It’s okay to put yourself first.
KIM
September
It had been seven weeks since I’d talked to Devlin. Seven weeks since I’d left home. Seven weeks since I’d remembered what it felt like to be Kim Dae. I wasn’t even sure I knew who Christine Day was, either.
The reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was a caricature of a person. A caricature that got a lot of likes, and re-posts, and compliments. Empty clicks from faceless people.
After the Fourth of July concert, which had gone as rehearsed, sans one cellist, Devlin had gone MIA and his concerto had been put on hold indefinitely. There was no bonus cello solo performance. I wasn’t going back to the SOOK if there was no show. I’d committed to help with the showcase, but with Devlin gone, my commitment was voided.
Devlin had made it clear what I was to him. I all but asked him to love me and he had told me he’d replace me with another cellist. I couldn’t let myself think about it or sickness would eat away at me. The numbness of tour was the way to go. Never had I itched more for those days of Jethro, for the drugged-out haze of life.
Roddy had already booked several stops throughout the Southeast playing local theaters that seated around three hundred. Tonight was the last show of the summer tour, and I was grateful. I was numb and empty. When asked if that was what I wanted, I simply nodded. I had no opinion. I didn’t care. I just didn’t want to hurt anybody else.
Roddy assured me that he was working on more bookings for the fall and soon we would be filling stadiums. Stadiums of people wanting to see Christine Day. What a life. The crowds were pretty decent even now. He’d done a good job of taking care of my social media presence. When I flipped through the pictures on Instagram, I didn’t recognize myself. There weren’t any traces of Kim Dae. It was Christine Day. Long flowing hair, fancy electric cello, false lashes, and heavy makeup. She was beautiful, but she was a different person.
It wasn’t an easy life. I worked nonstop. The distraction helped push aside the constant ache in my heart. The countryside blurred into hotel rooms and stages. I was grateful though, and thanked the venues and the fans. Many people dreamed of this life. And Roddy, bless his heart, he took care of everything. The fans grew with every show. It was all happening very fast, but he wasn’t surprised.
“That’s how it happens nowadays. That’s why you have to keep up with it. You’re doing great,” he’d said.
A few times he’d tried to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested in him that way. I made it clear before ever leaving on tour, we’d be in separate rooms and I was not his girlfriend. I was a business partner. His only response was that he was happy to go slow. He’d wait for me. The truth was, I felt nothing. This was how I felt before Devlin. Before he turned up in my life and turned everything upside down. Now, every sporadic memory of happiness was linked with a man I fought to forget.
I missed my parents and their weird ways. I missed my girls in the SWS and Erin. I missed swimming. I even missed the symphony. I didn’t miss Carla—I wasn’t that out of it. I felt myself getting stir-crazy even with all the moving around we were doing. It was the same routine even if it was different every two or three days.
We were at a hotel in—I wasn’t even sure what city we were in. I was tired already. I loved playing and meeting people, but this was draining. I was set to go on stage again in another hour for the last show of this tour. I was too tired to even lift my head from my bed.
“Knock, knock,” Roddy said as he peeked in his head through our shared door. Hadn’t that been locked? “Hope you’re decent.”
I waved from the bed. “Hey.”
“What are you doing? We gotta get going soon.” His gaze moved over my prone form. “Your hair isn’t done.”
“I thought I could put it up tonight. I keep pulling it when I play.”
“Oh, that’s frustrating. Man, I totally understand why you’d want it up. But—” He made this face like he was going for pained? Concerned? “But you have your brand now. When you’re a household name, we can play around with your style, but for now we have to keep a real consistent look. Plus, it looks so beautiful when it’s down and flowing.”
I sat up and dragged my feet to the bathroom. I began the hour-long routine of doing my hair. Roddy stood in the doorway, smiling as he leaned against the frame.
“What?” I asked.
He was watching me in the mirror as I pinned up different sections of hair. “You’re just so beautiful.”
I smiled back, but my reflection showed it didn’t reach my eyes. “Thank you.”
He said it a lot, especially, and almost pointedly, more often when I was done up.
Every time he did, it spurred the image of me tired and undone with Devlin smiling down at me. Had Devlin ever told me I was beautiful? I couldn’t recall. And yet I’d never felt more beautiful than I had when he smiled at me with soft eyes, or fire in them as I stretched over him. That was when I’d felt most perfect.
My stomach soured and I pushed the thoughts away. Over these last few weeks there were so many times my mind pulled up memories from our brief time together. Each time, I examined the scene in a different light. I forced myself to see it through the lens of reality, not the rosy hue of sentimentality. I knew that I was a muse. He would offer me no more.
Roddy stayed in the room while I got ready. I felt like I was being checked up on. I got dressed and suddenly felt like I couldn’t take a moment more of this life. I knew I should be grateful but …
I couldn’t do this. I shook with the nerves that came with voicing my opinion. My outfit was tight and revealing. My breasts were pushed up and my hair was long and loose around my shoulders. My eyelashes were as fake as all the makeup covering my face. Who was this person? Could I just go home and curl up in a ball?
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said to Roddy. My voice must have sounded as panicked as I felt because he immediately came to my side.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” He brushed my cheeks. “Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your pretty face.”
“I can’t do this. This isn’t—” Panic crushed in on me all at once.
This wasn’t what? The words were so close to the surface.
“I don’t want this life. After this tour is done, after tonight’s show, I’m going home.” I said on a rush. I couldn’t believe it. I said it and I knew it. I knew in that moment that while this was a wonderful life and so many people would be happy to have it, it wasn’t what I wanted.
Roddy wrapped his arms tight around me. “No, shh. You’re tired. It’s too much too soon.”
“No, I don’t want—”
“Listen. You need to relax. I put too much on you too soon. Try this.”
Out of his pocket, he pulled a small, unmarked prescription bottle. My heart raced at the sight of it.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s all natural. An herbal supplement. My doctor told me about it when I wasn’t sleeping. It’ll calm your nerves.”
My hands reached for the bottle as my mind screamed no. But a little part of me wanted it. I’d taken a lot of pills before I’d detoxed, all sorts of shapes and sizes and colors. I couldn’t remember what any of them were or what they did besides bring oblivion. This pill could bring freedom. I could let go. I’d been holding on so tightly to a life I didn’t want. I’d worked so hard to make it fit. If I took this pill maybe I could just exist.