I feel so lucky that she's still here to comfort me now.
"Come on. You slept through breakfast and I didn't want to wake you. But you need to eat something."
She coaxes me to the kitchen and then makes me soup and a grilled cheese sandwich. I didn't think I was that hungry but before long I'm devouring my food. A warm sense of comfort rolls through me. After lunch we curl up on the couch and watch some television.
Eli comes in at some point, watching me with a worried look. I force a smile to let him know that I'm okay. Although I'm pretty sure I won't be okay for a while. I thought I'd found someone that understood me and appreciated all that I am. Finding out that wasn't real was a greater blow than I could have imagined.
I've gotten over humiliation and failure many times before but this feels like drowning.
* * * * *
The next few days are more of the same. Kay has several recording sessions and I force her to go so she can't hover over me the whole time. It's a little better when I'm alone. I listen to music and read some of the books on my e-reader that I haven't had time to get to before. Keeping myself busy gives me a break from thinking too hard. But nothing helps me at night. All the distractions in the world don't keep the dreams away.
It's a week later when I've finally had enough. When I wake up I immediately push the covers back. I still have the desire to cry but I shove it down deep. Maybe it's because I've spent so much of the last few months wallowing in humiliation but I am over it.
I am stronger than this.
Gabe lied and that hurts but the things I've learned about myself aren't dependent on how I feel about him. I am smart and I do have good ideas. My greatest strength is my willingness to laugh at myself and make the best of whatever situation I'm in. So that's what I'm going to do.
When I enter the kitchen, Kay and Eli are sitting around the breakfast table.
"Morning." I sit and try to ignore their shocked looks.
I've been alternately weepy and depressed for the last week so I'm sure my sudden chipper mood is a little strange. Eli watches me closely like he's afraid I'
m going to start sobbing at any moment.
"Good morning. Here, I know how much you love pancakes." Kay brings me a plate with pancakes and bacon. The smell surrounds me and my stomach growls. I drown the stack on my plate with syrup.
“This is great." I glance over at Eli. "You get to eat like this every day? You are so lucky."
Eli just hums and then shovels another forkful of pancake in his mouth. Since Eli has a stack on his plate that's twice as big as mine, I know he agrees. No one cooks like Kay.
Kay sits across from us and snags a piece of bacon off the plate in the middle of the table. "Breakfast is the most important meal. And I think we can all use a little pick me up right about now."
Kay and Eli talk about random things but my mind isn't on any of it. After we clean up the table from breakfast, I take a quick shower and try to make my hair look presentable. I glance over at my cell phone. No calls. No texts. Nothing. I put my phone in my pocket.
No wallowing allowed.
I really want to climb back beneath the covers but I know if I do that, Kay will feel like she has to check on me all day. She's pregnant and doesn't need the added stress of worrying about me.
I grab my laptop and headphones. My plan for the day is to be lazy and binge watch some shows on Netflix. When I walk downstairs, Kay is sitting on the couch reading a magazine. Hope is playing with a set of alphabet blocks on the floor. I kneel down next to her and kiss her chubby little cheek. Looking at her reminds me of that conversation I had with Kay before all this started. My goal was to find my strength. It was about more than just owning something and proving to my family that I'm more than just a pretty face. It was about taking control. Ever since I went on that stupid show, I've allowed others to control how I see myself. As a failure. As a laughingstock.
Well, no more.
When I worked with Jackson on a song a few months ago, I knew even then that he was doing it mainly as a favor to Kay. They'd even let me sing at her local album release party. As much as I'd appreciated that, in hindsight the best part was helping Jackson create the song. I'd learned a lot from him about production and mixing. He'd shown me that the smallest changes in the editing process could completely change the sound of a song and influence the way it was received.
I open my laptop and put on my headphones. For the first time in months, I navigate to Youtube and pull up the video.
THE VIDEO. The bane of my existence and the one thing my family and friends know they aren't allowed to talk about.
I glance over at Kay quickly but she's absorbed in something on her e-reader so I tentatively press play. I'm braced to feel the same sense of humiliation as the first time I'd realized my audition was out there for all to see and make fun of.
I watch on the screen as I walk onstage. Oh god, I still remember how it had seemed like an endless number of faces in the audience. The first judge, an older man with a head of shocking white hair speaks first.
“State your name.”
“Sasha Whitman.”