Velvet Lungs

She didn’t expect to get this far. She fully expected a door slammed in her face, and yet, she got to the point where they had drinks. Her fingers itched from the tip. It wasn’t as if she stopped drinking again. As her roommate’s behavior eradicated, the more the urge to use pricked against her skin. Instead of calling up her dealer, she would just pound back a glass of wine and hope that she didn’t have the stupidity to gather something stronger. It grew easier each day that passed. Sofie wouldn’t get help, but that didn’t mean she had to rush to sink to her level. It was a work in progress. Jo was one of the few reasons she pushed so harshly against the cravings, even if it left her soaked against her sheets. 

Now, they were back at the program. Forgive. Apologize. Never forget. Her fingers curled over her wrist as she glanced up at her kindly. She didn’t pay attention to the bodyguard that huffed back in response. It was clear he didn’t want to leave Tasha alone. It was a sweet gesture. Her teeth enveloped over her bottom lip as he shut the door behind him. “He really hasn’t changed.” Kat said, an itch of a smile falling on her lips. 

At the mention of someplace else, she wondered if she’d rather keep their conversation private. If it was public, it could drag into a media blitz. She blinked at the idea, but didn’t discredit Tasha. She had blown up at her before in public, landing them a tasteless headline that staggered on biphobia. Now, well. The present was nice. “It’s fine if we’re here.” Kat said. “I started a new program. I know I’ve done this before with you, but I don’t know. I guess I want it to stick without being a raging fuckhead.” 

Okay, another pause. “I started a group for sex and love obsession. Originally, I think it was just for my ex, but now, I’m not sure. I guess…I am a little self destructive even concerning something casual. I know I wasn’t my best with you. It feels weird to keep the weight of it, but I don’t expect you to take it to heart in any way. I just wanted to apologize.”  

Being a celebrity meant that you were constantly meeting new people; from agents to fellow celebrities, fans to everyday people, the revolving door never ceased. A lesson that Tasha took away from it all was that first impression were sometimes wrong, and at other times they were horribly right. Kat and Tasha had started off on rocky footing that only dissolved over time; she could still recall the paparazzi swarming around their public fallout. As with every story some people came to her defense, others criticized her harshly. It was the natural order of things so instead of responding to every critic, Tasha stayed silent. She placed her undefined smile on her lips and dove back into her music.

Tasha only chuckled at Kat’s comment about Tony, finding it humorous and wholeheartedly true.

With two wine glasses now situated in front of her, Tasha went about selecting a wine, fingers thumbing over bottle after bottle until she made her choice. As Kat spoke she paused, ears perked up, longing for an explanation to her visit. She listened closely, her facial expression remaining neutral despite the overwhelming shock that was coursing through her veins. She was... apologizing? This was a side of Kat that Tasha had never seen; she seemed sincere, nervous, and frighteningly open. The words heavy with truth about her obsession, destruction, and the past; their burdens now spilled out into the air.

“I don’t expect you to take it to heart in any way. I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long pause that followed. The air was littered, buzzing like the static of a blank television station. Tasha’s hands were momentarily frozen, eyes in a similar state as they bore into Kat with confusion and a twisted form of relief. Eventually, she exhaled; hazel eyes shutting briefly before opening again with a softness that trickled down through her entire body. Fingers began to move again, snagging up the now filled wine glasses and holding one out to Kat in silent offer. “I’m sorry too.”

He was shocked that the girl seemed to recognize him. Alas, a lead singer always got the better attention from the crowd. He pressed his lips into a tight line, raising his brows well above his hairline. He felt like a damn cartoon character. “Tasha, right.” He held out a hand after a while, hoping that it didn’t come off as too rude for the lingering hand. “Yeah, shit. You would know Ryleigh. I think he has every inked babe in the city named.” He chuckled at his own joke. “Shit, thanks. It was ages ago.” 

From joking quietly in the isles to complete silence, Tasha was taken aback by the sudden change. Immediately she began to ponder over her choice of words, searching for the sentence that probably offended him. The smile almost completely slipped off of her face and her hand began to drop back to her side as the seconds ticket on. Though, when he spoke again, the ease of conversation returned and their hands connected briefly for the common courtesy greeting. “Guilty as charged” she responded with a laugh of her own, eyes flicking down to the visible tattoos that littered the skin on her arms and hands. “Ages ago but still good. I can tell you right now that my old Washable t-shirt that I bought at one of your gigs like 6 years ago is still my favorite.”

“If that’s what the lady wants, then that’s what she deserves,” Jake drawled. He dissolved into a little laugh as she nudged him. He sank back into the couch cushion with ease as she looked at his pictures of the baby. “I also have a signed album for you. Signed by me and few friends, so it’s more special. You have to sign it too since you helped, ya know.”

Jake flipped her hair at that. He would take no arguments about Tasha’s help in getting the album done. On top of being supportive when he mentioned being interested in making music again, she spent hours in the studio with him. There were many hours long conversations about chords and lyrics. All of which were crucial in making the words on the page become a living, breathing song.

At the mention of Jo, Jake thought back to visiting Jo at the hospital. A grin crossed his face as he leaned over to see what picture she paused on. It was a selfie he took when he went for a run. Jo was actually awake in this one and strapped to his chest. It was difficult not to smile at the baby’s gummy smile. “His is, so much so that the nurses in the elevator knew he was my kid before I even saw him – and probably tomorrow night, I want to get us matching jackets. Leather jackets, too.”

Humble was ingrained in Tasha’s DNA; even with her mounting fame growing wealth the neglect she faced as a child held her back from seeing herself better than anyone else. While it generally is considered an admirable trait, it also made the singer rarely see herself as helpful or worthy of anyone’s time. So when Jake spoke of her signing the album as well, the shock on her face was genuine. “I’d love to sign it” she breathed out lightly, a smile pushing its way past the surprised expression on her face.

“Oh now that I believe, no one else’s kid could have that much curly brown hair at birth” she said with a chuckle, her heart swelling at how happy Jake and Jo looked in the photo. “Please get matching jackets, I just might die” she said as her hand flew to her chest at the idea. Tasha was  sucker for all things cheesy and adorable.

“You’re going to be a great Dad, Jake. Actually no, you already are.” Sincerity poured from her voice, lips turning upward in a tight smile, truly happy for her friend. Still, she couldn’t help the pang of regret in her chest, actions of the singer’s past always bubbled to the surface when children were mention. Her decision not to have a child ended the only relationship she’d ever had, and the unexpected miscarriage robbed her of the chance to change her mind. However, it was for the best, there was no way in hell she’d be a good mother. Tasha pushed herself to sit up straight, her finger reaching out again to scroll through the pictures some more, the warm smile returning. “How does it feel, honestly? The whole parent thing.”

“Hah, please. I’m sure they keep the back completely soaked so some white lady doesn’t piss herself from the lack of organic beans.” Aaron offered a kind smile towards her. He couldn’t really be mad at the scenario, at least, not with the face that came with it. There was a faint moment of recognition. His hand cupped under his chin as he looked over at her. “Actually, you know. I think I’ve met you before. Were you at the 2011 Grammys?” 

At his joke she couldn’t help but laugh because it was so true. She mostly came at this time to avoid being recognized, but avoiding the high-strung and privileged ladies of Whole Foods was a close second. “2011?” she breathed out, eyes drifting as she recalled the year. She had won her first Grammy in 2011, Song of the Year. “Oh yeah I was actually. My name is Tasha” she breathed out lightly, extending her hand in an introduction long overdue. “And you’re Aaron, right? You were in Jake’s old band. I’m not creepy or anything, I just like you guys’ music and I’m good friends with him.” Tasha was surprised it took her so long to recognize the man in front of her; she had attended one of their concerts before her own fame had grown and found the way he performed pretty incredible.

“It’s fine. I’ve been hit by worse, so you’re lucky you didn’t come face-to-face with an Upper East Side housewife,” Solomon said with a bark of laughter at his own joke. As she tucked away her sunglasses, he looked back at the aisle for a package of rice. He unceremoniously dropped two into the cart. Then, paused at the seasoning next to it. He liked her music, but he was well past the point in his life to start gushing to a celebrity about their work. They knew they were talented and great; they didn’t need him going on and on about what the music meant to him. Someone else could do that for him. “Makes sense,” he quipped. It was a lie, it didn’t make sense to him. He would do anything and everything to not grocery shop save for pay someone upwards of fifty dollars a pop per delivery. He glanced over as she mumbled, then shook his head, “You can take those. I got the last one. I’m just buying them to fill up the pantry to save face.”

Tasha blinked once, then twice at his joke, her reaction time dulled by the fact that it was 4am and she was still at the moment convinced she hurt him. But with his laugh her shoulders relaxed and she let out a chuckle of her own, fingers threading through her hair as she looked around. “Yeah I guess you’re right, they only come out after 10am.” He continued to shops so a crisis was avoided, though her blood was still buzzing with a bit of adrenaline. “Are you sure? I could just like order some from Amazon. I didn’t even know they sold cereal until yesterday” she replied coolly as if she didn’t have 20 different flavors saved on her ‘wish list’. Though he was much taller the man in front of her didn’t come off as a threat. He seemed to have a bit of a blunt kindness, the type that came with a bit of bite; and he definitely didn’t seem like the type that needed to be run over with a cart at 4am. Formalities weren’t needed in the early morning twilight zone that was the grocery store, but they were provided anyway. “I’m Tasha by the way. What’s your name?”

“'Involuntary,’ or so she says,” Olivia said with a lopsided grin. She leaned against her own cart as Tasha ran a hand over her face. The concern faded away as she reached out. She sank into the hug with ease, the alcohol from earlier still had her feeling warm and fuzzy. When Tasha pulled back, she looked around the aisle to see if any of the food she mentioned was within reach. “I wouldn’t think that either, but now I want to try it,” Olivia said with a tilt of her head. At the question, her gaze snapped back to Tasha. She flung a hand to her cart with a smile. “Pancake mix for Marcel,” she said, pride evident in her voice since there was a box of mix somewhere in the pile. "But, I may leave with half the store, because this is a rare occasion. What are you getting? I’m open to adding suggestions to the mess.”

“Pinky swear that I wasn’t trying to commit a hit and run in Whole Foods” Tasha responded with a warm smile. They truly were the only ones in the store besides the employees, so the rein was unlimited; the multiple isles of organic food was their’s to roam without the need to lurk in the shadows out of fear of recognition. “Then off to the ice-cream section we go, I know I saw at least one of them left.” Side by side their carts took up the entire isle, the wheels squeaking alone as the strolled, tossing in one unnecessary item after the next. “You’re truly inspector gadget because I’ve been coming here forever and hadn’t found the pancake mix yet. I’m looking for this like one brand of Kombucha but I think they stopped selling it, so it looks like i’m getting ginger tea and hella ice-cream today. Oh and sweet potato fries.”

He liked to consider himself a good boss. He brought in breakfast and coffee most days, and tried to give the employees in his care as much free time and days off as he, and they, could afford. He had forgotten over the weekend to make sure that he had enough food to bring in, which was why he found himself at Whole Foods before the morning rush set in. He would rather go at four in the morning than deal with it when it got busy, which was his philosophy when it came to almost anything in the city. He started when he felt the cart jerk against his leg, bumping into his own cart and promptly dropping the yogurt he was holding. He winced, terrified to look down and see if he had made a mess this early in the morning. “Oh, no, I’m fine. I’m unsure whether or not the yogurt is, but I’m in one piece.”

Quickly Tasha abandoned her sunglasses and cart, rushing over to the traffic accident she created with a worried look. The yogurt was utterly decimated, an unfortunate casualty of the crash, but she was more concerned with the state of the man she ran into. “Are you sure? I was kinda in the zone and moving pretty fast. These carts can be unforgiving” she spoke while resisting the urge to stare, eyes looking for bruises that would be impossible to see. In an effort to minimize the work for a store employee Tasha grabbed a small packet of tissue from her bag before kneeling down and attempting to clean up the spoiled dairy product. “Probably not the best way to start the morning, I’m really sorry. It did miss your shoes though.”

There was something calming about grocery stores in the early morning hours, in the same way that it felt like a bubble between worlds. She couldn’t quite explain it - that it felt like a liminal space where she was both Fallon Robinson and no one, all at the same time. She was aimlessly wandering the aisles, trying to determine what would satisfy her cravings for the week. She was, essentially, hopeless in the kitchen, but she was doing her best to learn. She hadn’t asked herself why it mattered now, of all times, and she much preferred it that way. Setting a head of broccoli into her cart and staring, focused, at the rest of the vegetables, she didn’t even notice the cart approaching until someone spoke. “No, no, you’re fine.” Fallon responded with an even smile, leaning her arm against the cart. “Late night shopping? Or, well, it could easily be considered early morning, too.”

Tasha stood with baited breath, eyes wide as she waited for the woman to respond to her apologies and question. When words of reassurance were spoken the singer relaxed, breath expelling as her tense shoulder dropped. “Oh thank goodness, I didn’t want to be the cause of someone’s shattered ankles” Tasha responded with a light chuckle, choosing to tuck her sunglasses away instead of putting them back on. It was easier to talk to people that way and it greatly decreased her chance of running into someone again. “Let’s go with early morning. I always liked coming before anyone else did because then this place turns into something like a peaceful Twilight Zone episode. What brings you out this early?”

“I’ll sue the cart.” Aaron replied. He was a sap, but at least he was a formal one. He knelt down where Tasha scrambled for the beans. A sliver of her stomach peeked through as she held some of the stray beans from the paper bag. He scooped a handful before looking over at her. He moved the bag so she could dump her shirt in. “Thank you. I mean, shit. People are a lot ruder in the mornings.” 

“I’ll give you the number of my lawyer, he’ll make sure you get top dollar” she responded lightly. Tasha scooped up a few more of the sad beans into her shirt before lifting the fabric a bit higher to dump it into the bag he held out. “Some would say running someone down like it was Mario Cart is pretty rude” she said with a chuckle; fingers extending to pick up the last stray beans. “I really am sorry though, I hope this wasn’t the last bag of these. Isle 5, right?” They could check if there were any left, and if not the guilt would surly make her venture to another store to find one.

Early mornings weren’t his forte. Most of the time, he could excuse a rock star lifestyle to waking up a noon. Then again, studio executives didn’t take kindly to afternoon meetings. His mind blindly buzzed off of one pot of coffee. Speaking of which, was the only reason to be at Whole Foods this early. He curled his fingers around a bag. As soon as the cart slammed into his hip, an unkind yelp fell from his lips as did the bag of beans. He looked sadly down at the floor rather than the woman.  “I think you bruised my ego more than anything.” 

The yelp made Tasha feel like she’d run over a puppy dog, a mixture of guilt and horror manifesting on her face. The vehicle of destruction (aka the shopping cart) was abandoned as she rushed forward, dropping to her knees to begin picking up the now scattered beans. “I’m really sorry, I was wearing sunglasses and headphones and there’s like never anyone in her at 4am, you know? And your ego... I’m sorry about that too. I blame the cart.” she spoke while throwing occasional glaces up at the man, the beans placed inside a pocket she made out of the extra fabric of her t-shirt.

As he an Tasha embraced in his doorway, Jake felt light. Tasha was one of few people that knew he was considering getting back into music well before the tour. Aside from the band, she got to see some of his lyrics and talked music with him for hours before he went to record. As someone that only sang backup and played the bass, the jump to a soloist was a big one. Tasha helped it seem like less daunting, and with the years worth of friendship stretched between them he felt more and more gratitude towards her. Which was why he gave her a little nudge. “Just let me know when you want to see me play. I’ll make sure Tasha Taylor gets the VIP treatment she deserves,” Jake grinned as he looked down at the present in her arms.

“You really didn’t have to, but I’m sure you’ll be one of Jo’s favorites,” Jake said as he sat the present down by the couch. He made sure there was room for her to sit, and made a big show of pulling back the gold wrapping at the sight of the range rover he laughed. “Pretty sure this is nicer than my actual car – and he’ll be more stylish than me, too.”

“Thank you,” Jake said as he leaned in for another hug. He picked up his phone and opened one of the albums. “It’s definitely a letdown, but I don’t have him right now. I do have thousands of pictures and videos, though.”

“The only thing I want to be is in the front row, sweating and jumping up and down with everyone else. Also so I can make funny faces at you while you sing but ya know, that’s just a given” she responded while nudging him back with her shoulder. When Jake told her about his want to return to music she was overjoyed. She then have an even better excuse to get him over to her place and inside the recording studio; the two going back and forth on lyric, tempo, and chord ideas. Music making was tedious, but it was something both of them couldn’t live without. Plus the fact that he trusted her with his music meant more than others could imagine.

Though she was a bit wary of children (more so her ability to care for them) the first time she saw Jonah she fell in love. He looked so much like his father and she couldn’t help but to spoil her new and only nephew. She clapped excitedly when Jake finally opened the gift, knowing it was a bit extravagant but she couldn’t help herself in the slightest.

She perked up again at the mention of photos, leaning her body closer to take a look at the images and videos lighting up the screen. Tasha couldn’t help but melt, seeing so much joy in Jo’s eyes and Jake’s made her heart swell. “He honestly is a mini version of you, the hair and everything. You guys need matching sweaters. When is the next time you’ll have him over?”