#rikah

Who knows what he’d gotten up to in two years, she for one had tried to distance herself from her past self - moving out early, graduating, and finding a job in a new city to preoccupy herself. It was no dream, but she’d become used to the coffee runs, and tight deadlines, and swarming reminders of hierarchy status in the world of publishing, that she hardly had any time to think about her lack of personal life.

Then again, when had she ever?

It was easier to pile on distractions, consuming herself with studious accomplishments to hide the fact she was decaying inside, losing all variations of the self she used to know, falling apart at the seams and letting the guilt nip at her wounds poisoning her belief system that she was to blame for the disasters that tainted her life.

It was a good thing he’d escaped that so early on.

She couldn’t blame him as much anymore. He’d been the silver lining, blinding her with his sunshine, along with snarky teasing. When it ended, she fell prey to the black sinkhole, pulling at the unravelled leftovers of her optimism, until she was left with cynical mistrust, and bitter loneliness.

It was her curse to bear - far more heavy, and infectious than carrying a cross you could shift weight from, or have support to stand back up again after disaster struck. No, her cycle of tragedy was a curse they couldn’t cure. A curse she’d begun to embrace, succumbing to the familiar darkness and wearing it like armour to keep up her defences, rather than endure the painful chance at failed happiness once more.

She had grown to sympathize with the villainous characters in old storybooks, and new adaptations of well-rounded killers with clever motives, or no motive at all, terrorizing the world around them with pure instinct, and manipulation to make even the most heroic empathize with their twisted side of justice.

It all made far more sense to her now; that maybe the reason her happy endings kept being stolen away from her, was that she had misjudged her story genre, and characterization. She was destined to be the villain who was never written into the epilogue, getting what they deserved with jail time, death, or widowed love affairs.

That was the real justice after all; good winning over evil, right?

After all, he’d certainly won over her, just as much as he’d won her over that night.

She wasn’t blind. She could read between the lines of flirty tweets, and blurred or cropped photographs to know there was someone new in his life. It did stung however, that they looked similar enough to her own dark features. Perhaps it would’ve been easier to swallow if they’d been fair haired with light eyes, contrasting her own.

What had crushed her more, was watching him every Monday night at 8:00 p.m. for 10 straight weeks - heart dropping every time he was in jeopardy, mind racing everytime he hinted at personal moments during rehearsals, gut sinking everytime he had to step out on the floor and be critiqued to his core when he’d worked so passionately all week long giving his everything in the open without regrets.

What had crushed her more was watching the respect his partner gave him to the point of breaking down out of genuine concern for him and countless apologies for pushing him out of his element because she believed in him that strongly. It hurt more to watch someone else have such deep faith in him like she still held for him.

It hurt more to watch him struggle to identify with emotions strong enough to convey them physically instead of lyrically. It hurt more to watch his family take the screen to praise his talents and good natured self, and be reminded that he still hadn’t swayed from the boy she’d met 5 years before.

He was still the same boy she’d fell in love with and she was the burdened girl staring at her television screen, or listening to his voice flood her earphones, all bitter reminders of what she’d lost and never get back.

It was harder to watch him in his element, achieving his goals, and crumbling minorly to the pressure as the flawed boy she remembered arguing with in doorways of her room, coffee shop, and tour bus. The flawed boy she remembered answering a impulsive text message two years ago, raising her hopes again for a life she knew she could never have.

It was easier to watch him play a role at live shows, social media, interviewed recordings, and even in photographs. She could label him as the off-limits rockstar who’d moved on and up into the bright lights world of fame. When he showed his limitations and insecurities, is when she was triggered back to her own experiences and reminders of the unanswered voicemails he’d left, and unopened emails begging her for second chances, only to be ignored until the release date of Loud.

She knew she’d been in the wrong to leave him abandoned, but she’d justified it that he’d left first, and boundaries had clearly been defined that she wasn’t worth risking everything for. Deep down they’d both known it, and she’d been the only one to be honest about the ordeal and know that fate didn’t hold those cards for them.

Yet, here she was once again, reading between the lines of lyrics that had nothing to do with her anymore, with a smidge of curiosity that just maybe they did.

Here she was wondering if it would become tradition to make peace with him every album release date, only to drop conversation shortly after.

It was like a bad love affair they picked up out of habit one weekend every few years, knowing they could partially return to where they’d left off, but once they left the hotel room, they’d stay in radio silence the next rendezvous.

But it wasn’t fair to do that to him this time, not when she knew there was someone else. Last time was a fluke chance, strictly business about the entire band, with a vague prediction that he might be single, and a strong feeling that he’d have changed his number by then. She hadn’t expected him to answer.

This time it would be another risk of a wrong number, but she’d know all too well that he was dating someone else. It wasn’t fair for her as a somewhat ex lover to come crawling back into his life and throw everything off course. She had to keep her mouth shut, and her fingers away from the phone.

The upsides to the album release happening on a work day, was that she could ignore it while she rushed downtown grabbing coffee orders, sorting through emails and re-writing drafts for the final publication deadline at the end of the month. She could spend all weekend over analyzing her lack of a life, but today, she was on work time and had to put aside her scattered brain until she clocked out at 5:00 p.m.

At 5:03 p.m. she crammed herself in the elevator with the rest of her co-workers and managed to balance her phone on top of the work she was bringing home to review over the weekend - solely for the purpose of distraction rather than paid overtime, but that perk helped too. Her phone blinked back that she had four unread emails, likely automated store promotions bragging about sales that she really needed to remember to unsubscribe from, and three unread text messages.

She shifted the weight of her binders and tote bag of papers to access her inbox and watched her phone slip and bang against the aluminium coloured floor just to make more of a scene. Jostling around the claustrophobic atmosphere, she retrieved her phone only to stop at a floor and be closed in by more bustling employees TGIF-ing that it was finally the weekend.

3 New Messages:

Bell: We are offering upgrades to… Unknown Number: read between the lines yet? Mum: Saw on the news that…

Ignoring any concern her mother might have for her well-being in the big bad city, and  deleting her service providers automatic notice, she left the Unknown Number’s text glaring at her with her paranoid mind turned up to its full setting.

The elevator started down again, interrupting her thoughts and leading her to drop her phone in her tote bag until she reached her car.

She was paranoid of course. It was a wrong number. A miscommunication, or a prank about her publishing job.

It was completely reckless and ridiculous to think anything otherwise.

She promised she wasn’t getting involved this time.

But it was a high coincidence considering the date.

No. Why would he text her? After everything, after two years, after being seen with someone who was basically his non-official girlfriend, he was not going to be sending her any messages.

He had moved on and she had moved away.

She was being borderline psychotic to even think he had remembered their last record release run-in; plus, it was two EP’s ago.

She turned her key in the ignition and left the phone unanswered in the passenger seat until she locked herself back in her apartment and had an entire pot of coffee and a bowl of popcorn and a classic horror flick to survive the insomnia that was bound to strike when she was this wound up. She might as well embrace the lack of serenity by increasing her caffeine intake.

The tv was defaulted to a news channel, so she had to consider what local news had flared up her mother’s concern, remembering the unanswered text message, and deciding she could answer just one. A quick reply that she was safe and sound and then turn it off for the night.

3 New Messages:

Unknown Number: track 9 Unknown Number: read between the lines yet? Mum: Saw on the news that…

They texted her again. An obvious ‘you’ll know who I am now’ kind of text.

Shit.

She clicked on her mother’s message and typed the reply back before returning to her inbox and hovering over the two unread texts.

What was she meant to do? Why did he even text her? What did he want her to say? Was this some proud attempt to throw her off her progress and ask for praise? He was the one who had been seen as an off-the-market item.

If he’d checked up on her there would be high privacy settings and an obvious sparse timeline of activity, reaching the conclusion that she indeed had no life.

Unless he had remembered, and he had extended an olive branch of peace just as she had the first time around. He was returning the favour and ending on good terms again.

She decided to take out her ipod and listen to the track again. She’d downloaded the album, but refused to listen to it, only using track titles as her guide for paranoid conclusions. If there was going to be a song about her, it was probably Did You Have Your Fun?, likely a nasty breakup fuck you about her playing around with his heart .

How would he know if she listened to it? It didn’t mean she had to answer him. He’d been foolish enough to send short texts she could read without opening. He would never have to know.

Track 9, I Know You Got Away

It wasn’t about her. He was dating someone; he wasn’t the cheating type. But she hadn’t considered him the one night stand type either. He wouldn’t be writing about a relationship that barely was even classified as one, that happened 5 years ago. He wouldn’t be writing about her now.

But then why had he texted? Why had he done the chanced risk of texting a wrong number with your desperate confessions plastered all over the screen?

The good thing was that she hadn’t caved. He had indeed finally changed his number so the contact in her phone was wrong. She could always pretend she never saw it, and that she’d changed her number too and been one of those dicks who didn’t answer the text to at least let the person know they had the wrong number. Or she could lie and say it was the wrong number anyway. How would he know the difference from a world away?

She drowned out her own thoughts by plugging in her earphones and pressing Play. Once again, he wasn’t the one singing - a twisted feeling of relief that at least he wasn’t saying the words to her, even if he had written the lyrics.

It was a very different sound than she’d expected. She knew they’d been dabbling in new genres, but she never expected this much of a mature theme compared to their usual stuff. Had he meant to tell her this song?

Fine. If he was playing dirty in all senses of the word by writing about their sex life from five years ago, she was giving it right back.

To: Unknown Number Glad to know I make that much of an impression.

She scrolled through the song titles again, picking her brain on what to think of them now. She’d assumed they were all about their girlfriends, the new ones, and now he’d just made everything confusing and chaotic.

This still wasn’t fair. She wasn’t going to let him away with it that easy.

To: Unknown Number Why now?

She wasn’t going to call him out directly in fear of looking like she’d spent the past few years stalking his life - which she hadn’t. But when you follow musicians, their personal life bleeds into social media eventually, and you’re bound to find out.

When the song ended, she decided to play a few others before returning to it with an analytical mind. She wanted to see the feel of the rest of the album before she assumed anything.

She settled her curiosity on Did You Have Your Fun? Turned out, she wasn’t too far off in assuming it was about her. It still could be since the lyrics were vague enough, but technically he’d done more of a runner, so she had to let that one go.

As habit, her ipod shuffled songs automatically, and the surprise of finally hearing his voice start off a verse made her stomach drop. She had to admit lyrically it was on the weaker side compared to their others, but it felt so nostalgic to hear him actually having verses to sing. However, she couldn’t help but label it as a new girlfriend song. She wasn’t that addicting, despite the fact he’d texted her first.

Part of her had to smile along to the corny bullshit they were playing and remember how fun their initial meetup had been. They were always going to bring the Cali sunshine and beach attitudes with them wherever they went. That was just something in their DNA. But the more she remembered the good moments of that first day, the more painful it was to remember how messy everything had become after they chose to be selfish and run off together, ruining the entire dynamic.

1 New Message

Unknown Number: It’s what we do. Text each other at album releases.

Rolling her eyes, she sighed in annoyance at his attempt to either avoid or be so oblivious to not realize the real meaning of her question.

To: Unknown Number I mean the song. Why are you still writing about it?

It. That was safe language. She wasn’t jumping to conclusions to say anything about the fact he was writing about her - just in case someone was looking over his shoulder.

She got an answer right away after that.

Unknown Number: You’re not a good listener then 😎

God damnit he loved that fucking emoji.

To: Unknown Number What do you want me to say?

Unknown Number: Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude about it. It may be logical for most people to be over relationships in a three year span, but things have always never really be finished between you and I, so I keep writing.

To: Unknown Number /

The blank space on the keyboard blinked at her as she tried to figure out a response. He was right. They never really had much to begin with, and then it was over, and there was always some magnetic pull bringing them back to their unfinished business.

It would be much easier to talk this through, but she didn’t think she could endure that again. It was hard enough hearing his voice on the tv, or in the songs she was skimming through, to hear him talk about this was different. It would be worse than when he was Dancing With the Stars.

To: Unknown Number We can’t keep doing this though. It’s not fair to everyone else.

It never was. That was the downfall. Their selfish act had buggered things up, and she was not about to have him lose his relationship over her.

Unknown Number: It’s about us. No one else is involved in that.

What was that supposed to mean? It was pretty clear that he and Savannah were an item for the past year, even if they were being low-key about it. He couldn’t lie to her like this and expect her not to stay naive.

To: Unknown Number That’s not true.

Unknown Number: How would you know?

To: Unknown Number I’m not blind

Unknown Number: And I’m never admitted to anything. Things get twisted all the time here. You know that in your line of work.

To: Unknown Number Leave my job out of it. I’m not working for a gossip magazine.

Unknown Number: Would I really be writing about you if I was with someone else?

To: Unknown Number I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken in two years.

Unknown Number: Don’t blame me for that.

To: Unknown Number You didn’t have to get involved in the first place

Unknown Number: Neither did you

To: Unknown Number Why do you care so much what I think?

She set her phone aside and shuffled into the kitchen to grab a mug of coffee and leave him to stew as well.

He had started it this round. He couldn’t blame her again. She’d done enough of that in the past few years. It was her default reaction, and having him reassure her of it was only setting her back again.

He didn’t need to text her, but he did. He didn’t need to keep writing about her, but he did. He was actively choosing to keep stringing them out when they;d barely had a shelf life in the first place. Why was it so important to him?

Why was it so important to her?

Why couldn’t they both drop it and move on? She thought he did? But apparently the non-confirmed relationship had all been for show. Still, it made her uneasy. They only really ever spoke at album releases. If that was their destiny, it wasn’t worth all this torture. The distance and choice in careers would always be their road block. But she’d begun to accept that. Why couldn’t he? He was the one who had left.

When she returned to the room, her phone was blinking with message notifications.

She didn’t know if she had the energy to keep a petty fight going with him.

Unknown Number: I just do

Don’t you think if I could’ve gotten over you, I would’ve by now?

I tried to fix things and you didn’t call me back

Both of us are to blame, but I didn’t text you today to fight about this. I genuinely care about what you think. You can make up your own reason why, but we both know the truth.

Are you still there?

And there it was. “We both know the truth.” In five words, he’d made her read between the lines again to confirm that feeling they’d both refused to say out loud.

Calling Unknown Number…

“Sarah?”

“Riker.”

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Why do we always fight first instead of just telling the truth?”

“It’s easier I guess.”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you always trying to win me back, when you’re the one who left?”

“Why are you never letting me?”

“What’s the point? We don’t work. Besides, look at how big your career’s become since we first met. I can’t compete with that.”

“I never asked you to.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t true. Writing about someone, and falling for an idea of a person you really only met once isn’t the same thing as knowing them.”

“And giving up before you get the chance to even attempt the challenge isn’t right either.”

-Pause-

“Maybe this is why we didn’t work.”

“Hey! Don’t say that.”

“Why not? We don’t talk Riker. Sometimes we get caught up in what we started, but what if that’s all there is? Maybe there’s a reason we don’t catch a break? You can’t keep being hung up on me when that happened three years ago, and we’ve barely talked since.”

“Maybe I’m hung up on you because of that? Maybe I’m hung up on you because I’m still missing something. Sure, maybe you’re right? Maybe we couldn’t work, but we’ve never really tried. How can you know if you don’t chance it? Where are we getting by avoiding it?”

“Riker…”

“Why won’t you just say yes?”

“Because it’s too late! You’re too far, and you’ve got all of this going for you, and I’m really not that exciting anymore! You haven’t really known me for three years; how can you say you still want me and not just think you want the idea of me?”

“Well, I’d say that’s my decision.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned. Now will you stop blaming me?”

“I’ll stop, but only if you let me give this a shot.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair.”

“Shut up, Riker. You can just give me ultimatums like this.”

“Well you don’t answer me when I say it otherwise.”

“How is this going to work? You’re touring, and I’m working and we’re not going to be meeting up until you come tour here and I can spend another night with you, but it would all be long distance, and I don’t know if you really want that? It’s really hard. You can make it work, but if we are so used to miscommunication now, that’s only going to increase if we dated.”

“I’m on the road all the time. It’s always been like this, and we’ve been doing this off and on thing for years, we’d only be increasing it. How is that bad?”

“Sometimes you’re too positive for your own good.”

“You just gotta remember to smile.”

“That was a bad line, Riker.”

“I know.”

“...Fine, we can try it.”

“Really?”

“Well not if you’re gonna be that shocked, asshole.”

“I never expected it, though. That you’d ever say yes.”

“I never expected you to contact me two years later.”

“Are you glad I did?”

“I guess so. It’s still really confusing, though.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“How are things going for you tonight? You guys must be swamped with promo.”

“Yeah, but it’s all good! We’re having a fun time with it all, and have been planning it for a while so it’s not as crazy, just flows better since we spent so long figuring it all out before.”

“That’s good! You sound good… Your attitude, the new band sound, a lot has changed, but it’s a good change. You sound amazing on this album, even though you’re singing backup.”

“I have a song.”

“I miss your voice, though.”

“I missed yours too. I’m glad you answered.”

“I wasn’t going to. I spent all morning saying I wasn’t going to text you like last time.”

“Yeah, I figured I would take the torch this time.”

“Part of me is glad you did, but I still feel weird.”

“That’s okay. We just have to get to know each other again.”

“You sure you wanna sign up for this?”

“I can juggle it. I planned tour when I was on Dancing With the Stars.”

“I know.”

“You watched me?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one who wasn’t over us.”

‘I can support you and be over you.”

“But you’re not, or else you would’ve said no.”

“You still made me think you were dating Savannah!”

“Yeah, well, you can only dodge the relationship rumors for so long before you have to start cooperating… We’re just friends. She knows about you.”

“That’s not creepy.”

“In a good way of course!”

“Still… All of this is weird.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Watching horror movies. You having another release party?”

“Nah, I’m gonna video chat my maybe girlfriend.”

“You are not cancelling on an album release party for me!”

“What if I want to?”

“No. Go hang out with your friends. You can call me tomorrow. i’ll change your name in my phone.”

“Why what is it now? Douchebag?”

“Unknown Name.”

“Name me something cool.”

“In your dreams, Captain Jack.”

“Wasn’t my paso amazing?”

“Ego much? No, it was phenomenal. I was so proud of you. And I really liked Allison.”

“Me too! She’s coming tonight.”

“Oh good!”

“...Yeah, be there in a sec!”

“Sorry, I’m keeping you.”

“It’s Ell… We have to go soon. Can I text you tonight?”

“Sure, but you don’t have to. Just enjoy yourself.”

“I always do!”

“Tell everyone I’m proud of you guys… I mean, if it’s awkward, then don’t bring it up, but yeah.”

“I’ll tell them. Thanks Sarah.”

“Don’t thank me, you guys did all the hard work. But it really paid off, and I hope everyone celebrates that success tonight.”

“It’s really nice to hear that people like the new sound, even if we’ve been getting a lot of ‘Is that really you?’”

“It’s a good different, I promise… But hey, thanks for texting first.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll talk to you later, I guess?”

“I’ll give you updates.”

“Okay. Have fun tonight!”

“You too. Don’t scare yourself too hard.”

“I don’t scare that easy anymore.”

“Unless it’s confessing that we’re in love.”

“What?”

“Uh, I gotta go. Text you later!”

“I said yes, didn’t I?”

“I do too.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Yeah me too.”

“Bye Riker.”

Unknown Number: I mean that. I just didn’t want to say it that way.

To: Unknown Number That’s fine. We got nothing but time to make the most of this life… We’ll be alright

Unknown Number: Do not use my lyrics against me 😒

To: Unknown Number You started it 😏