Confusion Girl

The queue in the pharmacist was dauntingly long, brimming with coughing, germ-infested people desperate for their drugs. I lingered unsurely in the doorway – ready to just give up and return home empty handed - before something in the window caught my eye. I retreated over to get a better look while still keeping a cautious eye on the woman examining the laxatives, determined to get in the line before her.

It was a job vacancy. A job vacancy in a big publishing company. The very same big publishing company which printed some of my favorite books of all time. I cocked my head at the black and white printout. Maybe if I blinked hard enough the world would realign itself correctly and realize that offering me good luck completely went against its principles.

Editor. I could be an editor; I had all of the required credentials. And, just like that, I was convinced that I would get this job and start proving to myself that I was worth something. That I could do something other than pine away after somebody untouchable. I missed not waking up in the morning for a purpose, I craved a timetable to dictate my life.

And then my eyes descended from the title and took in exactly where the job was. Then when exactly the interview was. I groaned miserably. There, the world had corrected itself again. This wasn’t an offered opportunity but a beacon of just something else I would never have.

I had exactly 2 days to make it to Maryland which was over 14 hours 11 minutes away at best. Without a car or money I was pretty much screwed. Who had I been kidding? I probably wouldn’t have gotten the job anyway even if I did have a rocket boost.

But there was a small glimmer of hope stuck inside which had me asking for the print out when I was purchasing the Advil (just in front of laxative woman). It turned out the job, though, came with more than just the one A4 advertisement.



I struggled through the front door, the Advil wedged between my elbow crevice and sheets of paper filling my arms. “Guys!” There was no reply but then, considering the boys’ current states, it wasn’t much of a surprise. World War III could have started in the driveway and they would just pull the pillow further over their heads to smother any sound.

I sighed, rolling my eyes, and set to work being a Mom. Each boy scattered in various darkened places around the house soon had a glass full of water and an Advil or two each. I had experience with this. 2 years ago they had been the worst party animals and ‘a night spent indoors was a night wasted.’

I had just keeled over onto the lounge’s sofa, rifling through the job application and scrutinizing exactly what an editor actually did when a sudden blaring of music made me yelp in shock. The yelp disintegrated into a moan when I saw Alec’s mobile buzzing and playing the ringtone which was oh so familiar. So familiar in fact that it was our song, the one Alec had sung the other night and the one which pretty much symbolised out relationship. I narrowed my eyes at his latest gadget. I may as well have been looking at a screensaver of us together for all the symbolism it held.

And I reached over and grabbed the mobile. Half in spite and half out of pure curiosity, I answered and pressed the cold metal against my ear. “Hello?”

“Hello Alec? Is this Alec? Don’t tell me you have one of your groupies answering the phone again.”

I snorted in disgust “this is Jo’s cousin, who wants to know?” I was aware this was not how nice, normal people talked to strangers but his previous comment had made me snappy. The thought of a groupie being anywhere close enough to Alec to answer his phone made me shudder.

“This is the boys’ manager. Look, you’re obviously close to the boys and I really don’t have much time so can you relay a simple message to them for me?”

“Okay…” I was unsure of what this particular commitment would entail. Knowing Hollywood manager types I’d be roped into something unpleasant.

“I’ve booked them a huge stadium for Tuesday down in New York, Madison Square, they have to be there. It doesn’t matter what time as long as it’s before 5. Thanks.”

I pulled the phone away slowly, not even caring that he’d hung up without a goodbye. Tuesday. That was in 2 days, same as the interview. And New York was on the way to Maryland. I contained my sheer excitement for all of 5 seconds before I was squealing like a little girl and jumping on the couch.

“What’s all this excitement about?” A somewhat groggy Alec leant against the doorframe, surveying me calmly. “I mean, obviously you’re excited to me, but we’ve known each other for years. I’m still the same old Alec Bradshaw deep down.” I stopped bouncing to just lie down and stare at ceiling. I was losing my head – the job wasn’t even mine yet.

“You’ve got a gig in New York, Madison Square on Tuesday,” my tone was bland, masking the excitement which he knew was there.

“Uhh…” he stammered as the grin sprang to his face “how do you know this?”

“Your manager called.”

“On my phone?” he raised an eyebrow at the guilty device still lingering in my hand.

“Maybe…” I smirked.

“Oh my fucking God!” Jo, who had obviously overhead, ran into the room like a wild thing, circling around the couch before running back upstairs. We laughed at him but both felt what he felt – the unbelievable lift of anticipation.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Tom called down the stairs to us after loud scuffling betrayed Jo’s rousing of the other boys. “Go pack your shit. Quick. We only have…” there was a pause as Tom obviously tried to count down the hours.

“52 hours,” I had it on the verge of my tongue and couldn’t help but shout it out.

“Yeah, that. Hurry!”

I passed a still laughing Alec to make my way upstairs at a pace which was much too slow for Tom. “Come on come on.” I inwardly wondered how, at the slightest bit of good news, hangovers were forgotten. But I supposed Madison Square was a big deal to musicians, as was a job vacancy to an unemployed graduate.

I shoved items into my bag without much thought, only really making sure to pack my smart blouse and shiny black heels. “Oh by the way guys,” I shouted to the boys as I fought with my suitcase to make it shut. “I’m going to a job interview in Maryland on the Tuesday; do you think you could make a detour there?”

“Yeah whatever,” a passing Jo replied, his voice and figure just a blur which sped past my door. I smiled although nobody could see me. This was the best thing to do – to mend. We all needed to escape again even if this had been our hiding place. Alec Bradshaw could be my friend, I could have a job, and I could be perfect again. His kind of perfect and my own. The suitcase flew open and spat out some underwear but it didn’t faze me. This was just another bump in the road. Just another pair of polka-dot panties strewn on my carpet.