Under My Boss's Direction

“Oh, is she cute?”

“Naw, more like smokin’ hot.”

“Goodie goodie gumdrops.”

We were past the point of picking up on sarcasm. We had been friends too long, and more or less assumed most things had at least a tang of irony to them.

We were from the tail-end of Gen X, after all. The fact of the matter was, in my experience, that being pretty brought problems. I had a feeling that Clara would be trouble, way back then, and I should have listened to my gut.

“Clove?” she had asked, offering me a cigarette.

“No thanks.”

“Mormon?” she guessed, blowing out a puff.

It was 1997 or thereabouts and smoking indoors was still legal in most states. As much as I hated it, I had to admit she did make it look sexy.

“Nope. Just mortal,” I pointed out. “And planning to continue being that way for a long time.”

“Interesting,” Clara said, actually seeming to ponder what I had said.

The sparks were instant and the fire they lit burned bright for about a year. Right up until the ‘98 tour.

Things cooled significantly then, with Clara getting paranoid that I was cheating on her, that I had a girl in every town, or at least that I was fucking groupies on the regular. Never mind the fact that most of our fans were guys. Plus, I was faithful, although she seemed convinced otherwise.

If anyone was hooking up with anyone else on the road, it was Cam, who was happily unattached. Even if I’d had the opportunity, I wouldn’t take it, obviously because I was with Clara, but also, even if I was single, I just wouldn’t have the time. I spent most nights on tour or at the hotel, working on new lyrics or practicing my basslines with headphones on.

And yet she still never believed me. Her constant paranoia and jealousy just got to be too much, and I ended it. Or, so at least I’d thought.

It was uncanny, really.

Just when I thought I’d really moved on, as in, literally moving to a different end of town, meeting a new girl, focusing on the label following the implosion of the band, Clara had appeared again.

I had been dating a nice girl named Luna. Maybe we didn’t have a future together but it was good for the time being. But Clara had come back and ruined all of that.

Just like she had come back now. Strolling back into my house like she owned the place and into my life as if she belonged there. When she totally didn’t.

“See?” Clara asked, after Jonna ran out. “They will always leave you. It’s always fuck and run with those sluts, but I’m the only one who loves you.”

“You might not want to be quoting Liz Phair lyrics while making a declaration of love,” I told her. “It just doesn’t sound right. Particularly after what you did to Luna. I know she didn’t just leave me voluntarily, and you know that, too. In fact, you’re the one who caused her demise.”

“Oh, come now, lover. You know that was an accident.”

“Freud said there are no accidents.”

“Freud is a lying prick who made things up after coming to unsettling conclusions about the daughters of rich assholes,” she spat back. “The truth of the matter is, I didn’t know Luna was allergic to shellfish. Just that she didn’t like them. I was trying to annoy her and maybe make her a little sick, not kill her.”

“It doesn’t make her any less dead.”

“I know, and I think about it every day.”

Just for a moment, the facade finally dropped, and I saw Clara for how she really was. She was certainly the type to lie about an accident, but I really didn’t think she had, at first. Clara had been clingy and vindictive, and I could see her pulling a prank, making Luna feel ill.

I didn’t think she was a killer. And here she was proving me wrong once again.

“We aren’t getting back together,” I said now, firmly.

“I think you might change your mind.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll tell everyone about the little tart who just ran out,” she threatened me. “She was an intern, right? Some bright young thing wanting to learn about the industry, open to some new experiences?”

It stung how right she was.

Not entirely, of course.

There was more to it than that.

I wanted Jonna in the carnal sense, but I also had feelings for her that I’d never experienced for anyone else. When I first proposed that we work together from my house, I thought it could be a fun fling, just to get her out of my system.

I knew I wanted her, knew I would take her and claim her body— her very essence— as I made her my pet. But I didn’t know she would claim my heart. Things had very much not gone according to plan.