We're Trouble Bound

“What a fucking dickhead!” Jaime glared at the cell phone in her hand, half tempted to chuck it across the green room of Manchester Academy. But Nadine was in the room and Jaime had already been trying to hide her sour mood.

“What’s the yelling for?” Nadine asked but before Jaime responded Nadine continued talking. “I thought Oli would be here by now… I thought he’d be camped out waiting to see you the minute the bus pulled in…”

“That’s what the yelling is about.”

“Running late?” Nadine plucked a bottle of water from the catering cooler.

“No, being a fucking dickhead.”

This was the first Nadine had heard of any trouble between them. “What?”

“Nothing,” Jaime mumbled.

“No… what is it?” Nadine took a seat next to Jaime on the couch.

Jaime debated telling Nadine about the past couple weeks. She knew if she shared the entire story, Nadine as usual would make her strong opinion on the matter clear. And Jaime also knew that Nadine’s opinions would not be approving. It was after all, Jaime’s fault that Oliver was being a dickhead.

“I just asked him if he was coming and he said that he wasn’t sure, maybe.”

Nadine caught Jaime’s fraught tone and her eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

“And, uh… We haven’t really been talking lately.”

“Oh really?” Nadine shook her head disapprovingly. “So that’s why you’ve been a bitch lately.”

“Thanks.”

“So what’d you do now?”

“How do you know it was me that did anything?”

“Because it’s always you?”

“Thanks,” Jaime repeated coldly. “But I’ll have you know, he did something.”

“Uh huh.”

“He kissed some girl while he was drunk.”

“Oh,” Nadine was genuinely surprised that this would cause them to not be speaking.

Quietly and quickly, Jaime added “And told me he loved me.”

“Oh for crying out loud.” Nadine stood up. “And you’re fighting after that? Because he just kissed some girl? You’re a bitch.”

“I’m not mad at him for that. I’m not mad at him at all.”

Understanding crossed Nadine. “He’s mad at you.”

“I guess so.”

“Christ, did you have to shoot him down again? I know he’s not perfect but he means well.”

“I didn’t shoot him down.”

“So you said that you loved him back?”

“Well, no.”

“What did you say?”

Jaime thought about it. “I think I said ‘okay, cool’…”

“Okay, cool? Okay, cool! Are you emotionally retarded, Jaime Renee Caldwell? You must be.” Nadine took a calming breath. “Girl… I love you, you know I do. But you’re so fucking dumb. You say that you’re changing for the better and that you want to do good. But honestly, you’ll never REALLY change if you don’t learn how to deal with people.” Nadine reached for Jaime’s hand and pulled her up from the sofa. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To do some research.”

Jaime listlessly followed as Nadine dragged her down a hallway. When they came upon Danny and Troy, Nadine exclaimed. “Perfect! Before stopping in front of them. “Hey boys.”

They greeted accordingly.

“I have a totally hypothetical question for you.”

“Okay…” Danny said tentatively and Troy looked at her with a nod.

“Okay, say you’re in love with a girl and you’re pretty sure she’s in love with you…”

“Alright,” Troy waited for her to finish.

“And when you tell her you love her for the first time, what do you want her to say?”

Without even thinking, Danny responded “That she loves me too.”

“Yeah,” Troy agreed. “You’d feel real dumb if she didn’t.”

“Alright, so, what if after you said it, she said something like ‘okay, cool’?”

“Dude,” Danny said. “I’d probably punch her in the face. That’s a dick move.”

“For real,” Troy concurred. “The girl’s probably a bitch and I wouldn’t be in love with her in the first place?”

At this, Jaime tore her arm out of Nadine’s grasp. She could take beating herself up and even Nadine doing it but having the boys unknowingly assault her was too much. Jaime stalked away from them quickly, unable to take it. Nadine acted as though Jaime had no idea what she was doing. Jaime knew. She just didn’t know how to stop doing it.

Nadine had to run to catch up to Jaime who was storming away with her hands balled up into fists at her side. “Hey! Wait!”

Jaime whipped around. “No, fuck you.”

“I just wanted you to know—“

“Know what? That I’m ‘emotionally retarded’? Okay, thanks for letting me know. But trust me, I already knew. You could have saved yourself a little time.”

“Jaime…” She cooed.

“Nadine, just stop it. I don’t want to hear another condescending speech about living my life or loving Oliver or whatever today’s noble effort is.”

“I just want to help you.”

“Having Danny and Troy tell me what I dumb bitch I am is not helping. I know I’m a bit of a masochist sometimes, but Jesus, not like that.”

“I just wanted you to know…” But she couldn’t come up with a decent explanation. Nadine realized then that what she’d done had been a little rude.

“Well, I want you to know that I KNOW. I know what a complete fuck up I am. I know that he loves me and that I’ve wrecked any chance of him continuing to love me. You want me to know that? Message delivered.”

“Calm down.” Nadine made to touch Jaime’s arm but Jaime flinched away.

“I wish you would stop treating me like a child.”

“If you wouldn’t act like one, I wouldn’t treat you like one. And we could talk about what you’ve done like adults.”

“You think that any of this is easy for me? You think I don’t know what I’ve been doing? That I don’t fucking see exactly what I do to him? I do, trust me, I do. I can’t fucking help it. I can’t change the way I am. It fucking kills me to hurt him. But I feel like I have to. I HAVE to take everything I care about and fucking burn it down. Because that’s how love works with me.”

Nadine’s eyebrows furrowed. “You love him…”

“Of course I fucking love him. If I didn’t, hurting him would be nothing. I’d brush it off like I’ve been doing with every other guy for six years. But it isn’t nothing. Doing all this crap to him is like sawing off my hand with a butter knife. It’s painful and it takes away something I need. I need him. I fucking need him. And because of my fucked up head, I can’t have him.”

Nadine’s shoulders were slumping. “I, uh…”

“So don’t give me another lecture about love. I know love,” Jaime seethed, hot tears hit her cheek. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go sulk in the green room. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, go.” Nadine felt terrible but knew that sometimes, Jaime just needed some space. This would definitely be one of those times.

--

Jaime went directly to the green room, which was still abandoned, and she let herself fall into a chair. She put her face into her hands, perfectly okay to be crying.

For a long time, she remained in the same spot, unmoving and miserable. She deserved this. Whatever unhappiness that was upon her was all of her own creation. So she would take this desolation and live in it because she earned it through her actions.

She was still wallowing when a voice came. “Jaime?”

She looked up hopefully, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands. It was the wrong Sykes boy. It was the blue eyed baby brother. “Tom?”

“Yer cryin’…” He observed.

“Is he here?” She hurriedly asked, ignoring that he noticed her tears.

Tom looked strained before saying “No, ‘e’s not… not yet. I came up wiff Nicholls and Lee.”

“Oh.” She could feel her eyes struggling to keep from watering again.

“Do yeh need a tissue or summat? I could…”

“No, I’m fine. Thanks though.” She pushed her hair out of her face and looked at her feet. She was finding it useless to try and be strong in this moment. Even with someone else present. She just wanted to dissolve. “God, you all must fucking hate me for what I do to him,” she said, looking up briefly at Tom.

He shook his head. “No, we definitely don’t hate yeh; at least, I don’t. I mean, I don’t understand yeh and the fings yeh do. But I can’t hate yeh. Yeh’ve gone and turned Oli into a real person.”

“What?”

“Before yeh came along, ‘e didn’ really care ‘bout anyfin. ‘E was jus’ Oli fuckin’ Sykes, a rock star who fucked whateva came along and drank himself stupid. Tha’s all his life was about, yeh know? ‘Is reputation and name. Then yeh came into his life like a fuckin’ steamroller and changed everyfin.”

“That wasn’t my intention…”

“But it ‘appened and I’m glad it did. ‘Cause for once in his life ‘e cared about sumfin other than himself. ‘E’s my brother and I love ‘im no matter what… But I was worried ‘e were jus’ gonna spend his whole life pissin’ around.”

“There’s probably a good chance he might do that anyway. Or at least find someone who isn’t nearly as fucked up as I am.”

“Find sum’un else? Oli? Jaime, there’s no one else for ‘im. Jus’ you.”

“Tom, if he even shows up tonight, which at this point I’m doubting, it isn’t gonna be to have a big happy reunion. This is it for us.”

“I don’t fink tha’s true.”

A weary smile slipped over Jaime’s mouth. “I’m glad you’re a romantic. It’s sweet.” She wiped her eyes again, a streak of mascara appearing on her hand. “Fuck, I forgot I put on makeup today. Well, damn.”

Tom did not know Jaime very well but he knew that she seemed softer than usual. Her voice didn’t hold the same sharp edges it usually did. He wondered if she was always so different when she was upset. “Uh…” He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Have I got make up all over my cheeks?” She asked him.

“Not really, a bit,” he responded. “Are yeh—“

“I’m fine,” she said immediately. “I guess. I just… didn’t want it to be like this.”

“’E doesn’ want it to be like this either. An’ it doesn’ havta be. Yeh can change it.”

“I can’t. He’s not even going to come tonight. He doesn’t even want to see me.”

“I’m not so sure ‘bout tha…”

“He hates me.”

“Maybe… but not as much as ‘e loves yeh.”

Tom realized that this was a bad thing to have said the instant that Jaime started crying again. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was bad, because he’d said Oli hated her or because he’d said he loved her. Which would be worse to her?

“Oh Christ,” she murmured through her hands. “I’m sorry, Tom. I… don’t actually cry a lot.” In the past, this would have been a now-I-have-to-kill-you sort of sight to see. But she couldn’t find it in her to be sorry for crying. It felt relieving.

“’S o’reight, jus’ so long as yer okay.”

“I wish you would be a little meaner to me. It would be more appropriate.” She stood up from the chair she’d been trapped in.

“I don’ wanna be mean ta yeh… I know yeh aren’ the horrible person yeh seem ta fink yeh are.”

“Huh, thanks?” She felt a surprising fondness for Oliver’s brother just then. She’d always liked him just fine but the fact that he was rooting for her was quite endearing. “I’ve gotta go fix this make up business… I’ve gotta look fresh ‘til death, you know,” she half-heartedly joked. “I’m glad you guys came to the show.” She stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “If you tell anyone I was crying, I’ll kill you,” she added, a bit of her normal self peaking in past her cloudy attitude.

“So a tweet ‘bout it is out of the question?” He smiled and he reminded her painfully of his brother. She avoided the urge to cringe and gave him a wave goodbye.

Now, from what Tom knew, Jaime didn’t necessarily deserve any second chances from his brother. She absolutely tormented Oli with her instability. When they were fighting or apart, Oli turned into a self destructive mess. When they were in a good place, he was the happiest Tom had ever seen him. There was definitely something to be said for that.

When Jaime had disappeared from the room and was sure not to hear him, Tom pulled out his mobile. His brother picked up the phone after several rings with a very rude “Wha’ do yeh want?”

“Where are yeh?” Tom asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah, it matters or else I wouldn’ be askin’.”

“I’m sittin’ in my car.”

“So yer on yer way then?”

“No.”

“Eh?”

“I’m still in the fuckin’ car park. I’ve been sittin’ ‘ere since half fuckin’ four. I can’t start the car.”

“Is somefin wrong wiff it?”

“No.”

“Wha’ the—“

“I jus’ can’t do it, yeh know. I can’t see ‘er and get fuckin’ sucked in again. I know she’ll do it. She’ll jus’ bat ‘er goddamn eyelashes and look at me wiff those bloody eyes o’ ers and make a joke about it all and I’ll jus’ let ‘er. I won’t be able ta let ‘er go ef I see ‘er. But I can’t keep fuckin’ doin’ this. It’s gotta be over or else I’ll go fuckin’ mental. Yeh’ll find me swingin’ from a rope in the office and it’ll be ‘er fault.”

“Oli…”

“Yeh know I fink not goin’ is best. She’ll get the message better, prob’ly. No beatin’ ‘round the bush, yeh know? But at the same time, I want ta see ‘er. God, I want to fuckin’ see ‘er. I miss ‘er like crazy. Is that dumb? ‘S dumb, I know.”

Tom had never heard his brother ramble like this. “Uh, ‘s not dumb.”

“It’s fuckin’ dumb. And so am I. Complete soddin’ idiot. I’ve jus’ decided; I’m not goin’. I can’t. Can’t do it.”

“Oli, mate, I’ve jus’ seen ‘er.”

Oliver was silent for a minute. “Yeh have?”

“Yeh’ve got to come. She’s a wreck. I’ve not ever seen ‘er this way. She was fuckin’ sobbin’ when I walked in. I didn’ even know she could cry.” In the background, Tom could hear the sound of a car starting. “I thought she was immune ta it er summat. But she were doin’ it. Oli, yeh know ‘ow I feel ‘bout the situation…”

“Fuckin’ right, I do. Goddamn traitor, ‘s wha’ yeh are.”

“Not a traitor… I just think—Oh fuck it. Do whaever but for fuck’s sake, if yer goin’ ta break it off, at least be a real man and do it in person.”

“I, uh…”

“’S whaever. But I fink she should ‘ave a decent goodbye.”

Oliver knew it might be a bad idea to go to Manchester and say goodbye to Jaime one last time. But he was already driving out of the parking lot.

--

Jaime was sitting on a curb behind the venue when Oliver found her; it was deserted and dirty with an overflowing dumpster and peeling posters on the side of the building. She was smoking a cigarette, something which he’d only seen her do twice before, both times under inebriated circumstances. But she looked completely sober. More than sober, she looked serious. She didn’t see him yet, as he stood in the door way. He took the chance to study her, with her white blonde hair and gloomy eyes. It was exactly like the first moment he’d seen her. She hadn’t noticed him then either. She’d walked right past him. He wondered if he walked past her now, would she continue looking the other way, not seeing him. Hadn’t she been doing that the whole time he’d known her? Looking away from him. Not ever seeing the truth. Denying it when she could and setting it on fire if she had to. Thinking of this was painful for him. Like having your teeth pulled without Novocain.

She seemed so innocuous, just sitting there holding a cigarette in her hand. She was tiny, frail even. She was so utterly breakable. But sometimes it was impossible to think of her that way. She had made sure it was like that. Always exuding bravado and self-assurance. As she sat there, none of that forced confidence was present. She just looked like a sad and maybe lonely little girl having a smoke.

When she turned her head, maybe after hearing the scuffle of his shoes across the concrete, her face didn’t change at all. No hardened expression or sarcastic grin washed over her like he’d expected. She remained the little girl, wistful and sorrowful. She stared right at him, a sad slow smile brought her lips up at the edges and then she looked away again. She had acknowledged he was there. That was something.

He walked nearer and took a seat next to her, close but not touching. Though he had the urge to touch her then, especially because she looked so heartbreaking. He wanted to reach out and brush the fringe out of her eyes or take a hold of her hand. But he knew that would make this hurt worse.

“Hey,” she said. “You came.” Her voice was so soft that he could barely hear it. It held no defensive edge, as it always did when she was upset.

“Aye.”

“Did you get to see our set?” She was so casual but in a way that was unlike her, it was not brisk or easy. She was not herself. Or maybe, she was more herself than she’d ever been.

“The very end.”

“Nothing you haven’t seen before…” She shrugged and pressed her cigarette butt into the bottom of her shoe, blowing out a stream of smoke before saying “Did you see Sean’s new kit? It’s really pretty.”

“’S nice.”

Jaime refused to look at him. The doomed feeling that had been growing in her chest only expanded. She rolled her fingers over a rock on the ground and took a deep breath, closing her eyes and letting all the air out again. It was surprising to her how much hurt she could feel over just sitting next to him. He hated her; she could feel that too. She had finally done it. She had done one thing that he could not forgive. She’d known it would happen. She couldn’t have stopped herself from doing it. The worst parts of it all were that. That this was her fault and that she couldn’t change it.

To hurt him was the ultimate evil to her. It was worse than exploding at Nadine. Worse than remaining a mental fortress for six years. It was the absolute worst. She could feel his pain, the hatred, all the goddamn anguish she’d put him through. She could practically taste it lingering in the atmosphere, the taste terribly bitter and biting.

Could anything be as bad, she thought, than finally knowing how you felt about someone and also knowing that it probably doesn’t change anything? The only thing worse was knowing that there would be no one else. No one that would watch her sleep and pretend that he hadn’t. No one that could take a well deserved punch and be over it within the same minute. No one that would kiss her after she’d vomited. No one that would stay up late, taking Photobooth pictures and getting blazed in the bathroom of the bus with her. No one that would go out of their way, whether it was to her favorite restaurant or to another country. No one that felt the same under her palms, the perfect mix of electricity and comfort. No one that sent the same heat coursing through her veins as he sent. After you had that, there wasn’t anyone that would ever compare.

“So,” she spoke after minutes of silence. “It’s over, isn’t it?”

It was a simple enough question and mostly rhetorical because she felt as though she knew the answer. It felt an awful lot like the end to her.

“I… I dunno,” he responded, putting his face into his hands and rubbing the creases of his forehead. “Maybe, yeah.”

Jaime got to her feet, standing in the same spot she’d been sitting and looking up at the dark sky. The royal purple and blue starless sky reminded her of something. “Were all stars to disappear or die, I should learn to look at an empty sky and feel its total dark sublime, though this might take me a little time.” She recited this smoothly, as if she were reading it from a book.

Oliver tilted his head to the side and said “Wha?”

“When I was in the hospital,” she prefaced. She certainly was feeling very sorry for herself. “I was having trouble remembering things because of my head. Not anything major, not like names or anything. Just short term memory stuff. The doctor’s said that it was nothing and could always be like that. But it would piss me off so bad. So I took my school English book and would try and memorize things from it. That thing, what I just said… It’s a poem. The only one I can still remember. It’s called the More Loving One.” Jaime chewed the corner of her lip. A shot of pure pain hit Oliver. Why did she look so fucking sublime right then? So effortlessly unhappy but still agonizingly pretty.

“Oh,” he muttered, not knowing how to respond to her story.

She shook her head, like snapping out from a daze. “Sorry, my head is all over the place tonight, you know?” She didn’t look at him. She looked at everything but him. “I think that I know what’s next but I’m not ready for it. It’s like when you’re about to miss the school bus. You know that it will invariably come when you’re tying your shoes. Not ready.”

“Eh?” He could see that she was all nerves and loose ends. It was terrifying to him. It was like her layers were falling away.

“You didn’t take a school bus, huh? I missed my bus so many times." The way she said the last sentence made Oliver believe she was talking about something else entirely. “I’m doing it again. Wandering. Not that I had anything in mind to say for this moment. Especially because I thought you weren’t coming. You were just going to leave it at that.”

“I always show up for you,” he stated. “Eventually.”

“Yeah…” She sighed. “Thanks for that.”

“Jaime, I—“

“No, just wait, okay?” She pleaded. “Not yet.”

So he remained quiet.

“I don’t suppose we could have sex right now…” Jaime said lightheartedly but she sounded rather desolate.

“I don’ fink tha’ would ‘elp.”

“Not after it was over. But it would be nice while it was happening.”

“True…”

Jaime sighed, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I’m sorry it’s like this.”

“Are yeh really?”

She should be angry at his tone and his statement but she couldn’t be angry with him. Only herself. “I am.”

“I’d like to believe that.”

“Would you understand if I said that I couldn’t stop myself from doing all those things to you?”

“I don’t know if I’d believe it,” he stated flatly.

“That’s fair, I guess. But I hope you can believe that I don’t want to hurt you… That’s just how my brain works. To me, love is hurt.” It might have sounded cliché but it was just a fact of her thoughts.

“Love is hurt,” he repeated. “I can believe that.” He nodded, definitely agreeing with this notion. Abruptly, he realized what they were talking about. “Wait wha? Love?”

But she continued on with explaining herself. “In my experience, you think you love someone and they say they love you and then you get hurt. It’s funny, you know? I didn’t know that actually loving someone could hurt… Could be so painful that it can debilitate you. Sometimes when I thought about you my whole body would just ache. Like this underneath everything sort of pain… Does that make sense?”

“Uh huh.”

“But then I’d see you or talk to you and the fact that the ache was still there didn’t make sense then either because you were making me happy. I didn’t know why things hurt so much if they were supposedly good. Maybe it’s just me… I can’t understand so clearly sometimes.”

Right then, Oliver didn’t understand much of anything she was saying. But it sounded sort of promising. “Wha’ are yeh sayin’?”

“I’m saying that I’ve been understanding things better lately.”

“And wha’ is it yeh’ve been understandin’?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about things, all the shit I put you through… And there was only one explanation.”

“An’ wha’s that?”

“You love me.”

“I been tryin’ ta tell yeh tha’ for months.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you… It’s hard. Love is a touchy subject for me.”

“Tha’s a bit of an understatement,” he said with an anxious laugh.

She smiled dryly. “Maybe a bit. But… I’m doing a lot better about it.”

“Is tha’ right?”

“Mmhmm. But I… don’t know what to do.”

“I think yeh do know wha’ to do.” His face was grave, serious.

She did know. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because the only person I’ve ever said it to subsequently tried to kill me.”

“I ‘ope yeh know I won’ try an’ kill yeh.”

“I know that.”

“So jus’ say it. ‘S simple.” He stood up at this, again having the urge to grab a hold of her but refrained.

“It isn’t simple … I’m terrible to you. I make you miserable sometimes.”

“I’m fine with being miserable sometimes cause without you I’d never be really happy at all. ‘Cause without you, I’m not me. Yeh make me feel good, like a good person. Yeh make me feel whole.”

“Oh god, Oliver, I’m trying to be noble by letting you do what you came here to do.”

“I never said I came ‘ere to end it.”

“But that’s what you should do.”

“I should and I wanted to.”

“Then just do it.”

“I dunno ef I can, knowin’ there’s a chance you’ll finally fuckin’ say tha’ yeh love me.”

She groaned. “Why? Why do you need to hear me say it? Why do I have to say it?”

“’Cause ef yeh don’t, I’m walkin’ away righ’ now and tha’s it.” He gave this ultimatum with his most confident tone but his guts were mush. He couldn’t deny it; he’d be crushed if after all her explanations, she couldn’t say three more words.

She was silent, staring at him with an overwrought expression. After all the things she’d asked of him, he was asking her to do this one small thing. She’d said everything but what he wanted to hear. Her brain, the stubborn closed off fortress, still pushed her towards silence while everything else was pulling in the opposite direction, towards him. This is how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be with him. Everyone had known that all along. She had known that all along.

The first time she had seen him was out the window of their van when they’d arrived at the venue two hours late. She knew what he thought, that she had not seen him standing against the wall pretending to check his phone, that she was immune to his presence. But how could she not have seen him? With his endless tattoos and messy hair, it was impossible to not see him. She had known then exactly what he could be to her. And though she’d been scared of the idea, she could not have stopped herself. All of it, whether it was hurting him or loving him, would always be out of her control.

So as they stood there inches apart, with Oliver staring at her and waiting for her answer, she knew what her choice was. There had really only ever been one option.