Blood on my hands
My heart on the floor
I was your fancy girl with diamonds and pearls
Sitting here in this chair having my hair and makeup professionally done seems like a dream. This is all so surreal. I’m trying to ignore the fact that I have to share in this once in a lifetime opportunity with Jameson. I won’t let him ruin this for me. The past is over. We have both moved on with our lives. Him sooner than I did, but I need to let go and focus on the now. I know he thinks we need to talk, but the time for talking is long gone. Dredging up the past will only do us both harm. I don’t want to go back. I’ve wasted so much time wondering why, but I have to face the reality that the why doesn’t matter. It won’t change what occurred between us.
I stare at my reflection and dang this makeup artist doing my face and hair is the best. I look like a movie star. A real bad ass with sleek but wavy hair rolling over my shoulders. My lips are a matte peachy shade that really brings out my ey
es. I move to wardrobe and am dressed in a white sheer dress with a lace overlay that cuts off at my knees. The ensemble is complete with a sunflower pendant necklace, cropped jean jacket, and brown boots.
There is time to kill before we take to the stage for dress rehearsals, so I take the time to wander around set soaking it all in. the lights, the cameras…everything that makes up the stage. The stage we all are to perform on has black shiny flooring with the show’s logo in the center with a gold star. I never thought I would be getting my chance. I kind of wrote music off after things with Jameson. I went through years of depression after my miscarriage. College was good for me, but I sort of just existed and didn’t really live. Sure, I went out and made friends but none of it ever felt genuine. It was hard to trust anyone after being so shattered by the one person I thought would never in a million years hurt me. I pursued a teaching degree in early education. I am supposed to start a new job in the fall. Wes didn’t want me to work. He wanted to start a family. I thought that I wanted that too, but maybe I just didn’t want it with him.
When I met Wes, I was just coming out of the fog and off my medication I was prescribed for depression. I thought I could be happy with him and in time learn to love him. Turns out he was just another wolf in sheep’s clothing. I know I was wrong for leading him on, but it doesn’t excuse his behavior with me.
“Hey. Peyton, right?” I turn around to see Viola, the host of the show sashaying toward me with an eager smile. She’s gorgeous if you are into the skinny waif with huge implants, hair extensions, lip injections, and teeth so white they don’t even appear real look. I know it sounds bitchy but women like her give girls everywhere a false sense of what beauty is and the strive to be like that and so perfect is an epidemic.
“Oh. Hey.” I return her smile though mine isn’t quite as bright.
“What do you think? It’s pretty amazing isn’t it?”
I bob my head. “It is. I was just soaking it all in you know. Had to pinch myself.”
“Who do you think is your biggest competition? Just between us girls.” She winks.
“Oh.” Her question catches me off guard. “I have no idea honestly. I haven’t even heard everyone sing yet.”
“Well, there must be someone you have sized up, but what do you think of the judges?”
“They all seem nice. Professional from what I can tell.”
“That Jameson is a real hottie, huh?” Her elbow digs into my side, and I want to jab her back with mine but refrain.
“I guess he’s alright if you are into the whole tortured musician who will only ever break your heart thing.”
“Sounds like you know from experience.”
“Nope.” I recover quickly. “Just an observation. If you’ll excuse me, I need to hit the ladies room.” I hurriedly walk away from her. Maybe she is simply trying to be friendly, but the awkward conversation felt more like an interrogation than anything else.
Flashback
“Shit,” I hiss as some dickhead nearly takes me out with his briefcase. Coffee splashes down the front of my skirt. I’m interning as an assistant for my father for the summer at his firm. I think he is still hoping I will change my mind and go into law, but it isn’t going to happen. I do need the money that he is offering so here I am.
“I’m so sorry,” the dickhead mutters reaching me his silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket.
Seriously. Like that little fancy scrap of fabric is going to do anything for my ruined yellow skirt. I just bought it too. “It’s fine.” I wave him off even though I want to cry. Today is only my third day but I keep screwing everything up. I accidentally hung up on an important client yesterday and the day before that I shredded the wrong file.
“It gets better, you know. Working here I mean.”
“Right.” I smile.
He extends his hand to me. “I’m Wes. You don’t remember me, do you?”
“Have we met?” I squint at him.
“Christmas party, you were here with your father.”
“Oh yeah,” I totally lie. These dudes in their suits all look the same to me.