Part One
Time Rolls On, and Dreams They Die
Time rolls on, and dreams they die, and I’ve thrown out the pictures I had, of you and I. And if you’re ever wondering if love can be true, then think of me, remember darling, like I do.
From MTV.Com, May 19th 2009.
Cobra Starship announced suddenly last night that they would no longer be appearing on the ‘Believers Never Die (Part Deux)’ Tour. Lead singer Gabe Saporta announced to a crowd at Lakefront Arena, New Orleans that ‘this will be the last show you see Cobra Starship play for a long time.’ All remaining appearances by the band have been cancelled. The news comes days after their single ‘Good Girls Go Bad’, featuring Gossip Girls’ Leighton Meester, was released on iTunes.
Rumours on Cobra Starship’s message board have suggested that the split is due to tension within the band, caused by the band’s sudden commercial success and pressures of touring. There are no clues as to whether the split is temporary or permanent: no official announcements have been made, and a spokesperson for the group was unable to comment.
***
June 1st, 2009
Victoria started at the boxes strewn across the otherwise bare living room. They were stacked up high by the kitchen, but she still knew what mess they were covering. The fridge was empty, and take out cartons were littered over the counter, barely touched. The empty bottles on the floor kind of made it looked like a hobo had moved in. Victoria, ironically, had a full face of make-up and hair freshly washed and blow-dried. Although it was past midnight, it was warm and humid, and she had the doors to the garden wide open. The city was unusually silent, with only the sound of the crickets’ song. On top of the TV in the corner, sitting on a layer of dust, Gizmo was curled up in a ball like a cat, staring across at her, as if to say ‘why the hell have you brought me here?’
It had all come crashing down so quickly, she thought. They had been half way through one of their most successful tours, and still writing as much as ever. And then she saw Lauren coming out of Gabe’s room one morning, and the next thing she knew Alex had him pinned against the side of the bus, Nate trying to pull them apart, her and Ryland just staring, powerless to do anything. And then Alex was walking away, and she could still see the look on his face as he spat at her ‘you should have told me, Vic...’
And here she was, alone, for what felt like the first time in her life, away from her noisy, messy family, away from her noisy, messy life on tour, and very, very far away from home.
***
They had been together for just over four years. He hadn’t been looking for a relationship, and never expected it to last this long. But there comes a time when all of your friends are in stable, long-term relationships, and you find yourself watching the end of the movie alone. When you end up sharing the bus with Worm. And then there’s someone who’s always around, who’s a warm body, with long soft hair and who looks at you like you’re the best thing in the room. And it’s someone to go to the movies with, someone to walk the dogs with, someone to bandage your wrists after a show.
And before you know it, its four years later, and just as quickly, it’s all over. You come home early one day, and you notice a sweater that’s not yours draped over a chair. The empty wine bottle with two empty glasses. Begging, sobbing. Urgent apologies that just pass over you. You start to realise how much you enjoy choosing the movie that you want to watch, and watching dirt track rides on YouTube all day.
And then you realise that the reason four years coasted by, was that it never really started to begin with.
***
Victoria had been the last to leave. She sat on the bus, watching as everyone gradually packed up their stuff and left. There were no big, dramatic goodbyes like when they normally finished a tour. Just a muffled goodbye, no eye contact, perhaps an awkward hug. Victoria attempted to pack up her stuff - she had two full cases when she first flew out. But when it came to packing it up, she either couldn’t find it, or it was broken. She filled a backpack and left the rest on the bus before she flew home to New York, alone.
As she let herself into her parents’ house, she remembered the last time she came home. Her mom had put up a banner and balloons on the door. She was embarrassed, but she didn’t really mind. This time it was dark, and cold. They were obviously out for the evening.
When they came back, a few hours later, she was laying on the sofa. Her bags were still in the hall, where the cab driver had dropped them, and she hadn’t turned on the lights or the heat. She realised she was still wearing her coat too when she heard her mom shriek ‘oh my god, is she dead?’ A pale skinny thing, face empty of anything, lying on her couch in the dark, what was she to expect?
And what was there to say about her life back on Long Island? Most of her friends were at work or college during the day. In the evenings, they had papers to write, laundry to do, families to see. The first few weeks she would wait until everyone was out and shuffle out of bed in a hoodie and sweats. She would feed Iggy, Gizmo and the cats, smoking out of the window whilst they greedily snuffled around their bowls. She would then shuffle back to bed, lie under the covers, and spend the day alternating between sleeping and watching Dawson’s Creek. Those kids needed to get a life, there were bigger problems in the world. At the same time, it was kind of comforting to know that nothing much changed when you became a grown-up.
When her parents came home from work, they would encourage her to get out of bed and eat dinner with them, or come to bridge night or golf at the country club. Her dad would start playing the piano, playing the intro over and over, hoping that she would start singing. At the weekends, she got fed up of her mom trying to pull her out of bed, so she went to her friend Lauren’s apartment, and they sat in her window, drinking vodka straight from the bottle and chain smoking, watching people go by. Sometimes they took photos, of them pouring coffee or making toast. But generally they would look at them back and delete them.
***
1999
Victoria was smoking in a stall in the girls’ bathroom when she heard it. She was supposed to be in gym, but it was easier to disappear when she could be anywhere on the lacrosse pitch. She was sat on top of the lid, knees crossed underneath her. She heard the door open and two pairs of clicky heels come in.
“Oh my god, did you see who Ryan Meyers was with last night. That Victoria girl.”
“Who?”
“You know, that girl with the roots. She sings in his band.”
“Oh my god, she is such a bitch. She just sits on her own in Math, and doesn’t bring herself to speak to anyone. The only people she’ll speak to are the people in her band.”
“I know, right?”
Victoria could feel a tear running down her cheek. Not that she cared or anything - she was in the bathroom to get away from the other kids just as much as she was to smoke. She angrily rubbed it away with her sleeve, and threw the butt down the toilet. Suddenly she went blonde and everyone suddenly realised she existed. It was so much easier before. She threw the door open.
“How dare you speak about me that way!” She wasn’t quite sure where the sudden burst of confidence had come from. The two girls stared at her, unaware that anyone else had been in the bathroom. For a moment, they looked embarrassed. Then they looked defiant. Victoria felt a dead weight at the bottom of her stomach. She shouldn’t have said anything.
“Listen, we’re all entitled to our opinions. We can say what we like. It’s not our fault you’re too stuck up to speak to any of us.”
For fuck’s sake, is that what they thought? That she considered herself to be on the social hierarchy? This was private school, and Victoria thought everyone was stuck up. At least when she was singing she could hang out with some normal people and forget that hierarchies even existed. She used to beg her mom to take her swimming at a public pool, rather than the country club, even though the public pool was disgusting.
“I ... “ all that bravado disappeared, and she realised she couldn’t be bothered any more. She ran from the bathroom, back to gym.
***
And then when she finished mourning, what was there to actually do? Say she went back to school, or got a job in a store or something, what would the paparazzi, the fans think? Then she thought how stupid she was being. It wasn’t as if she was so famous that she couldn’t live a normal life any more. She could imagine the headlines - ‘MTV star works at Walmart’, ‘from the Grammys to groceries’.
She supposed that the logical thing would be for her to get back into film - finish up with school, get an internship, maybe start doing some of her own stuff again ... but there was something stopping her, something that meant that her camera was still in a box under the bed somewhere.
So the call couldn’t have come at a better time. The phone started to ring as she took the last Dawson’s Creek disc out of the box, and realised that there was nothing left for her. They didn’t have to explain much...she was on a flight to LA the next day.
***
June 21st, 2009
There were two things she’s expected when she started doing voice work for Disney. One was that she’d be recording in the middle of the Magic Kingdom, or perhaps in Cinderella’s castle. It shouldn’t have been a surprise when she found the studio in a back street in LA. The sky was grey and wet, and someone had tossed over a trash can on the sidewalk.
Second, was that they’d roll out a red carpet or something, and treat her like a star. It was only for some animated film, and because it had come to the attention of Perez, she wondered if there would be some paparazzi. She put on extra make-up, just in case.
So the last thing she expected was to find herself walking in to four fifths of My Chemical Romance on her way to work. It was a long time since she had seen them. It had been at a festival in Europe, or maybe Japan. They’d said hi because they were Americans abroad, and that was what you did. They all seemed to remember her, and Gizmo too, who she held under her arm to stop him nosing through the trash and getting his paws dirty.
Victoria hadn’t acknowledged that Bob was the only one she hadn’t seen until she saw him, standing outside frowning at his phone. His hair was longer, brushing past his ears. He still had a hoodie on, like all the times she had seen him, although this one had some bear and an eagle on it. She decided to go over and say hi, even thought he didn’t really look like he wanted disturbing. It wasn’t like she had many more friends to lose anyway. As she approached him, he looked up at her, for a moment just staring at her with those icy blues, and then breaking into a smile.
“Victoria? Hey, what are you doing here?”
For a moment she wasn’t so sure herself. “I’m doing voice work, for a movie. We’re recording next to you actually.”
“Voice work? Oh yeah, I heard about what happened.” She was silent. “I’m sorry. Well, I don’t actually know what happened. No-one does. But I’m guessing, since you’re taking on work....”
“It’s just ... a temporary thing. You know, get out of New York for a while, spend some time on the beach, do some more singing.” She caught him looking at her lily white limbs. It was obvious she hadn’t been near the beach. That and it had rained pretty non-stop since she landed. Their silence was interrupted by Gizmo, who hadn’t had any attention for at least five minutes, deciding to scramble out from under Victoria’s arm, to jump at Bob’s feet.
“Oh my god! A Pomeranian, right?”
“How did you know ... almost no-one guesses what he is. Sometimes they even wonder if he’s actually a dog.”
“I know, he kinda looks like ... like a stuffed bear right? I love dogs. Generally not ones that you could fit in a purse, though.” She smiled, but noticed that his eyes were just a bit shinier.
“Do you have one? I mean, did you bring one to LA? Patrick told me you used to foster them...”
“Erm, not at the moment. So where are you staying?”
“Oh, the studio have rented a little house for me, in Burbank. You?”
“Yeah I’m renting there too. All of us actually. On the last record we all lived together but ... it didn’t go so well. Plus, Gerard’s got his family now so....”
“He has?”
“Yeah, a little girl. She’s like, a month old?” She wasn’t sure why it sounded like a question.
“Wow. You guys are all grown up huh?”
“Yeah. Kinda, I suppose.”
They spoke for a while, about nothing in particular, the way you do when you don’t know someone so well. But it was nice to talk to someone she knew, so Victoria was disappointed when she noticed the time.
“Anyway, I’d better get going. I don’t want to upset them already, make them take that nice new house away. Nice to see you again.” She turned to leave.
“Hey, Victoria?”
“Hmm? “
“I’m guessing you have friends in LA and stuff, but if you ever want to hang out or anything, you know where we are.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
***
So, life in LA. She got a cat to keep Gizmo company. She never really got used to having just one pet around. Ursula was fat, with bright blue eyes and silky white fur. Her previous owner had been a 90 year old Jewish man who had spoiled her and fed her caviar as a treat. Victoria tried to put her on a diet, and even got a kitty leash and tried to walk her around the back yard, but Ursula wasn’t having any of it. Instead, she got her a collar with fake diamonds on and started calling her Princess, because she acted like one.
She rented a 1984 Mercedes, a car she had always liked but never bought because they were too unreliable. She’d have it for less than a year, so it didn’t really matter. She bought a Wii and RockBand, because she didn’t know anyone in LA who had one. Except she didn’t know how to connect it to the TV, so it stayed in a box in a corner.
***
Late night on the bus, driving through some unnamed town, almost paralysed with exhaustion from a show, but yet unwilling to actually go to sleep, they would talk about how the movie of their lives would turn out. They talked about what celebrities they would cast themselves as, what they would say to the tabloids when they stepped on the red carpet at the premiere.
They had the first scene planned to down to every detail - the camera would start wide, and pan down the aisle of a classroom, to a young Victoria tapping her foot furiously across the floor, scribbling away at an exam paper even faster. Her classmates would all be slumped over their desks, half-heartedly filling in their answer sheets. She would suddenly thrown down her pencil, get up, and hand the paper to the teacher at the front of the class. The teacher, a short, skinny man wearing a black turtleneck and beret would look down his nose at her and say, ‘Asher, you’ll never make it with this attitude.’
Victoria, on her way out, would stop and turn to him, a devious smile playing across her face. She would say ‘you just watch me.’
The three of them would be lazing outside the door waiting for her, propped against the wall of lockers. At their feet would be their packed bags, and their instruments would be flung over their shoulders. And then they would walk out, ‘Snakes on a Plane’ playing as their backs disappeared out in to the real world.
They never got past that first scene.
***
Victoria quickly fell into a routine. She would get up in the morning, drink a cup of coffee, smoke a cigarette, feed Gizmo and Ursula, and head to the studio. When she went out for her cigarette breaks, she inevitably bumped into one of MCR. She spent most of her time with Jamia and Lyn-Z, who were always hanging around the studio. Lyn-Z poked her in the stomach and told her how skinny she was, compared to her rounded middle, still carrying a few pounds of baby weight; and calling her a child, next to her, the old married lady. Jamia was mostly pleased about having another girl around the place, and the fact that Victoria let her borrow whatever clothes or make-up she wanted.
And of course, with Lyn-Z and Jamia, came Bob. They talked about LA, about how she loved the weather and he hated it, about how Rockband drums compared to real drums. He tried to get her to play with him, but she refused. It was because she thought she sucked, but she didn’t tell him this.
Whenever he was in the same room, Gizmo usually launched himself at Bob, and sprawled across wherever he happened to be sat. Victoria joked that it was his smell. Really it was because Bob had a soft spot for Gizmo, and always paid him attention. Victoria could tell he loved dogs, so wasn’t sure why he didn’t have one, when Frank seemed to have a whole army of them.
***
She couldn’t remember how old she must have been - small enough that her mom was still making her wear dungarees. It was hot and humid, and this was causing the pets to go mad. The dogs and cats were running rings round one another, and even the pig was running round squealing.
Her mom was watching the neighbour’s kids - two boys who were throwing cars at each other, emphasising each throw with a loud screech or shriek, the baby was screaming because no-one was paying her any attention, and her mom was screaming at her dad, for not stopping the baby or the boys screaming. Somewhere the phone was ringing and the neighbours were mowing the lawn. She calmly, quietly, put down her Barbie, walked over to the piano shoved against the corner of the room, and started playing, just a simple set of chords that she’d been told to go home and practice that week. She stuck her tongue out, concentrating as her little fingers went up the keys, down the keys. When she finished playing, everyone was silent.
***
5th August 2009
Late one night, when as usual the AC was out, Gizmo kept crawling on the bed and whining, her new hair extensions itched so bad, and Victoria just couldn’t clear her head long enough to sleep, she found herself on YouTube, watching videos of when the band were first together. She watched one of their first shows, her and Gabe singing an acoustic version of ‘Snakes on a Plane’. She could hardly recognise the girl on the screen in front of her. She was thinner, and her hair looked ridiculous, dyed platinum with dark roots. She bought her purse from some guy on a stall outside the subway, not Marc Jacobs. Looking at her black tassled bag in the corner, they weren’t all that different. But she was so happy, it was like her face was going to split.
She was so skinny because she spent half her time running, to school because she was late, running between tables at lunch, trying to get people to come to their next gig, between two different jobs to save for them to get a van to tour in ... she ran because she was excited, because life offered so many different opportunities. And where was she now, in a big city like LA, smoking on top of the covers with only the cat and dog for company.
She kind of wished Bob was home. She knew he took forever to fall asleep, and would probably send her some YouTube videos on Twitter if she asked. Except he was on a plane to Japan, heading out early for Summer Sonic. Victoria looked over at Gizmo, who had moved, cat-like, to crawl in a ball on top of the TV. She couldn’t work out why he liked it up there so much. He jumped when the phone rang, nearly losing his balance. Victoria managed to pick it up without getting out of bed, twisting her torso towards the floor, using the hand with the cigarette in for balance. It was Jamia.
Jamia was becoming the closest thing she had to a girl friend. She’d just always got on better with guys. It wasn’t like she was a tomboy or anything - she liked make up and skirts and stuff. Victoria thought that Jamia, who worked pretty much exclusively in a Man’s World, was kind of relieved to have some female presence around. For someone else, it might have been overwhelming, to have her show up at 8am to raid your closet. Victoria was glad of the company.
“Hey, are you awake?
“Yeah, where are you?”
“I’m at home. I’m so bored, I can’t sleep and the dogs are driving me mad. I hate this town. You want to go out somewhere?” Victoria looked at the clock - it was almost one, not too late to go out in LA.
“Sure. Where’s Frank?”
“Oh, he’s out with the guys, cos since Bob and Katlyn broke up...”
The room span a bit, and she found herself grabbing at the edge of the duvet to keep herself from falling out. She quickly stubbed out the cigarette in an empty glass, and pulled herself back into bed and an upright position.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah, sorry I dropped the phone. Um, what happened?”
“No idea. You know Bob, he keeps this kind of stuff to himself. I think he’s going to fly out with Frank now. Anyway, I doubt they’ll be home for a few hours. You want to watch a movie?”
She had a teen-like urge to interrogate Jamia for all of the details. But she was talking so fast she didn’t think she’d get to interrupt.
***
September 13th 2009
Bob stopped mid-sentence. “You’re not listening are you?” This was when Victoria had noticed that she had been tapping her nails against the counter, enjoying the ringing noise it made. Bob was staring at her as he emptied a load of coins into his wallet.
“I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“It’s not important ... what’s with you today? You’re somewhere else. Come on, spill.”
Him staring her down didn’t give her much hope of lying. Luckily, the guy behind the counter handed over their coffees, providing a momentary distraction. They were bringing so many back that planning who carried what was a mission in itself.
Something was stopping her telling Bob exactly what was up. Which was strange, considering she didn’t really stop talking at him. She hoped that perhaps he’d settle for a companionable silence as they walked back to the studio. Not unusually for when they went to get coffee, he was in a talkative mood.
“You’re coming to Frank’s tonight, right?” She raised her eyebrow at him. “For poker night?”
“Oh, I don’t play poker.” It was true. “I’m a girl.” Not an excuse she often used, but one that hid excellently that she sucked at card games.
“Come anyway. We’ll have some beers, some guacamole, you can play with the dogs. Put bows in their hair and shit, they won’t mind.” She’d only done it to Gizmo once, for Halloween. “What else are you going to do?” She couldn’t decide if this was him trying to encourage her to come, or a subtle reference to her lack of a social life. And she totally had a social life. Gizmo and Ursula totally counted as friends.
So, she went over after work. She didn’t finish until gone 7 anyway, and it was on the way home. They hadn’t even got around to dealing the cards yet - something about some avocados and one of the dogs. She realised that although she was fast becoming Bob’s coffee buddy, she kind of liked the rest of them too. It was like, although they all had old man tendencies, they could all be kids too. And weren’t kids all of the time. Watching them decide who got to deal kept her amused. After a while though, she found herself tapping her fingernails against the counter, and tapping her foot against her stall. She excused herself to go to the bathroom, quietly sliding into the den and closing the door behind her. She just wanted to see a TV, to turn to MTV without anyone noticing. She just needed to see if anyone was going to turn up. It wasn’t like they were likely to win or anything. Gabe would go, she decided. As Pete Wentz’s date. It was a free party, of course he would go.
A thin sliver of streetlight was coming in through the blinds, and she turned on the TV with the sound down low. The camera panned over the red carpet, Victoria desperately seeking out a head stretching out over everyone else’s. Lady Gaga showed up in some lace thing covering her face. It was outrageous, but she kind of liked it. She almost would have picked something similar herself.
The voice-over was excessively chirpy. “Of course, no members of Cobra Starship here tonight following their sudden split... we will have to wait and see who collects if they win in their nominated category, Best Pop Video, which unusually is the only video nominated that was never actually released ...”
Her heart sunk a little bit, but she didn’t know why. Perhaps it was because she could so clearly imagine how it could have been - co-ordinating their outfits, perhaps performing at the pre-show, filming a special cobra-cam ... it was the kind of event that, for them, they would never forget. She knew they’d never get really big, she was amazed they’d come as far as they had. When Gabe first persuaded her to join the band, it was supposed to be a weekend gig while she finished school. But she sure as hell didn’t mind that they had come so far ... she just wished it hadn’t ended. She quickly turned off the TV, the room turning almost dark again.
Thinking about what could have been left her feeling shaky and cold. A little pug dog, she’d forgotten its name, ran into the den with a green sneaker in its mouth. Bob followed it in, throwing one arm around it belly while he used his other to take the shoe from its mouth. He sat on the couch, securing it tightly to his foot this time. Victoria watched his hands move deftly, tying a double bow.
“Are you ok?” he asked. Up to now she wasn’t sure that he’d noticed her in the dark room.
“Yeah, why?” she asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, like she shouldn’t have been there.
“I don’t know, it’s just weird, you sitting here in the dark. You know there’s beer outside, right? Has someone said something to you? I swear, sometimes they just talk without thinking what they’re saying. Frank especially.”
“No, no, nothing like that. Everything’s fine.”
Bob snorted. “Then what are you doing out here in the dark?”
“I was just, erm.”
“Look, I know it’s the VMAs tonight, and you were nominated. And you’re not yourself so it’s obviously bothering you. And ...I just at wanted to check that you’re ok.”
“I’m ok. I mean, I’m not great, but things could be worse.”
“You wish you were there?”
“Actually, I don’t.”
“Well, if you want to, you know, talk and stuff ... well, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks.”
“Someone has to look out for you right?” She smiled. Some light from the street had escaped through the curtains and was shining on the side of his face, and she noticed the small, round scar on his cheek. She liked scars - they were manly and always had an awesome story behind them. For guys her age, it was normally light sabre battles. He caught her staring at it.
“What?”
“I was just looking at your scar. What did you do?”
“We were doing a video shoot, and I got burned. They had to stick a needle in my face to get rid of the infection.” His slow, lazy drawl didn’t quite match the rush of questions that ran through her. She kind of got the impression that he’d been through this a million times and was bored of it now. She summed it all up into one.
“Why are you such an idiot?” She saw the white flash of his teeth as he laughed in the dark.
“You know, it hasn’t quite been put to me that away before. It’s genetics, I guess.”
“Genetics?”
“Yeah, just born that way.”
The silence was a little too comfortable, and despite the fact that she had enjoyed the last sixty seconds with Bob more than any other time in about a month, she knew she couldn’t go on staring at him all night. “I better go show my face.” Boldened by his speech, she quickly hugged him on her way out, pulling away before he got a chance to put his arms around her too. She could have made this up, but she swore she heard his intake of breath as she pulled their bodies against each other.
Part Two