We're Trouble Bound

Jaime Caldwell, Epitaph’s accident-prone Princess, isn’t drinking a beer when we meet up at a late March stop of Keep Your Composure’s spring headlining tour. Instead she is sprawled out on one of the faux-leather sofas of their tour bus, sorting through a stack of paperwork and sipping coffee from a Starbucks cup. Her harsh white blonde hair is pulled up out of her face, exposing both a long scar running down her cheek and a fresh still healing tattoo on the side of her neck. The new ink, an elaborately colored floral piece, is an addition to the extensive tattoo work lining the rest of her small body. She is barely 5’2” with thin limbs and curvy hips; she is strikingly pretty. But something still looks off about the scene and I am again reminded that she is not drinking a beer, a mixed drink or alcohol of any kind. This is a source of sudden questioning.

I’ve met Jaime on two previous occasions. The first time I watched as she went shot for shot of Jagermeister with four grown men and though none of them walked gracefully away from the table, Jaime was one of two to even walk away at all. Our second meeting was for an interview but the night is a blur. The next morning I woke to find my tape recorder full of good material and a hangover from hell. So upon realizing that she is completely sober for this interview and ready to have a nice relaxed sit down talk, I am taken back. Is this the same die-hard rough and crazy chick I met a year ago?

Most certainly.

She still has the same vulgar mouth and sharp humor. The tattoos are still obviously there and her ability to make a crowd descend into beautiful and brutal organized chaos is also intact. She’s definitely the same. The only difference is that she’s trying to clean up her act. “It’s been over two months since I’ve been drunk,” she admits with a proud grin. What started out as a simple bet, between Jaime and Bring Me the Horizon front man Oli Sykes to see who could go the longest without booze, has turned into a committed life choice. Given her previous penchant for partying, it is initially quite surprising. But after the shock wears off, it makes a lot of sense. “When you get to the point where you’re putting your life in danger, you start realizing that it may not be worth the good time,” she says very somberly. “I never really considered myself an alcoholic or anything like that. I wasn’t having a beer when I got up in the morning or driving drunk. But being ‘that girl’ was what I was known for. I was the girl stumbling around or getting into fist fights or whatever. I made that reputation for myself and I didn’t have a problem with it. I still don’t mind it. I still love being the loudest, craziest person in the room. But I want that to be just part of how people see me. I want to be able to say that I’ve got some redeeming qualities too.”

Jaime’s redemption strategy starts with her newly formed domestic violence charity Never Again, a joint effort between Caldwell and the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence (NCADV). “This initiative is geared toward ending the stigma and the silence,” Jaime explains. “The problem I faced and continue to face is being afraid of talking about it.” After a six year silence, Jaime now openly admits to being a victim of an abusive relationship when she was a teenager. At sixteen, a physical altercation with her then-boyfriend left Jaime in intensive care. “I was afraid that people would see me as weak because of it and I really didn’t want that,” she admits. “So I kept quiet. By doing that, I closed myself off from ever really being able to get over it.” Jaime decided that the best way to overcome her own silence was to help others overcome theirs. “I want to be one hundred percent open about it and maybe that can inspire some people to do the same.”

Never Again’s first project was fundraising for NCADV through the sale of t-shirts; the first design reads “Know When To Say Never Again”. Because all shirts were printed through donated money and services, one hundred percent of profits go to the fight against domestic violence. The second project on Jaime’s agenda is a series of benefit concerts. Jaime’s hometown of Pittsburgh will play host to the first of these concerts on June 7th. She says that the bands aren’t finalized quite yet but a lot of her friends have volunteered and are eager to participate.

Though she seems fairly confident in the endeavor, Jaime has her doubts about whether people can take her seriously. “This is important to me and I think that I feel really dejected if anyone scoffs at it.” Despite her best efforts, there have been some skeptics. “Someone asked me how I could be in a band that supports violent acts and preach against domestic violence.” KYC’s lyrics often depict darker themes, including cannibalism (“Mercy Me”) and murder (“Love You To Death”). But Jaime is willing to defend the music. “I was fucking appalled when they said that to me. Yeah, okay, some of the lyrics I write or Gavin writes are really vicious. But the lyrics have never been a reality. It’s a song, for fuck’s sake. Some people can be pretty dense.”

The twenty-two year old Mt. Lebanon, PA native is prone to these kinds of sudden serious moments. In past interviews, one could tell that she was covering a somber side to her personality, wanting to only show the rambunctious front woman persona. But now that she has moved past her party-girl ways and settled down, you can tell that she’s more comfortable in her own skin. When I suggest this, she’s open to the idea. “Yeah, maybe that’s it. But I don’t know. Life is just kind of good right now. I’m at a good place.”

When I question her on whether part of the good in her life comes from the notorious Oli Sykes, Jaime’s internet-alleged boyfriend, she just rolls her eyes. She’s used to these kinds of questions. Ever since the first moment they were spotted together, speculation has flared. “First people said we hated each other and then that we were dating and then that we weren’t and then that we were but he was cheating on me. All of that was during like two weeks last [September]. And at that point, we barely knew each other. It was insanity.” Jaime finds the invasive internet world confusing. She expresses that she doesn’t understand the need for constant information or the fascination with putting your business out there. “When you start kicking it with someone, hanging out or getting to know each other, the first thing you do isn’t run and write a blog or get on fucking Twitter to tell the world ‘hey this person and I may get together’. That’s not how it is. Or well, that’s not how it is with me.” Though she’s tired of talking about it, after some coercion, she’s willing to set a few things straight. Reluctantly, she spoke. “For awhile, we didn’t know what we were. Both of us had these massive bad reputations that we could choose to uphold or to totally destroy. I guess that was a kind of funny thing about the gossip… That everyone was convinced our histories would hold us back or tear us apart. When really, it was those things that made us work.” As she talks about this, there is an unmistakable brightness in her voice. It’s clear she’s very fond of him. When I bring this up, the generally stoic Jaime blushes. “I don’t think people give him enough credit. They think he’s this crazed drunken asshole. I mean, that’s pretty true. But honestly, he’s a really good guy. Don’t tell him I said that though.”

When I push her further, asking her to absolutely confirm or deny that they are in fact a couple, she scoffs once more. “Look it up online, I’m sure someone knows.”

--

Jaime groaned. “He’s got five fucking minutes to show up before I go on stage for him,” she stated firmly to Nadine and Nicholls.

“Yeh’d prob’ly do better than ‘im,” Matt said with a laugh.

“You’re sure you don’t know where he is?” She looked at them skeptically. “He knows how important this is to me…”

“We’ve no clue, love,” Matt stated apologetically.

“Ugh, I’m going to kill him. When he gets here, I’m going to take his mic chord, wrap it around his neck and string him from the fucking rafters.”

Nadine chimed in “I think that might be counterproductive to the anti-violence message you’re trying to send.”

“Christ,” Jaime mumbled.

“I’m sure he has a good reason for being late,” Nadine said gently.

Jaime sighed and walked away. She had spent countless hours organizing, planning and executing this event, a benefit show to raise money for her ever expanding organization, Never Again. The gig had been her project all spring. She’d acquired a location, sponsors and bands, including Bring Me the Horizon. She had a hard time believing Oliver would skip the show. Even if they had been fighting or something, which they presently were not, he would not do that to her.

She stepped outside only to encounter Tom on his way in. “The Sod’s still not ‘ere?” Tom asked.

“And won’t answer his goddamn fucking phone,” she added venomously.

“’E’ll show up.” Tom put an arm around her shoulder.

“Well, they’re supposed to be on in five minutes. Everything is all ready to go and he’s not fucking here.” She exhaled sharp and dramatically. “Dumb fucking asshole.”

“I’m sure there’s—“

“A good reason he’s not here. Yes. I know. I’ve heard that several times.”

“’E’s not the brightest…”

“True facts,” she pouted. “I’m going to kill him.”

“An’ I’ll give yeh permission ef ‘e don’t show up.”

“Good, I’d feel terrible having to tell you AND your parents I murdered Oliver. Maybe you and me can break it to them together… I mean they HAVE to love you.”

“Sometimes, I fink they love yeh more than they love Oli.”

“They should. He’s a bastard.”

“’Oo’s a bastard?” Someone said from behind them. Tom and Jaime simultaneously turned around. Oliver stood there, one arm behind his back, goofy expression across his face.

Jaime lunged forward. “Oliver Scott Sykes!” She punched him hard in the arm, avoiding his head only because he would have to go on stage with his face functional. “You good-for-nothing, lousy douchebag! I did not spend months planning this show for you to ruin it with your goddamn—“

“Well, ‘ello to yeh too.” He reached for her but she swatted him away quickly.

“Don’t touch me… I’m going to stick a shank in your stomach just as soon as Tom finds me one.” Jaime turned to the younger Sykes for support. He just shrugged.

“Tha’s a good idea,” Oliver nodded. “Go get Jaime a shank; I’ve gotta talk to her alone anyway.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Sure,” Tom shrugged once more and entered the venue. He’d given up trying to understand his brother.

Now alone, Jaime continued her tirade. “You’ve been gone FOR HOURS! You missed soundcheck, nearly missed your fucking set. You better get your ass in there or—“

“Jus’ let me talk to yeh for a minute…”

“No fucking way. You knew how much this means to me! I’ve only been talking about it every minute of the day since like March. I’m not sure how you missed the fucking memo.”

“I know but—“

“There are no buts on this occasion.”

“Wha’ ef I said ‘But I brought flowers’?” He pulled his hand from behind his back to reveal a collection of yellow and orange flowers.

Jaime was silent for an instant, staring at him incredulously. Then she took a slow breath and in a cool angry tone she said “You brought flowers because you’re late… Smooth.”

“No, no… I were late ‘cause I brought flowers,” he corrected.

“Oh right, grrrreat.” She rolled her eyes.

“No, come on, ‘ve a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I remembered wha’ today is.”

“You mean besides the day of one of the most important events I’ve ever been a part of?”

“Aye, besides tha.”

She sighed. “Okay, I’m humoring you. What’s today?”

“Today is exactly two years since we met.”

Jaime was positively speechless.

Oli continued speaking “Thought a nice present was in order for the occasion. Don’t get yeh nearly enough presents.” Jaime opened her mouth to speak but found nothing would sound right. Instead she reached out and took the flowers from him. “D’yeh like ‘em?” He asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Yeh know how many flower shops are open this late on the weekend?”

“How many?”

“Like none.” He still had a pleasant demeanor about him, not even fazed by Jaime’s previous anger. “I rang about twenty places.”

“And that’s where you’ve been all evening?

“Aye.”

“And the reason no one was worried but me is because they knew.”

“Told every’un it were important and that I’d not mess up yer night.”

“If you don’t get on stage like now you might mess it up anyway,” she said sternly but was fighting off a smile.

“Yeh aren’t too mad, are yeh?”

“Ask me in an hour.” She bit her lip to avoid giving herself away. “Now, go. Please.”

“Kiss me for good luck?”

“Oh, I guess so.” She meant to only casually peck his lips but before she realized it, he had caught her face in between his palms. He pulled her mouth up to his and pressed his lips firmly against hers in a rather fervent and eager way. Half in protest and half in passion, Jaime bit his bottom lip. This only encouraged him and he kissed her more deeply, giving her a familiar head rush. Though she had been experiencing moments like this almost non-stop since October, since the last of their uncertainties had faded, they never got old. He never failed to send waves of chaotic energy across every inch of her. When he finally pulled away, he was grinning and she was shaking her head. “You would do that…”

He laughed and kissed her once more; this time it was the light kiss she’d originally intended. “I love you, Jai.”

And without a moment of hesitation, she responded “I love you too, you douchebag.”