Baby I've Got My Eye On You
Thirty
It had been four days since I had heard from Brian and the sheer thought of him was sending me into madness. Why hadn’t he come round? Why hadn’t he called? And most importantly…why was he ignoring me? From dating a rock star, I was well aware that Brian had to be flexible. That meant that when he was in the studio, at practice or an interview or whatever, then it’d be likely I wouldn’t be able to see him for days at a time. This was all fine when I knew that we were fine, when flirtatious little texts would flutter in and out of my inbox and brief 30 second phone calls between breaks were a regularity. But I had no idea what Beth running out on Zack had done to Brian’s impression of me and every voice in my head seemed to whisper insecure tones of abandonment. Life without Brian was boring if not unnerving.
The first day I thought little about it, gathering that he was busy cheering Zack up…I wasn’t selfish enough to think that Brian was mine alone. I spent the day with Dad at the beach, getting to know Maggie a little better. This was time well spent, I thought: I learned she worked as a chef in a new upmarket restaurant in town, which suited my distaste for my Dad’s cooking just fine. She had one daughter of her own called Meagan, who was already married at twenty-six with a four year old little boy and another one on the way. She had moved to Scotland with her husband five years ago and she had come over for a weeks visit before she was too far along in her pregnancy to fly. Maggie’s enthusiasm in telling me this revealed a suggestion that she didn’t see much of her or her grandchildren very often; her and Dad were - not to sound too patronising - perfectly matched in their loneliness.
The second day was a little more worrying. I woke up late to find a note in the kitchen from Dad, apologetic in tone, saying that he and Maggie had left to say goodbye to “Meagan, William and little Toby” before they flew home. I rang Brian, getting through to his machine on both occasions. I left a message saying I missed him and to call me when he was free…but six hours passed until it was eight o’clock and Brian hadn’t called. My texts received no reply. Part of me decided that there should be a good enough reason for this…but I was still unsure.
The third day was agony. I was desperate to know what was wrong but he just wouldn’t answer me! And as much as I was dying to hear anything from Syn, I was also worried about Zacky. From being with Brian, I had gotten close with all of the guys and I didn’t want any of them to hate me for what my idiot sister had done. I didn’t want Zacky to be completely heartbroken by someone I could never admit to truly hating, even if my life depended on it. Yes, Beth was a complete and total bitch and I would probably never fully forgive her, but we’d been through everything together and she was my sister. In my desperation to know what was going on, I rang Johnny.
“Hey Johnny, how’s things?” I asked, not wanting to sound too self obsessed the minute he picked up the phone. I was met by a heavy sigh.
“Hi Rosie” he said, “I’m not so bad”
“Ummmm”
“Yes.” he said cutting me off before I had a chance to ask him anything, “Syn’s right here”
“Oh…can I talk to him?”
“Sure - uh…actually he’s kind of busy”
Yeah, busy avoiding me.
“Okay” I think I whispered it…Brian always had time to talk to me. Countless times I’d spent in stitches because I’d called when he was breathless at the gym or attempting to speak with a mouth-full of sandwich. And he’d never let me call back when he wasn’t busy.
I hung up before saying goodbye, because I knew Johnny knew I was already upset. And at that very second I hated Brian.
I never thought the one person who made me feel so good could make me feel so…useless. What was I supposed to do now? Was this him dumping me? Just completely cutting me off without even a word? My life was completely absorbed in just…Synysterness. It was the saddest thing ever. When I wasn’t with Brian, I was thinking about being with Brian. And he was everywhere! When I turned on the T.V, the radio, the computer. When I walked down the street to be met by none other than Sevenfold hoodies and Syn Gates t-shirts. I found my self reminded of him by the most random of things, like the lamp on my bed-side table that he’d normally sit his hat on after coming in, or the smell of the air freshener I’d spray so my dad wouldn’t know we’d been smoking in the house. He was the air I fucking breathed…and if he didn’t want me anymore then I was more or less dead. Hell, it had been three days and I was acting like Brian was dead. That’s when I decided that I couldn’t take another day repeating all the questions in my head.
I got up on the fourth day adamant that I would be ignored no longer.
Firstly, I decided to try call him one last time, but surprise surprise, had no luck.
“Sup, you’ve reached Syn. I’m too drunk to come to come to the phone right now, leave a beep after the message”
I was sick of hearing that ridiculous answer tone.
It was exactly thirteen minutes past ten on a Sunday and if I knew Syn, I was absolutely positive that he would be just getting up. He’d get up relatively early even hungover. It was a dark day and all the fallen leaves were soaring and circling sharply in the coldest wind I have ever felt. It was Baltic outside, cold even for winter and naturally, I had left without a coat. I wasn’t even going to waste time going back inside to get a warmer change of clothes. I needed to get to Brian’s house and demand that he talked to me before I changed my mind. My inner chicken was a very persuasive bird.
His car was in the drive way, which of course really meant nothing as he could just have easily gone out on his bike. But I went right up to the door anyway and banged as hard as I could. I would wait all day if I had to. He would have to answer me eventually.
“Brian! I know you’re in there! Open the door and talk to me for gods sake!” I yelled, kicking the door in rage. I surprisingly found that it wasn’t even locked. And that Brian was infact on his way to the door and looking like complete death. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for days and he showed signs of consecutive late nights under his eyes.
“Why are you avoiding me!” I screamed, trying to sound strong but betraying myself with the emergence of tears in the corners of me eyes. “Is it because of Beth!? Because it’s not like I knew and I’m as mad as you are! If…if it’s because I’m her sister and you hate me too then I understand but just don’t keep me guessing!”
“Roz, I don’t hate you baby. I don’t hate you at all” he said, not really sounding much better than my own sobbing state.
“Then why aren’t you talking to me!?”
“I…I’ve been trying to find a way of telling you…but I don’t know what to do…” he swept his hands over his face as he craned his neck back in frustration.
You’re breaking up with me.
“Just say it Brian” I held my breath.
“I slept with someone else.”
The first day I thought little about it, gathering that he was busy cheering Zack up…I wasn’t selfish enough to think that Brian was mine alone. I spent the day with Dad at the beach, getting to know Maggie a little better. This was time well spent, I thought: I learned she worked as a chef in a new upmarket restaurant in town, which suited my distaste for my Dad’s cooking just fine. She had one daughter of her own called Meagan, who was already married at twenty-six with a four year old little boy and another one on the way. She had moved to Scotland with her husband five years ago and she had come over for a weeks visit before she was too far along in her pregnancy to fly. Maggie’s enthusiasm in telling me this revealed a suggestion that she didn’t see much of her or her grandchildren very often; her and Dad were - not to sound too patronising - perfectly matched in their loneliness.
The second day was a little more worrying. I woke up late to find a note in the kitchen from Dad, apologetic in tone, saying that he and Maggie had left to say goodbye to “Meagan, William and little Toby” before they flew home. I rang Brian, getting through to his machine on both occasions. I left a message saying I missed him and to call me when he was free…but six hours passed until it was eight o’clock and Brian hadn’t called. My texts received no reply. Part of me decided that there should be a good enough reason for this…but I was still unsure.
The third day was agony. I was desperate to know what was wrong but he just wouldn’t answer me! And as much as I was dying to hear anything from Syn, I was also worried about Zacky. From being with Brian, I had gotten close with all of the guys and I didn’t want any of them to hate me for what my idiot sister had done. I didn’t want Zacky to be completely heartbroken by someone I could never admit to truly hating, even if my life depended on it. Yes, Beth was a complete and total bitch and I would probably never fully forgive her, but we’d been through everything together and she was my sister. In my desperation to know what was going on, I rang Johnny.
“Hey Johnny, how’s things?” I asked, not wanting to sound too self obsessed the minute he picked up the phone. I was met by a heavy sigh.
“Hi Rosie” he said, “I’m not so bad”
“Ummmm”
“Yes.” he said cutting me off before I had a chance to ask him anything, “Syn’s right here”
“Oh…can I talk to him?”
“Sure - uh…actually he’s kind of busy”
Yeah, busy avoiding me.
“Okay” I think I whispered it…Brian always had time to talk to me. Countless times I’d spent in stitches because I’d called when he was breathless at the gym or attempting to speak with a mouth-full of sandwich. And he’d never let me call back when he wasn’t busy.
I hung up before saying goodbye, because I knew Johnny knew I was already upset. And at that very second I hated Brian.
I never thought the one person who made me feel so good could make me feel so…useless. What was I supposed to do now? Was this him dumping me? Just completely cutting me off without even a word? My life was completely absorbed in just…Synysterness. It was the saddest thing ever. When I wasn’t with Brian, I was thinking about being with Brian. And he was everywhere! When I turned on the T.V, the radio, the computer. When I walked down the street to be met by none other than Sevenfold hoodies and Syn Gates t-shirts. I found my self reminded of him by the most random of things, like the lamp on my bed-side table that he’d normally sit his hat on after coming in, or the smell of the air freshener I’d spray so my dad wouldn’t know we’d been smoking in the house. He was the air I fucking breathed…and if he didn’t want me anymore then I was more or less dead. Hell, it had been three days and I was acting like Brian was dead. That’s when I decided that I couldn’t take another day repeating all the questions in my head.
I got up on the fourth day adamant that I would be ignored no longer.
Firstly, I decided to try call him one last time, but surprise surprise, had no luck.
“Sup, you’ve reached Syn. I’m too drunk to come to come to the phone right now, leave a beep after the message”
I was sick of hearing that ridiculous answer tone.
It was exactly thirteen minutes past ten on a Sunday and if I knew Syn, I was absolutely positive that he would be just getting up. He’d get up relatively early even hungover. It was a dark day and all the fallen leaves were soaring and circling sharply in the coldest wind I have ever felt. It was Baltic outside, cold even for winter and naturally, I had left without a coat. I wasn’t even going to waste time going back inside to get a warmer change of clothes. I needed to get to Brian’s house and demand that he talked to me before I changed my mind. My inner chicken was a very persuasive bird.
His car was in the drive way, which of course really meant nothing as he could just have easily gone out on his bike. But I went right up to the door anyway and banged as hard as I could. I would wait all day if I had to. He would have to answer me eventually.
“Brian! I know you’re in there! Open the door and talk to me for gods sake!” I yelled, kicking the door in rage. I surprisingly found that it wasn’t even locked. And that Brian was infact on his way to the door and looking like complete death. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for days and he showed signs of consecutive late nights under his eyes.
“Why are you avoiding me!” I screamed, trying to sound strong but betraying myself with the emergence of tears in the corners of me eyes. “Is it because of Beth!? Because it’s not like I knew and I’m as mad as you are! If…if it’s because I’m her sister and you hate me too then I understand but just don’t keep me guessing!”
“Roz, I don’t hate you baby. I don’t hate you at all” he said, not really sounding much better than my own sobbing state.
“Then why aren’t you talking to me!?”
“I…I’ve been trying to find a way of telling you…but I don’t know what to do…” he swept his hands over his face as he craned his neck back in frustration.
You’re breaking up with me.
“Just say it Brian” I held my breath.
“I slept with someone else.”