I Can Still Be Your Superman

“Are you okay Morgan?” Uncle John asked suddenly, walking into the living room from the kitchen.

I picked my head up to look at him, placing the book I was reading on my stomach. “Yeah, why?”

He sat on the chair across from me, sighing deeply. “You’ve just been really quiet lately.”

I shrugged. “I’m just relaxing. I hear this is the last time I’ll be able to before we start tour rehearsals tomorrow.”

“Rehearsals aren’t bad, it’s the tour itself that is exhausting, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You haven’t gone out of the house in more than two weeks, you haven’t talked about Cameron like you used to, and Nick told me he’s called you several times and you’ve never answered. Is everything okay? Anything you want to talk about?”

I pulled my feet off the couch and sat up. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“I’m sure, but if you need anything, I’m here. I may not be Julia or Eileen, but I can five some pretty good advice too.”

I smiled weakly at him and rose. “I bet you can Uncle John. But I’ve got this.”

“At least call Nick; he’s really worried about you.”

I nodded half-heartedly and walked upstairs to my room. Placing my book on my bedside table, I collapsed onto my bed, face first.

I knew Uncle John was coming from a good place and all he wants to do is help, but he can’t, I thought to myself; sighing into my blanket. I couldn’t tell him what happened two weeks ago. I couldn’t tell him that Cameron refuses to talk about what happened, or to me, at all for more than five minutes at a time. I couldn’t tell him that even though Nick stopped me that once, it’s happened again. I’ve tried telling people what I think, how I feel and it backfires nine times out of ten. From then on, I’m looked at with pity and worry, every move I make becomes carefully scrutinized to see if I’ll break again. I can’t live like that again.

I rolled onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling. No matter how much I try and change, my past always creeps back to find me.

I grabbed my phone off my nightstand, checking my voicemail for the first time in two weeks.
10 New Messages

The screen read, every single one from Nick. I put the speaker next to me ear and listened.

Hey Morgan, it’s me. I just wanted to see if you were okay after what happened yesterday. Call me back when you can.

Hey Morgan, me again. Listen, I don’t know if I did anything wrong, but please talk to me. Call me back.

Morgan, come on. I’m getting worried. Are you all right? Call me back, please.

Morgan, don’t shut me out like this again. I can help you; you just have to let me. Please.

Morgan, seriously, answer the phone. I need to know if you’re all right.

Morgan, I just talked to Jenn. She said you haven’t called her in weeks. Answer your phone.

Please Morgan. I’m begging you, let me help. Of if you don’t want it - let me know. Just, please, call me.

Morgan, it’s been a week and a half, you can’t shut me out like this.

Morgan, John just called me - he said you haven’t left the house in two weeks. He’s worried. I’m worried. Please call me back so we can talk about this.

Alright, I get it, you don’t want to talk to me. Fine, I understand. But please, don’t shut everyone else out. We can help you. Call me if you need me.

Each message was more desperate, worried, brokenhearted than the one before it. Why do I keep doing this to him? Why do I continually make promises to him that I never end up keeping? Ones I know I’m not going to keep. Not now. It didn’t make any sense. Do I want to hurt him or do I want to keep those promises? Do I keep making them, do I think I’ll stick to them for a reason - for him? Do I need him more than I think I do?

I rolled off my bed, grabbed my bag, and ran out the front door before I thought any more about what I was going to do.

Forty minutes later, I arrived to where my feet too me, a woman with a bright smile greeting me. “Good afternoon miss, how can I help you?”

I didn’t hesitate. “I would like one ticket, please, to New Jersey.”

***

Nick’s POV

I took a deep breath before walking into the rehearsal space I booked for the next two weeks. This was going to be the first time in two weeks that I’ve spoken to Morgan, let alone see, since her breakdown. I didn’t have any idea what she was going to do - what I should do. Should I talk to her about it? Ignore it completely? Let her come to me about it? The last option I knew was improbable, I’ve given her two weeks to come to me. It was time for me to go to her.

I walked farther into the space and sat my satchel down on one of the empty chairs next to a mock soundboard that is used at venues.

“Morning Nick! How are you?” Victor, the stage manager, asked once he noticed I arrived. “First one, as usual.”

“I’m good Victor, you?”

“I’m brilliant. Stage is all done, how’d you like it?”

Smiling, I hopped onto the two foot “stage”, my eyes scanning the layout. “It’s great Victor. You did amazing work, as always.”

“Only because you give me such precise directions, even more so this time around.”

I laughed lightly and shook my head. “Yeah, I know. It’s just that this is Morgan’s first tour and I want everything to be...”

“Perfect.” Victor said for me, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

I nodded and turned towards the rest of the stage again. It was a basic layout really, much like the Who I Am tour. There were two platforms near the back of the stage, one on the left and one on the right, where the drums and keyboards were set up for Michael and Tommy. Behind them were three LCD panels for images and video. In the front of the platforms, where me, Morgan, John and Sonny shared, were racks for our guitars and basses tuned properly for song shifts. It was all very basic, to give it a more intimate feel. It was exactly how I wanted it.

The doors opened and John ran in frantically with Sonny, Tommy, and Michael close behind. “Nick, is Morgan here?” John asked crazed, running towards me.

“No, why would she be?” I asked, jumping off the ‘stage’.

“She went out yesterday afternoon and she never came home. I called her cell about three hundred times and she never answered. I assumed that she went to your place to work out whatever has been going on between you two. So, I waited until morning to call her again. She still didn’t answer. So, I called you and you didn’t answer, so I rushed over here to see if she was here and she’s not.”

“Morgan’s missing?” I asked, my eyes growing wide, panic and worry began coursing through my veins.

John flinched at hearing the words. “Do you have any idea where she could be?”

I shook my head and sat on the floor of the ‘stage’. “Why would she do this? Why would she run away?” I asked, but deep down I knew the answer. I pushed her too far again, extremely too far this time.

John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll call Jenn, maybe she’ll know. Do you have Cameron’s number?” I shook my head ‘no’. “Well, find a way to get in touch with him, maybe he knows. Maybe he’s gotten in touch with her. Maybe...” He walked away, muttering as his fingers danced over the keys on his phone.

I got up and walked to my satchel to get my phone. I may not have Cameron’s number, but I do have his tour mate’s.

“Hey Nick, what’s up?” Selena asked cheerily.

“Is Cameron with you” I asked quickly, ignoring all pleasantries.

“Yeah, he’s about to go to soundcheck. Why?”

“I need to talk to him. Now.”

I didn’t get a response from Selena, but heard a few distant voices before Cameron’s voice rang clear through the phone. “Nick, what’s wrong? Is Morgan okay?” He asked, clearly worried. He knew I would never call him if Morgan was okay.

“She’s, she’s...” The words were stuck in my throat. They burned everything - my mouth, my throat, my heart - so much so that my eyes started to water. “She’s missing.”

“What!?”

“John thinks she ran away or something. Have you spoken to her today or yesterday at all?”

“She, she texted me this morning, but all it said was ‘we have to talk’. I told her I’d call her after soundcheck. OhmyGod, I can’t believe she’s missing.” Cameron sputtered, his voice and words broken.

“When you talk to her, try to get her to tell you where she is. Please.”

“Yeah, yeah. Nick, I gotta go, but let me know if you find her first.”

“Sure,” I replied and was answered by empty air; he hung up. Sighing violently, I looked down at my phone. Where the hell did she go?