Because of a Song

My mom plopped a large stack of envelopes on the kitchen table in front of me. “More fan mail,” she said. “Just picked it up from the office.”

I groaned. It wasn’t that I didn’t like fan mail, but, well--it got tiring after a while: all those girls claiming they were your biggest fan, based solely on the fact that they knew all the words to every one of your songs; multiple guys claiming they were your one true love, probably based solely on the fact that they thought you were ‘hot’.

That’s what hurt me. I had thought I had already found my one true love.

Then he broke up with me over a two-minute-long phone conversation and that was that.

And I had never been the same.

Sure, physically I was the same. But emotionally, I was a wreck. It had been 9 whole months, and the pain of his harsh, cruel words still haunted me. It was slowly going away, but at the pace of a snail.

I wasn’t sure when it was going to go away.

I needed closure. Something to happen to show me that everything was going to be okay, that I didn’t need him anymore. That no matter how much I still wanted to believe he was the same sweet guy I met at the fairgrounds 4 years back, he wasn’t.

So I did the only thing in the world that managed to cheer me up: I read my fan mail.

Picking up the first envelope, a light pink one with a flower sticker to seal the flap, I smiled. Little girls were my favorite fans. They were too young to judge me, let alone know what was going on. But they still loved my music like no other.

Written on lined stationary, with a unicorn in the top right corner, in barely legible chicken scratch, was, Lauren, I love your music! You are sooooo cool! Love, Anna

I smiled, then opened the next one.

Lauren,
I just wanted to let you know that you inspire me to follow my dreams. I’ve always wanted to be a singer, and you’ve given me the courage to go out and pursue it. I have a meeting with a record exec in a few days. Maybe I’ll get to meet you some day.
-Kristen Carmichael

I felt a tear slip down my cheek. My mom chose this moment to walk into the room. She immediately noticed my lone tear and asked, “What’s wrong?”

I let out a tiny laugh. “Nothing,” I said. “Really.”

It was just that letters like this made all the pain, and all the hard work I put into my album, all worth it.

“Okay,” my mom said. “I’ll be in the living room reading. I just came in here to get some coffee.”

I nodded, then continued to read more of my fan mail.

---

“DUDE!” Stephen yelled, running into the dining room, where I was still looking at my fan mail. I looked up and saw that Stephen’s hair was sticking up in different directions and his shirt was partly torn. Yet he had a smile on his face. “I LOVE YOU!” he yelled. “I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!”

“Wow,” I said. “That’s--interesting. What exactly did I do to get this, again?”

Stephen looked at me incredulously, like I was some sort of alien or something. “Are you KIDDING me?” he said. “Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“LANGUAGE!” my mother yelled from the living room.

I laughed. Normally, this would make Stephen upset, but he didn’t seem to notice. It was like he was in some sort of daze, off in his own world. “Because of you,” Stephen said, “girls are all over me! I’m a chick magnet! I’m a fricking chick magnet!”

Oh God.

“That’s just amazing, Stephen. Really. But could you do me a favor and not tell me about anything that happens to you anymore. I don’t want to hear about how chicks ‘dig your vibe and think you’re the shit’ or whatever.”

Stephen walked over and sat in the chair next to me. “Sure thing, big sister. You’re the best, you know that?”

“So I’ve heard,” I muttered. Stephen looked at me, apparently not having heard what I said. “I know,” I said, giving him a sweet smile. “Look,” I told Stephen, “I’m going to go up to my room, and if you’re smart, you’ll change your shirt, or, better yet, take a shower. God knows you need one, and if mom sees you like this, you’re going to be dead meat. Because, honestly, you look like you either: a. got jumped; or b. had sex. Either way, mom’s going to be pissed.”

A look of panic came over Stephen’s face. “You’re right!” he said. “I’ll see you later, favorite sister!” He hugged me, really tightly actually, and then rushed out of the room.

Two minutes later, I could hear the water from the showerhead turn on.

---

“Lauren?” My mom walked into my room. “Halloween’s tomorrow. Do you have plans with Natalie?”

I looked up from the book I was reading. “Actually, Natalie has to babysit Nathan.”

I had already told my mom about how Natalie’s sister came back, and left Nathan with Natalie and her parents, so when I told her this, she made a sad face and said, “Oh, well that’s too bad. Maybe next year.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But for this year,” I said, trying to change the conversation from awkward to moving forward, “I’m thinking about going with Stephen and his friends. You know how they’re going to be the Power Rangers? Well I could be the pink one.”

My mom laughed, causing me to smile. “I think that’s a great idea, Lauren. It would be a good bonding experience between you two.”

I nodded. “Yeah, it would.”

“What would be what?” Stephen asked, walking into my room unannounced. I noticed his hair was wet and plastered to his face, and he had changed into a new pair of clothes.

“Your sister was thinking about going trick-or-treating with you and your friends tomorrow night. Something about being a pink Power Ranger?”

“YES!” Stephen said. “I like that idea! My buddy Roger was going to be the pink one, but I can talk him into being the green one, no worries.”

“Alright then,” I said. “It’s settled. I’m going to be the pink Power Ranger for Halloween this year.” I smiled at Stephen, who smiled back.

When he left, my mom gave me an odd look, like, What’s going on between you two?

I just smiled. “Don’t worry mom, we’re okay.”

“Alright,” she said. “I’m going to go make dinner, alright?”

I nodded. “Sounds good, mom.”

---

Ten minutes later, Stephen rushed up the stairs and barged into my room, carrying a large package. “The mail just came. It’s for you.” He handed the package to me and said, quite forcefully, “Open it! Now!”

I rolled my eyes, then looked at the return address. My eyes almost bulged out of my head. Jonas.

“What is it? Why aren’t you opening it?” Stephen asked.

I shook my head, then gently slid my finger under the tape on the box. Inside was a two-pound bag of Tootsie Rolls. At the bottom, I found a note.

Written in what was unmistakably Joe’s scrawl was I know these are your favorites. Enjoy.

That was it. I looked on the back of the note, inside the box, outside the box, everywhere. But I didn’t find any “Kevin or Nick told me to do this.” or “By the way - they’re poisoned.”

Nothing.

It seemed as if Joseph had done something--nice.