her hair curly and couldn’t stop playing with it, the way her eyes lit up every time she saw an animal, and had to tell him what she’d seen. How the sun caught her hair, and the way her eyes looked when she smiled at him.
She didn’t talk a lot about herself. She didn’t often get a chance to. No mistake, she was always talking, she seriously couldn’t shut up. Years later, when he pressed her about it, she admitted that she didn’t want to bore people with whatever was upsetting her, or the boring details of her life. “But I want to know” he had said. “I want to hear everything.”
Bob snapped back to Mikey, who was glaring at him, deadpan. “Yeah, but she does.”
Almost reluctantly, he went to find her. She wasn’t in the studio - so there was only one place she could be. He found her out back, perched on a trash can lid, smoking, Gizmo poking his nose around in the gutter.
“You should quit you know.”
“I don’t want to, believe it or not. I actively enjoy smoking. You’re just jealous.”
Bob remembered the feel of the cigarette in his fingers, the rush of nicotine in his lungs. Yeah, a bit.
He bit the bullet. “Has something happened? You’re not yourself.”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me stuff. It’s my job, to help you with stuff.”
She looked over at him - he was clearly concerned, his brow furrowed and eyes dark, hands shoved into the pocket of his hoodie. This was just too weird, he was trying to help her, like he was her whatever. He wasn’t - no-one even knew about them yet, about whatever they had.
“It’s not, ok?”
***
They first met three, four years ago, in a bar in Chicago. Patrick and Joe had dragged Bob out. He had been back from tour less than 2 days, and all he wanted to do was sleep. If they wanted to hang out, he would have much rather gone somewhere where music wasn’t pumping into his ears, everyone wasn’t sweaty and there was a vague chance of him finding somewhere to sit. Patrick was droning on about something complicated to do with a David Bowie lyric when Joe cut in. “Hey, there’s Victoria.” Bob swivelled around to the far side of the bar.
He knew who she was, Patrick had played him some of their demos a few weeks ago. She was laughing at something Alex and Nate were explaining to her, her skirt hitching up slightly as she leaned over the bar. She was wearing a black lace dress, with little black boots.
At some point she’d walked past them, stopped, said hi. Patrick had introduced them. And that was it. It was very ordinary really. It wasn’t like there was some burning connection between them. He didn’t think she was unattractive, but she certainly didn’t cause a stirring in his pants.
He didn’t know that the next time he saw her, things would be very different.
Different because she couldn’t admit that on some level, deep down, she’s sure that they’ll actually spend the rest of their lives together.
***
20th February 2010
Bob let himself into her house. He didn’t knock or anything, but Gizmo made such a racket she knew it was him. She was in the bedroom - he thought she was finally unpacking but it seemed more like she was really just moving boxes from one pile to another.
“What are you doing?”
“I cannot find any of my Modest Mouse CDs. “
“Can’t you just look on your iPod...”
“Ow!”
“What?”
“I wrenched my shoulder again.”
Bob tutted. “Get on the bed, Asher.” She slowly slipped off her shoes, and kneeled on the middle of the bed. Bob pushed her torso forward, sitting behind her and pushing his fingers into her shoulder blades. She flopped forward and made a noise similar to when he’d last been fucking her against the wall of the shower.
She could hear Bob smirk. “And I didn’t even have to take your clothes off.”
She groaned. “Less talking, Bryar.”
She whined again as he moved his hands from her shoulders to around her waist, pulling her up so her back was pushed flush against his front. He moved his lips towards her neck and she just breathed in the feeling on his lips against her skin, and his hands pulling her in.
She realised she was trapped. Nice move.
“You know, it’s my job to care if you’re miserable. A problem shared is a problem halved, or some shit like that.”
“It is shit” she murmured. They talked all the time. Just not about stuff.
“You need to let me take care of you. It’s just the deal.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, her idly playing with the hairs on his arm, running her fingertips over the scar on his wrist; him resting his chin on her shoulder and rubbing her side.
“I got a notice to contract. It’s over, it’s really over.” It was somehow easier to say it without looking him in the eye. Bob said nothing, but moved his arms tighter round her. She tried to twist so she could hug him properly, but he held her still.
“You know, when I had my wrist sliced open, they weren’t sure if I’d be able to play any more. I mean, I couldn’t play any way, but at least it was a chance.“
Victoria knew he’d had surgery, before she’d moved to LA, and had certainly noticed the scar, still red and ugly. But she’s never considered the way that when he lifted her up, or rolled her over, he gripped with only his left hand, or that he laid on his side over her, rather than bracing the weight on his forearms.
“I never even considered the other stuff I wouldn’t be able to do, like hold my toothbrush or zip up my own pants. I just tried to think about what I’d do with myself if I couldn’t play drums any more”
“What did you decide?”
“I couldn’t think of anything. It’s just, drumming’s my life, and it has been as soon as I was old enough to hold the sticks. It would just be a gaping hole in my life ... it wouldn’t even be my life any more, you see?”
“So what are you saying?”
“I’m so lucky it’s almost back to normal, but something’s just not...”
“No, about me.” She didn’t care if she was being selfish. She was allowed to be right now.
“Victoria, I’m thinking about leaving the band.” Suddenly, she didn’t need to be selfish. Bob had bigger problems, and they kind of put all of hers into perspective. Bob was taking control for once - she needed to as well.
This time, Bob let her turn around. She would come to learn that a cuddle with Bob would be just about the best thing ever. She would sidle up to him and just throw herself towards him - he’d carefully, slowly, wrap both arms around her, pulling her tight. She would push her face into his neck, and he would rest his chin on her shoulder. This time she sat on top of his legs, pulling him towards her as much as he was her. She knew he didn’t like talking about feelings and stuff, so she waited silently. But he didn’t say anything either, so they just sat in silence, melted into each other.
***
“Why the HELL didn’t you tell me?”
Victoria snapped out of her daze as she heard Jamia yell and throw half her cup of coffee over the floor. Jamia had come over to supposedly borrow a sweater, but seemed to be pulling apart her closet whilst Victoria was looking up movie times online. She knew she’d gotten a little distracted - Jamia seemed to be having a few issues with Frank’s wish to keep extending their canine family, and she’d ended up Googling random crap, like her own name. Or perhaps her former band’s. Jamia had noticed she wasn’t listening and had come to peer over her shoulder.
“What crap are you writing about ... you know you can only get 150 characters on Twitter, right ...” There was a sudden silence. She knew she was done for. As well as high pitched screaming, coffee splashing over the edge of her rug, the arm of a sweater flicked her around the face.
“Why the HELL didn’t you tell me. How long ago, when, I bet Frank knew the whole time and didn’t tell me...” Oh lord. She knew Jamia would find out someday, and that she’d get the screaming. But seriously. Typing it on freaking google for all to see, how dumb was she?
“Come on, spill. When? I bet it was months ago, wasn’t it?” Jamia had now dropped the random pieces of clothing she’d acquired, sitting right in front of Victoria so she had no way of avoiding her.
“It was ...” She was sort of hesitant about telling her - whilst there was no way Jamia would leave until she knew every detail, she kind of enjoyed it being a secret between just the two of them, and she never really had the kind of girlfriends where they talked about this kind of stuff. “...it was New Year’s Eve.”
“Aanndd?”
“Well, I’d gone upstairs to get my jacket, and Bob was there to get his too, but by the time I found mine it was practically 12, so I said I was going to stay and watch the fireworks through the window. He stayed too, and then it was 12, and then, you know...”
“Oh come on, is that it? I need sordid details. Have you slept together yet?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. Only Jamia could be so obscenely, well, obscene, and get away with it.
“Yeah.” Short and sweet. She knew this would kill her.
“How many times?”
“Altogether, or like, last night?”
“Don’t tell me you’ve lost count!” Victoria laughed. She kind of had lost count.
“Look, no one knows yet. We didn’t want people to make a big deal of it, and you know what he’s like.”
“Yeah, sure.” There was a long pause. “What’s he like, you know?”
“Jamia!”
And so, once Jamia knew, everyone knew. Victoria text Bob and told him, just in case he was mad - him and his whole private affairs thing. It turns out that everyone had pretty much guessed anyway. And she thought they had been so discrete.
***
April 4th, 2007
Victoria remembers it as if it were yesterday. A perfectly formed memory, something she can pull out for interviews and spin into a beautiful anecdote. In reality, it was sweaty, dirty and kinda smelly. She was in her college dorm room, the lamp on low as she bent over her laptop, swigging cold coffee from a mug. She was wearing a Ramones t-shirt and legwarmers, books piled up on either side of her. Her room mate had been smoking pot earlier, and the stale smell still lingered. An AIM popped up.
GabrielSaporta: vicky? hey, I’m gabe. ur friend suarez and me are starting up a band.
She laughed to herself - she had thought he was kidding when he told her the name of the band.
RumraisinV: Oh yeah, he mentioned it to me the other day. What’s this I hear about a keytar?
GabrielSaporta: oh, it would be SO cool! u can play piano right?
RumraisinV: Yeah, but it’s kinda 80s, isn’t it?
GabrielSaporta: yeah, its 80s thing. exactly. who else plays 1 these days?
RumraisinV: Maybe MC Hammer when he’s not dancing?
GabrielSaporta: look, its an up and coming instrument. lars Ulrich is gonna play it on the next metallica record.
RumraisinV: Yeah, I heard Breaking Benjamin too.
GabrielSaporta: Lolllllzzzzzz
Everything was silent for a minute. Victoria could hear someone practicing drums on the floor below.
GabrielSaporta: You know you’re actually kinda cool, for a girl. Victoria rolled her eyes. Even online, she could tell he was beyond wasted.
“We actually like a lot of the same music. And we could take what we already play and mix it up a bit, you know, like hardcore folk or some shit...”
Victoria had to admit that it would be kinda cool.
RumraisinV: I suppose it could be interesting ...
GabrielSaporta: So you’re in? cool. I’ll text you rehearsal time.
RumraisinV: Wait - I
And he was offline before she even got to say no.
***
March 3rd 2010
Victoria was chopping carrots when Bob called to say he was on his way over. He had taught her how to cook them so that they didn’t go all dry and stick to each other, so she’d decided to make him dinner. She stopped off at the supermarket on the way home and bought some chicken and vegetables and noodles. By the time she had located the saucepans and wooden spoons end stuff it was past 9 - she’d been concentrating so hard on not ruining the food that she hadn’t realised how late it was. Bob let himself in round the back, and leaned over to say hi to Gizmo and Ursula, who as usual had jumped on him as soon as he came through the door.
“How are you?” She asked. There was a long pause - she knew the answer wouldn’t be ‘good.’ She could tell by the fact that he’d slumped down on to a chair, rather than coming and kissing her hello, like normal.
“Frank put a blog on the website today. It’s official, I suppose. So...just so you know, in case anyone asks you about it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna lie low for a bit. I’m not going to go back to Chicago yet. Too many questions. Just stay home, watch the Wire box set . Hey can I borrow the Sopranos? Maybe I’ll make some sushi. I need to wash the windows too.”
“No, I mean... what are you going to do? “
He looked at her, just staring with those big blue eyes.
“I don’t know. I have no idea. I just know it was the right choice.”
“Are you ok?” He had feelings and stuff, even though he didn’t like to admit it. She thought she heard a grunt of acknowledgement as he busied himself throwing the dogs’ toys from the floor into their little box. “We could talk about it, you know...” She just wanted to know why, why he’d suddenly decided to up and leave.
“No, I’m fine.” He said, attaching the leash to Gizmo and Ursula’s collars and walking out of the door.
***
Sometimes you lived in each other’s pockets so much on tour that any slight departure from normal behaviour becomes a phenomenon in itself. When Gabe wasn’t around as much as usual, when he wasn’t the last one up at night, and not always first to find a game room or swimming pool on a hotel night, everyone prophesised as to what was wrong with ‘Mysterious Gabe’. It was just a game, a mystery they had concocted whilst bored one day. They spun stories about how he was the ringleader of the Jewish mafia, or undergoing laser surgery to remove a hidden tattoo.
Victoria first realised that things were no longer rosy when she walked onto the bus and found Gabe staring at his phone. The forlorn look on his face gave that something was deeply troubling him. She just looked at him - she didn’t need to ask.
He couldn’t look at her as he said it. “It’s Lauren. Me and Lauren, we...” He tailed off, not needing to finish his sentence.
Victoria drew in a deep breath. She had a sudden urge for a cigarette, but didn’t have any in her pockets. If she asked Gabe, he might just sock her. “I take it Alex doesn’t know?”
He shook his head silently, and moved, ostensibly to straighten the stack of DVDs piled next him, but also to turn away from her. “No. I don’t know what happened, it was kinda like she was just part of the furniture, you know, always there ... but then, I don’t know how it happened, she just ... wasn’t. And then ... Victoria, you have to keep this to yourself, if he knew ...”
“If you ask me to, I’ll keep it a secret. But you realise you have to tell him?”
He looked her in the eye for the first time. “How can I?”
Victoria didn’t say anything, because for once she didn’t have an answer.
***
April 10th, 2010
She kind of thought he did too, but she didn’t actually find out until late one night, whilst she and Bob were in bed, curled around each other, the fall of her hair dark across his chest, contrasting with the pale blond.
“It’s humid, huh?” he muttered. She liked these conversations they had late at night, even though she was so sleepy she just mumbled answers at him. They rarely progressed past the inane - Bob would normally give up and fall asleep himself. It always took Bob ages to fall asleep, and he generally tried to keep her up too, asking her questions and moving his hands over her.
“I might go to the beach tomorrow.” This wasn’t a question - she knew he’d never come with her. If he did, he’d probably sit on the sand with his hoodie on.
“Make sure you go fully clothed. With like jeans and a sweater on. Make sure it’s zipped up.”
“No-one’s going to look at me at the beach. I’m so white I’ll fade in with the sand.”
“They’ll all be looking at you. Don’t let a lifeguard or someone try and pick you up while I’m not there.”
“Shut up.”
“You’ll run across the sand to each other, yelling about your undying love for one another, while I sit inside clearing up after Gizmo and Ursula.”
“But I love you.” Shit. She never meant to say it first.
“You do, do you?”
“Yeah.” She couldn’t lie to him, there was no point.
“I love you too.” He murmured, pressing his lips into her hair.
Hmm. A major moment in their relationship. Calm, comfortable. No fuss, no drama. Unusual.
***
June 12th, 2010
Victoria had so much stuff on her mind that she took the reasoned, sensible measure of choosing not to think about anything. And get drunk. Bob had gone to get gas and milk, and she text him to buy her wine. Lots of it. She was laid on her back on the sofa, Gizmo spread out across her stomach, eyes closed, listening to infomercials when he came back. Gizmo jumped up as Bob poured his dinner out.
Victoria didn’t move, so Bob stood over her, hoping that his mere presence would wake her. When nothing happened, he chose to speak. “I got your order, Asher.”
“So could you pour me a glass then?”
“I didn’t get it.”
“Whhhyyy?” she whined.
“You don’t have time to drink wine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You need to go and pack up that house of yours.”
“Oh Bob, I can’t just pack it all up, I’ve got nowhere to go.”
“My place.”
“I am at your place.”
“My place in Chicago. Come on, I picked up some scotch tape for you.”
Victoria decided to open her eyes. Bob had sat down on the edge of the sofa, proffering her the roll of the tape as if this was a perfectly normal conversation they were having.
“We’ve had this discussion before. I can’t just up and move, I have work.”
“I thought your contract ended?”
“They said it’s on hiatus, until they have more stuff for me. Budget cuts and stuff”
He stared her down. “Gizmo and Ursula need their mom and dad around.”
“We are not their parents.” She hated when people called their pets their children.
“Ok, I need you around.” She also hated how, after all this time, she only had to look at him for all of her resolve to just melt away. She sat up and pulled him to her, dragging her palm across the stubble of his cheek and her mouth to his. His tongue was eager, despite the many, many times they had kissed, and familiar. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as physically close as possible, his legs kneeling on either side of her, crotch hovering inches above hers. They kissed for a while, her stroking her hands in his hair, his tongue stroking hers, shifting to get closer to each other. “That was a yes then?” he asked, pulling back and gasping slightly.
“That wasn’t an anything. You’ll miss me late at night, when you can’t sleep, and you’ve got no-one to poke and prod.“
“I’ll miss you all the time. You’re not gonna answer me?”
“No”, she said, sliding her fingers into his pants and under the elastic of his boxers, “I’m going to distract you with sex instead.”
“Hey, that’s fine with me ...” he broke off with a gasp as she moved her hand lower. He pushed her forward so she was lying as far back as possible on the couch. The way he was leaning over her made it difficult for them to take each other’s clothes off, so he sort of pulled at her dress until it was as far up as it could go. They kept their mouths together, and the drag of his cold fingertips over her nipple had her moaning into his mouth. He leaned back to say something, but she took advantage of the space between them to pull his t-shirt and hoodie off in one go, quickly moving to unzip his pants. They managed to pull each other’s clothes off and were pressed flush against each other, skin to skin.
“Bob ... “ she mumbled against his mouth, breath coming faster. He knew what she was after, and shifted so she was sat on top of him. Victoria took a minute to just look at him, stroking his bangs out of his eyes. She could feel him shifting against her, getting impatient - so rare for him. It was usually him holding her down. She decided not to make him wait, and pushed her hips forward so they lined up with his. She couldn’t help but whimper at the familiar yet intense feeling of him sliding inside her, and pressed her lips to his shoulder. He pulled her hips further forward, wincing slightly at the pressure on his wrist. Just feeling him inside of her, not even moving, just stretching her, had her gasping. She held on to his shoulders, using her arms to push herself up and down onto him again. He held onto her hips tightly, leaning forward to kiss her, and moaning into her mouth. “You’re so fucking hot” he panted, looking down at her breasts swaying as she moved. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at her, making her bite her lip and clench harder.
All he was doing was gently, slowly rocking upwards into her, as if he had all the time in the world, one hand stroking her hip and one higher up on her waist while she writhed and moaned on top of him. Every slight shift of his hips made her gasp and cling to him even tighter. She listened to their moans and gasps filling the room and wondered how two people just moving against each other could cause so much noise. Her thighs were burning, but it was worth it to feel almost her entire body against his, feeling his hands digging into her hips and his breath hot on her neck as she moved on top of him. As she felt that something inside of her tightening, she pushed her face into his neck, wimpering and gasping his name. She heard him groan deeply as she came around him.
The first time, it was amazing just because it seemed like she had been waiting so long, that they entire last 6 months had been building up to this. Part of the pleasure was the novelty value, that she finally had Bob in her bed, that she got to take off his clothes and run her hands or tongue over whatever piece of skin that she wanted. And he let her. She didn’t give much thought to the physical feeling of it. It wasn’t until later, when the novelty of being together had finally worn off, when they no longer jumped on each other and ripped each other’s clothes off. It wasn’t until later that she realised that just holding him, just having him with her, was enough.
He didn’t make a lot of noise when they were having sex (sometimes she just couldn’t help it), but the room was so quiet she could hear his heavy breathing as he kept thrusting up in to her, listening to the way his breathing sped up and how his breath caught as he came, leaning his head back against the couch, blinking up at her wide-eyed.
***
It was safe to say she ignored his question for a long time. At first, Gizmo started pulling a bunch of newspapers apart, a welcome distraction. Then there was getting the dinner, letting Gizmo out, and having to move the boxes out of the way before they could get in to bed.
Move to Chicago with him. He had to be kidding. It was so cold there - but so was New York. Hell, it even seemed to rain all the time in LA. New York had been the centre of her world for such a long time. And yeah it wasn’t just a train ride from home, like New York was to Long Island. But she was so used to being on the other side of the country, if not the other side of the world, that surely it wasn’t that far?
She’d kinda talked herself round with the whole new start idea, until she realised that Bob was a boy. A boy had asked her to move in with him. This was big stuff, stuff that had never happened before. For years she was too young to move in with anyone, and she couldn’t even imagine sharing a place with any of her ex-boyfriends. But her and Bob, they hadn’t been together long, although it seemed like they’d been dancing round each other for years. And while she had this sneaky feeling that her heart would be tattooed with ‘BCB’ on it forever, they hadn’t actually articulated any of this stuff. They loved each other, but who said that was forever? Sure she guessed that he liked her, by the fact that he was generally always up for hanging out. But then again, that usually led to sex. And he was just a boy, after all.
But she gave it serious thought. She imagined waking up to thick snow outside, Gizmo running around in the yard, kicking up white fluff. Her pulling on one of his hoodies, curling up against his side and reading whilst he played video games.
Chicago. Hmm.
Part Four