THE BIG DEAL: PART 9
Cherry and Olivia could not, for the life of them, find Olivia’s favorite ultra-green vegan eatery, so the only acceptable substitute was an IHOP down the street. After a few autographs for fans who’d just left the show, the pair devoured their very late breakfasts.
“Wonder where the boys went,” hummed Olivia. “Haze is probably digesting three cheeseburgers by now.” She shook her head in disapproval; Cherry decided not to tell her of the late night McDonalds runs she’d been going on with the bassist.
“Maybe,” sighed Cherry, stabbing through her food miserably.
“What’s gotten you? We should be celebrating!” Olivia smiled. “No more queen of herpes!” A middle-aged woman in the booth behind theirs began to choke. The flautist giggled.
“Just things.” Cherry cleared her throat. “Stress, y’know, and--“
“Sweet?”
“Olly, stop it…” Cherry sighed again, combing through her hair with her fingers. “Believe it or not, I do have other things on my mind…”
Olivia dabbed her mouth with her napkin in exaggerated daintiness and set it down, drumming her long, plain fingernails on the tabletop as she looked up at the ceiling as if in extreme concentration.
“Oh, right, you do. I’m sorry. Sweet and Dev.” Cherry’s expression dropped into a scowl as Olivia continued.
“Face it, Cherry. You’re….” Olivia groaned. “Addicted.”
“Addicted!?” squawked the trombonist, slamming her hand on the table. The ice cubes in her glass tinkled together. “Addicted to what?”
“Hush, darling. When people know who you are, you shouldn’t be yelling about addictions.” She stroked Cherry’s hand with her thumb. “But… I think you’re addicted to the wrong kind of man.”
Cherry’s face became as red as her namesake, and she retreated her words into her straw, blowing bubbles in her water.
“When you first joined- you were with that Jim guy-“
“He was all I had!”
“You stayed with him until he left you for some other girl!” Cherry’s eyes stung a little.
“I’ve grown up since then, Olly. It’s been five whole years. I’m not seventeen anymore…”
“You still liked him then, Cherry. He’s a good friend, and a great musician. I don’t know about Dev- but I don’t think either of them are good for you in the least.”
“How do you know what’s good for me?!” Cherry nearly yelled. Their booth was silent for a few minutes; Cherry looked out the window. The cars rushing by seemed to always go in slow motion when she felt alone. A girl outside was smoking under the street lights with her friends, and for a moment, she longed to be there. She’d sworn off substances of all sorts except for a few drinks when she felt up to it, but in times like this it was all too tempting to go through Haze’s things and grab the first thing she could find and go nuts.
Cherry looked back at Olivia, who was still frowning. However, her attention had moved from Cherry to something else, behind Cherry. Cherry whipped her head around to see Dev’s playful smirk.
“Good evening, ladies. Miss Olivia… and mon Cherie.” His French accent was surprisingly convincing. Olivia raised an eyebrow.
“I’m so sorry for barging in, but I could hear you clear across the restaurant and thought I’d say hello… Mind if I join you?”
Cherry’s words flew out of her throat. “We were kind of---“ Olivia shushed her.
“Sure, Dev.” Olivia smirked, and Cherry knew her friend was planning something sinister. She slid into the corner of their booth and Dev slid in after her, touching her hand gently. Cherry shivered and gnawed on her lip. Olivia remained smug.
“So, Dev.” Olivia sat up a bit straighter. “I thought you hated us all. I mean, that’s what you told Super Mag.” She clicked her nails against the table again. “Told ‘em we were scum. Garbage. A week before Haze’s interview.”
“My manager told me it was Sweet’s interview. We don’t get along.” Dev squeezed Cherry’s hand. “I don’t really know the rest of you enough.”
“Thanks for making us look like shit on your generalizations.” Olivia scrunched up her nose a little.
“Can we stop this?” Cherry pleaded, her voice quivering a little. She felt sick to her stomach picking sides- even though she knew Dev was wrong, part of her didn’t want him to turn from her. She needed someone to go along with her- make this whole charade work.
And then maybe Sweet would get jealous and love her. What a stupid idea… foolish, juvenile. Dev and Olivia faded away from her hearing as Cherry began to feel more and more self-loathing rising in her gut. Maybe she hadn’t grown up at all.
Before she could even realize it, her mascara was running down her face with her tears as the arguing got louder and louder. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently.
“Cherry? Cherry, snap out of it!” Olivia was calling her, and Dev’s hand was the one shaking her. Cherry inhaled sharply and looked down at her lap.
“Sorry.” Cherry murmured, letting Dev stroke her hair without really realizing it. Olivia’s face twisted and she stood up.
“I’m sick of this. I’ll see you at the hotel.” She scoffed, stalking out of IHOP and down the street. Cherry burst into tears again. Dev sighed and pulled off his sunglasses.
“Here. I know you girls are always worried about the paparazzi. I’ll pay for the bill and we’ll go for a walk.” Cherry whimpered as she put on the oversized white-rimmed glasses.
“You’re just tryin’ to get me to your hotel room, Dev.” Cherry swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not gonna work, okay?” Dev gave her a half-scowl, half-smirk, and he knew he was beat.
“Well, I’ll still walk you to your bus. C’mon.”
“Wonder where the boys went,” hummed Olivia. “Haze is probably digesting three cheeseburgers by now.” She shook her head in disapproval; Cherry decided not to tell her of the late night McDonalds runs she’d been going on with the bassist.
“Maybe,” sighed Cherry, stabbing through her food miserably.
“What’s gotten you? We should be celebrating!” Olivia smiled. “No more queen of herpes!” A middle-aged woman in the booth behind theirs began to choke. The flautist giggled.
“Just things.” Cherry cleared her throat. “Stress, y’know, and--“
“Sweet?”
“Olly, stop it…” Cherry sighed again, combing through her hair with her fingers. “Believe it or not, I do have other things on my mind…”
Olivia dabbed her mouth with her napkin in exaggerated daintiness and set it down, drumming her long, plain fingernails on the tabletop as she looked up at the ceiling as if in extreme concentration.
“Oh, right, you do. I’m sorry. Sweet and Dev.” Cherry’s expression dropped into a scowl as Olivia continued.
“Face it, Cherry. You’re….” Olivia groaned. “Addicted.”
“Addicted!?” squawked the trombonist, slamming her hand on the table. The ice cubes in her glass tinkled together. “Addicted to what?”
“Hush, darling. When people know who you are, you shouldn’t be yelling about addictions.” She stroked Cherry’s hand with her thumb. “But… I think you’re addicted to the wrong kind of man.”
Cherry’s face became as red as her namesake, and she retreated her words into her straw, blowing bubbles in her water.
“When you first joined- you were with that Jim guy-“
“He was all I had!”
“You stayed with him until he left you for some other girl!” Cherry’s eyes stung a little.
“I’ve grown up since then, Olly. It’s been five whole years. I’m not seventeen anymore…”
“You still liked him then, Cherry. He’s a good friend, and a great musician. I don’t know about Dev- but I don’t think either of them are good for you in the least.”
“How do you know what’s good for me?!” Cherry nearly yelled. Their booth was silent for a few minutes; Cherry looked out the window. The cars rushing by seemed to always go in slow motion when she felt alone. A girl outside was smoking under the street lights with her friends, and for a moment, she longed to be there. She’d sworn off substances of all sorts except for a few drinks when she felt up to it, but in times like this it was all too tempting to go through Haze’s things and grab the first thing she could find and go nuts.
Cherry looked back at Olivia, who was still frowning. However, her attention had moved from Cherry to something else, behind Cherry. Cherry whipped her head around to see Dev’s playful smirk.
“Good evening, ladies. Miss Olivia… and mon Cherie.” His French accent was surprisingly convincing. Olivia raised an eyebrow.
“I’m so sorry for barging in, but I could hear you clear across the restaurant and thought I’d say hello… Mind if I join you?”
Cherry’s words flew out of her throat. “We were kind of---“ Olivia shushed her.
“Sure, Dev.” Olivia smirked, and Cherry knew her friend was planning something sinister. She slid into the corner of their booth and Dev slid in after her, touching her hand gently. Cherry shivered and gnawed on her lip. Olivia remained smug.
“So, Dev.” Olivia sat up a bit straighter. “I thought you hated us all. I mean, that’s what you told Super Mag.” She clicked her nails against the table again. “Told ‘em we were scum. Garbage. A week before Haze’s interview.”
“My manager told me it was Sweet’s interview. We don’t get along.” Dev squeezed Cherry’s hand. “I don’t really know the rest of you enough.”
“Thanks for making us look like shit on your generalizations.” Olivia scrunched up her nose a little.
“Can we stop this?” Cherry pleaded, her voice quivering a little. She felt sick to her stomach picking sides- even though she knew Dev was wrong, part of her didn’t want him to turn from her. She needed someone to go along with her- make this whole charade work.
And then maybe Sweet would get jealous and love her. What a stupid idea… foolish, juvenile. Dev and Olivia faded away from her hearing as Cherry began to feel more and more self-loathing rising in her gut. Maybe she hadn’t grown up at all.
Before she could even realize it, her mascara was running down her face with her tears as the arguing got louder and louder. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently.
“Cherry? Cherry, snap out of it!” Olivia was calling her, and Dev’s hand was the one shaking her. Cherry inhaled sharply and looked down at her lap.
“Sorry.” Cherry murmured, letting Dev stroke her hair without really realizing it. Olivia’s face twisted and she stood up.
“I’m sick of this. I’ll see you at the hotel.” She scoffed, stalking out of IHOP and down the street. Cherry burst into tears again. Dev sighed and pulled off his sunglasses.
“Here. I know you girls are always worried about the paparazzi. I’ll pay for the bill and we’ll go for a walk.” Cherry whimpered as she put on the oversized white-rimmed glasses.
“You’re just tryin’ to get me to your hotel room, Dev.” Cherry swallowed the lump in her throat. “It’s not gonna work, okay?” Dev gave her a half-scowl, half-smirk, and he knew he was beat.
“Well, I’ll still walk you to your bus. C’mon.”