I Can Still Be Your Superman

“Morgan, are you okay?” Uncle John asked me as we cleaned up. We just finished writing for today and I was exhausted.

“Yeah, just tired. Why?” I asked as I tried to figure out the order of the sheet music in my hand.

“You’ve been quiet for the past few days. You’ve barely said a word to Nick since I locked you two in here.”

I paused briefly. He was right, but didn’t want him to know that. I shrugged, “I guess I’ve been uninspired lately.” Lie. I have stakes of paper under my bed to prove otherwise. Ever since Nick walked into my life again the only thing I’ve been is inspired.

Uncle John studied me a moment before he finished up what he was doing. I tried to block him out and continue what I was doing. But I could barely concentrate; all I could think of was what Nick said to me. What we said to each other. Was I really that transparent to him? Did I still seem half alive? Those few weeks right after tour, I was a mess. I barely left my room. But I played it off like nothing was wrong. Time progressed and when I realized he wasn’t coming for me, I tried to move on with my life. I thought I was getting better.

Maybe I was. Maybe I was getting better before he appeared in the chair next to me at the Grammy's. I just didn’t understand why he had this much control over me. He’s only Nick, he’s only one person. Maybe one person is enough to change everything.

“Ready to go?” Uncle John asked, breaking me out of my head.

I looked down at the unorganized stack of papers in front of me. Sighing, I nodded and stood up, knowing I wasn’t going to be productive anymore.

We drove through the streets of LA quietly, both in our own little words. We were a few blocks away from our house when Uncle John spoke. “Morgan?”

I tore my gaze away from the window, “Yeah?”

He took a deep breath, “Nick and I were talking and, hear me out, we thought it would be a good idea if we add your vocals –”

“No,” I said cutting him off. There was no way I was going on that album anywhere vocally.

“Hear me out,” Uncle John pleaded. “Your voice harmonizes so well with his and it would add some depth to the music.”

“No way, you know how I feel about my singing Uncle John. I’m not going to do it, no matter how well we harmonize.”

“Morgan,” He sighed again as he pulled into our driveway. “Nick was showing me some of the songs he’s already written and most of them are duets. Just please, think about it.”

I rolled my eyes, “Of course they are.” I mumbled. “Fine, I’ll think it over. But that doesn’t mean yes.”

A smile lit up his face. “Of course. Thank you Morgan.” He said, kissing my cheek lightly before bouncing out of the car. You could’ve sworn that I said yes, he was so excited.

I followed him out of the car and up the front steps to the front door. Uncle John was holding a package, staring at it curiously.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s for you.” He said, handing it to me.

He handed me the small rectangular box. It was wrapped in wrapping paper with an envelope taped to the top, ‘Morgan’ scribbled on its front. My eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “I didn’t order anything.” I said even though that was obvious, mailed packages aren’t delivered with no mailing address and in blue wrapping paper.

Again, Uncle John shrugged. “Don’t look at me.” He said as he opened the front door.

I walked inside, pulled off my shoes, and walked upstairs to my room; never taking my eyes off of the blue wrapped box.

I placed it on my bed and stared at it for a few minutes. What could it be? Who was it from? “Only one way to find out,” I said to myself and pulled the envelope off the top. I opened it and pulled out a birthday card. Confused I opened it up without bothering to read the writing on the front.

Morgan –
I’m sorry for missing your birthday. I never wanted to.
-Nick

I dropped the card on my bed it shock. Nick? What was going on?

I grabbed the package off my bed and ripped off the paper, revealing a black box with the words ‘iPhone 4’ printed on the side. “He bought me a phone.” I said to myself in shock.

I darted out of my room, the box still in my hand. I jumped down the stairs two at a time and ran into the living room to find Uncle John. “Where are my car keys?” I asked frantically.

“They’re on the counter.” Uncle John responded, turning his attention away from the TV. “Where are you going?” He asked, yelling as I ran into the kitchen.

“I’ll be back later.” I told him as I ran past, ignoring his question and darted out the door.

I threw the box onto the passenger seat as I turned the key in the ignition. I pulled out of the driveway and drove the few blocks to the Jonas’ house. It only took a few minutes and without even thinking about what I was going to say, I parked the car in front of their house and walked up to their front door. I took a few deep breaths before I rang the bell.

Mrs. Jonas answered, “Oh hello Morgan.” She said, surprised. “What are you doing here at this time? It’s almost ten o’clock.”

I smiled nervously. “I know, I’m sorry about that. I was just wondering if I could talk to Nick really quick.”

She smiled brightly, “Of course. He’s in his room. Do you want me to get him?” She asked as she ushered me inside, closing the door behind me.

“Uh… is it okay if I go upstairs? He doesn’t know I was coming.”

“Sure. Take a left at the top of the stairs and it’s the second door on your left.” She told me.

“Thank you.” I said and walked up the stairs, trying not to run. I got to his room and knocked a few times.

“I said I’m fine Mom,” I heard his voice from behind the door.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open. “That’s good, but I’m not your mom.” I said.

His eyes widened in shock. “Morgan, what are you doing here?”

Before I could answer, a large golden retriever hurdled towards me from the opposite side of the room, almost knocking me over.

“Elvis!” Nick shouted, jumping out of his bed. “Get down.” He ordered, trying to pull the dog off me as it attacked my face with its tongue.

I laughed as I tried to push the very happy dog off me. Once Nick was able to pull him off me and I wiped the dog drool off my face was when I noticed. He was shirtless. My breath hitched in my throat as my eyes glazed over his body – his tense back muscles as he pulled Elvis back to his bed, his arm muscles, his V. It was perfect. It was better than I remembered. Was he always this built?

“Sorry about that. Elvis likes new people.” Nick said, turning towards me.

“That’s okay,” I pushed out, trying to collect myself.

Nick hurried to the door behind me and shut it. “What are you doing here?”

I tried to find my words. “I, uh…” I said, trying to remember. I felt the weight of the box in my hand and I lifted it up. “I wanted to know what this was doing on my front porch.”

“Oh,” Nick said and walked past me, taking his lounging position back on his bed. “It’s your birthday present.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out. But my birthday was months ago. You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“I wanted to. Plus, I told you I’d get you a new one when you destroyed your other phone. It’s just a few months late.” He replied shrugging.

“Well I don’t want it. So here,” I said, tossing it onto his bed. “Get your money back. Thanks for the thought.” I said, turning towards the door.

“I’m not taking it back.” He said, standing again. “It’s yours, now take it.” He pushed the box towards my chest.

“I don’t need it.” I retorted, pushing it towards his chest.

“Everyone needs a phone.”

“Not true, I’ve lasted this long without one.”

Nick growled, “Just take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Take it!” He barked, shoving the phone at me one more time and dropping his hands.

Slightly taken aback by his tone, I took a deep breath. “I’m not going to use it, so I don’t want you to waste your money.”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “You don’t get it Morgan. I want you to have it. I want to be able to talk to you outside of the studio and I know everyone from tour misses talking to you too.”

I looked down at my feet, flipping the box in my hand. Maybe it was time for me to inch out of my shell. But not like before, never again like before. “Fine, I’ll keep it.” I said, bringing my gaze up to his. “Thank you.”

A smile, one of his rare smiles that lit every corner of his face, spread across his face. “No problem. When I bought it, I didn’t know it would be this difficult for you to take it.” He said, laughing.

I couldn’t help but crack a smile. “I don’t usually take gifts easily.”

“I’ll make sure to remember that.”

As soon as those words left his mouth, the air around us shifted. I couldn’t breathe or push away the overwhelming presence of Nick’s half naked body. Awkwardly I said, “Um… I guess I should go.” I turned towards the door. “Thanks again for the phone.”

“Wait,” Nick said, grabbing my wrist.

I flinched.

“Did John tell you what my idea was a-about the CD I mean?” He stuttered nervously.

I gulped as I tried to gingerly twist out of his grip with no luck. “Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“I think you should do it. And not just because I think it will help make the record amazing.”

“Then why?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to figure out what to say. Then, his phone rang. Sighing, he looked at his phone that was on his bedside table and then quickly brought his attention to me. “It’s Samantha.”

A lump grew in my throat, “Then you should probably answer it.” I pushed out despite the other words that were floating around my head that I really wanted to say.

His gaze stayed on me for a few more seconds. “I guess you’re right.” He said, letting go of my wrist. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I nodded, unable to speak, and quickly slid out of the room before I said or did something that I would regret.