Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard

Charlotte sat at her desk, tapping a pencil against the edge. The longer she watched Wyatt being directed around in the other room, the more uneasy she felt about everything that had happened lately. She knew now that she had definitely messed up everything she had waited and worked hard for. She waited patiently for the time to pass by, knowing her day would come to an end before Wyatt’s would and she would be able to begin the avoiding processes. Jared and Pat had been text messaging her all day to keep her informed on their first day in the studio; hearing all about their progress so far into the day made her excited to have dinner with them later so she would be able to actually hear more details.

She was hesitant about the dinner, though. Garrett would be there and hopefully he’d have something to say to her. And she would apologize, of course, most likely multiple times until he told her to stop. Maybe he’d even talk to her, perhaps forgive her for being so foolish. She knew the forgiveness part was a bit reaching, but she hoped and prayed it would happen soon.

She sighed heavily, clutching files and paperwork to her chest as she floated mindlessly through the office, sending mail on its way and retrieving notices for Leslie. She only made sounds when she was spoken to, her thoughts too tangled to form any sort of verbal response, and her co-workers caught on to her mood rather quickly.

“Charlotte, this was left for you,” the receptionist said as Charlotte shuffled by. She stopped to pick up the package, then continued to her desk outside of Leslie’s office.

Sinking into her chair, she adjusted her glasses and read the label. It had obviously been dropped off by the person who wrapped it up because there were no mailing addresses written on it, just ‘Charlotte’ written in neat print. She tore it open and a wallet fell into her lap. A piece of paper floated out seconds later.

A little something I’ve been working on. I look forward to your feedback.
-A.E.

Charlotte felt her heart tighten. A.E. couldn’t be Alber Elbaz. There was no way he had taken the time to find her. She read the note several more times, the shock still as settled as the first time. She shook her head as she transferred items from her old wallet into the new one, shoving the old into the back of her desk drawer. She folded the note neatly and tucked it inside the wallet, as a reminder that this lifestyle was definitely possible.

“Char, can you drop this off on the 12th floor for me?” Leslie asked, dropping a heavy envelope onto Charlotte’s desk as she walked into her own office. “Then you can go home for the day.”

Charlotte nodded. “Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She gathered her things, picked up the envelope and headed for the elevator. She dropped the envelope off at the front desk of the 12th floor then headed to her car. She called Jared to get directions to the studio and was on her way into the heart of the city. A mere 20 minutes later, she was pulling into a small parking lot. She saw the van, taking the open spot next to it, and walked past Garrett’s yellow car on her way inside.

“Charlotte!” John called excitedly when she came into view.

She looked around. The boys were scattered all over the place. John sat in a rolling chair in front of a computer screen; he pushed himself away and rolled over to Charlotte. Jared and Kennedy were sitting in a corner, strumming on their guitars. Pat was in another room working on some drum sounds. And Garrett. He sat cross-legged on some equipment hidden in the back, his arms rested in his lap. He refused to look in her direction.

John grabbed her, tugging her down onto his knee. She laughed as he pushed off, wheeling back to the computer. He played some rough clips of their “jams” from earlier in the day. He was about to play her a full demo when Garrett grabbed his bag, causing some things to fall over with a loud crash in the process, and left abruptly.

“Did I-”

“He’s been in a mood all day,” John cut her off. “It wasn’t you.”

Jared cleared his throat slightly. “Well, I say we call pre-pro a day, then.”

“I’m starved,” Pat said as he appeared in the main room.

Charlotte stood from John’s lap and gnawed on her lip. She knew things wouldn’t be easy with Garrett but she didn’t expect him to be so testy. “Right,” she mumbled slightly. “Dinner is my treat.”

They went to dinner and talked about all of their plans for the next month or two. The boys all talked excitedly about the vision they had for not only the music itself but also for how to package it; they were already planning and designing the concept art and were thinking of a package deal – something to do with journals and photographs from their time in LA. Charlotte loved all of their thoughts and ideas. They had fallen so in love with their new direction and they had so much passion for what they were cooking up that it all seemed to flow perfectly, no hitches in sight.

They spent a couple of hours at the restaurant, then decided that they should go out to celebrate the beginning of something special. So Charlotte followed them back to their apartment and sat on the couch to wait for them to change into their “fancy clothes,” as they had so playfully put it. She was checking her phone, barely reading over a text from Wyatt, when she heard a door open slowly and careful footsteps coming from the hallway behind her.

“How’s your boyfriend?” His tone was hard and cold, almost a sneer.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Charlotte said softly, her eyes focused on the wallet in her lap. She could practically feel his eye-roll as he left the room, heading for the kitchen.

“So you just fuck random guys now?” he shot from the kitchen.

She felt the heat rising up her neck. She didn’t want to react, knowing that would only feed into his childish ways, but when he reappeared in the living room with a sarcastic, hurtful smirk on his face she knew she had to say something.

“Sure, that’s exactly what I’m doing,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Ah, so that’s what it is,” he said with an understanding nod. “You’d rather be a whore.”

The heat had reached her cheeks by now. “Did you even read the journal?” she demanded.

“No, I don’t like fiction,” he said with a shrug, then took a bite of the sandwich he had made.

“You are such a prick,” she grumbled. “I’m so glad I’m seeing this side of you now, when we’re broken up.”

“You think this has always been lying dormant inside of me?” he challenged. “You’re the one who did this to me, Charlotte. You’re the cause of these bitter, ugly remarks and feelings.”

Garrett walked down the hallway, back to his room. Charlotte pushed herself up from the couch and following him. She slammed his bedroom door open, staring him intently in the eye. He looked shocked; he definitely never expected her to follow him.

“You think you’re so fucking clever, Garrett,” she seethed. “You think you’re such a little angel, having never done anything wrong in your life. Well guess what? You broke my heart first. You crawled right back to your ex girlfriend, knowing I was most skeptical of her motives, completely insecure of all your history together. You were never over her, were you?”

“She was my first everything, Charlotte,” Garrett said lowly.

“And you were mine!” Her voice rose to a level she had never wanted it to reach. It was then, with the emotional tension at an all-time high and the look on Garrett’s face, that her eyes began to sting with the threat of tears.

Garrett opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out, and he made a step forward but he wasn’t sure why. Charlotte just shook her head to herself as she turned and left the room. Garrett listened as she called out to the others and when he heard the front door open he scrambled to catch up to her. He leaned against the railing, waiting for her to come into view.

“Where are you going?” he questioned, his voice cracking. “Char!”

“Home,” she answered shortly. She fumbled with her keys, unable to get her door unlocked. She heard Garrett’s thumping footsteps louder and louder as the echoes grew shorter, a sign that he was getting closer. She shoved her key into the door, twisted it and fell into the seat. She had the door shut, locked, and the car turned on by the time he came into view. She reversed out of the spot, leaving him standing in her headlights. As she put her car into drive, she noticed everyone else in the apartment was standing in the doorway, most likely wondering where she was going in such a rush.

Charlotte drove. She missed her street, and the following streets that would take her home. She saw Wyatt jogging along on the sidewalk and thought about looping around to melt into his comforts. When she drove through a stop sign, she decided to keep going. She didn’t know how long she would be driving, or where she was going in the meantime, and she exhaled deeply as her phone rang and rang and rang.

She found herself in a slightly unfamiliar neighborhood. The trees were similar, some house colors rang a bell, and some silly lawn gnomes caused her to giggle a familiar giggle. Her hands and feet were driving, not her mind, and she pulled into a driveway at the end of the street. It was completely dark outside, making it hard to tell just how long she had been driving, but this house was lit up inside. As she turned her car lights off, the front door opened and the lights flooded onto the lawn.

Charlotte stepped out of her car hesitantly, her phone buzzing in her pocket as she received yet another incoming call. She made her way up the sidewalk and onto the creaky front porch. The silhouette opened the screen door and stepped outside with her.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

The tears spilled over Charlotte’s eyelashes and down her cheeks at the sound of her voice. Her knees trembled and her body shook as she stepped closer to the woman and wrapped her arms around her. The woman cautiously ran a hand through her hair and down her back, rubbing her shoulder as she pulled her closer into the hug.

“I need my mom,” Charlotte whimpered.