Promises
Tours across Canada. Fun? Yeah, sure. Exciting? Duh. Exhausting? Big, fat yes. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life, except that time I stayed up all night on the phone with Ellie cause her dad died and her mom was at it again. It's like being a zombie, which isn't a nice feeling. I need to drink at least four cups of coffee to get me psyched enough to go out on stage. A little coke rush helps too, but that's another story.
I've been at it for a month, touring around the Great North with my band, playing shows every night. I'm in a particularly nasty mood because the next three shows are in Toronto. Yeah, Toronto, Ontario, Canada, my old home. I'm not exactly thrilled to see any of my old peers. Maybe none of them will come to the show. Actually, they probably won't. I lost touch with all of them after the cocaine incident, especially Ellie. And that was thirteen years ago. Yes, thirteen. Yep, I'm thirty two now, living the rock star life, still single. Surprised, eh? Never thought Craig would make it big? Trust me, I didn't think so either.
I didn't mean to stop talking to them. I just got so busy. And the one person who I really wanted to talk to --yeah, that red head-- wouldn't give me the time of day. So it wasn't really my fault. Being Craig Manning can get pretty tricky, believe it or not. Recording deals, first, second, third albums. Opening fan mail (All of it. You never know. Might be something important.), sleeping in expensive hotel rooms, late night parties. Yeah, fun, fun. Actually, parties where I don't know anyone are awkward, especially when everyone around you is getting drunk. Screaming girls are great, but sometimes quiet would be nice. All of it gets old after a while. But once you're famous, you can't go back, right?
So anyway, we pull off the road into the civic center parking lot, and it's like I'm reliving it all over again. I used to go to this civic center, to see concerts just like mine. Now I'm up on stage performing instead of standing in the crowd. It's kinda weird. Just goes to show how weird life can be, I guess.
"Hey, Craig? You up for this?" my lead bass and back up vocals, Jason, asks. I find it funny how he actually looks a little like Marco. I think they're both Italian or something. Cody, guitar and back up vocals, it the complete opposite of Jimmy. He also can walk. The only thing that my drummer, Kaycee, and Ellie have in common is that they're both female and they both have/had pink hair. Okay, so Kaycee is blond with black and pink streaks, and Ellie's hair was only pink (and sometimes black) in grade 9, but that still counts, right?
"Yeah, I'm okay. Toronto just sucks."
"Dude, you grew up here, and it sucks?"
"Let's just say I had some issues… with people back here. Not looking forward to all the 'fond' memories."
"Whatever."
I sip my third coffee while unpacking my guitar. I always wondered what this backstage looked like. How someday, maybe I'd be up here, performing sound checks and sipping my coffee with hot girls. This backstage is just like the rest, and it's not that exciting. Just me, my band, security guards, coffee, and no hot girls. Well, Kaycee's kinda cute, but she's like my sister. Besides, Cody and her have this weird thing going on. No need to get in the way.
"Fifteen minutes to show, people!" some guy shouts, with a headset and clipboard. He's freaking out, like all the other dudes like him I've seen this past month. Ready for anything, earthquake, avalanche, explosion, terrorist attack, mutant bunnies. You name it, I bet he's got a plan. The most paranoid guy in the world, convinced something will go wrong.
I can hear the faint roar of fans coming from somewhere around me, and I smile as I tune my guitar. It's such a rush, almost as great as a cocaine rush. Yeah, you got it, rehab did no good. I tried, honestly, I did. But, hey. I'm an addict. And I just can't shake it.
Ellie's an addict too. A masochist. Addicted to pain. Addicted to cutting. That's why she never gave up on me. She liked the pain, liked that I hurt her (well, not exactly, but I bet it didn't bother her as much as some girls). A sickening addiction, actually. I feel bad for her. But this isn't the time to be thinking about Ellie Nash. I've got a show to do, fans to please. A guitar to tune.
I used to get so sick of the pain. I just wanted to mash it up into a big ball and throw it to somebody else. Let it be their problem for once. But then I learned that the pain would always be there. It would never go away. It just couldn't hurt me, unless I let it. If I stayed strong, had high hopes, it couldn't touch me. I was invincible. Pretty cool, right? Yeah. Except staying invincible all the time is pretty hard to do. Impossible, actually. And so there it goes, again.
Kaycee's already out on her drums, throwing out beats and having the crowd mimic her with claps. Jason will join in soon, and then Cody. Then I'll walk out, and the screaming will really start to happen. We'll play the show, stop for a few autographs, and it'll be over. Off to a different show, different people, same routine.
Why is that, anyway? Why do we live our lives in a pattern? Just repeating it over an over? How come I've been the same stupid coke addict rock star for thirteen years? How come I never got married, had kids? Why was I always so afraid to be persistent? Bug Ellie so much that she had to answer my phone calls, respond to my emails?
"And now, please welcome to the stage… Craig Manning!!!"
Just why is that, huh? And how come I've got no fucking idea?
I
The show goes according to plan. I don't get hit in the head with a shoe, a speaker doesn't explode. No evil villain shows up to steal everyone's eyebrows or something. Toronto actually doesn't seem so horrible anymore. It feels like it'll be okay, as soon as I can get back on the tour bus and collapse on my bed.
I sit at a table, signing autographs for all ages. I've got some fans as young as six, old as seventy. I've signed everything, too. Shirts, heads, water skis. I even signed a girl's bra once, which was a little awkward. But, hey. By signing it I probably just made their week, maybe their month. So why not?
I glance casually at the girl who steps in front of me. She's wearing a bunch of studded bracelets and a gray AC DC hoodie. Her hair is up in a side ponytail, and she's smiling at me with these perfect teeth, like I'm God or something. Her smile reminds me of someone, but I can't figure it out. She hastily pushes at me a picture of me from high school in my garage, holding my guitar. I wonder where she got this picture. Probably off the internet. You wouldn't believe the stuff of mine I've seen on the world wide web. I think some of it might actually be mine, too.
Oh yeah, she's got fiery red hair. So that just sends me for a complete loop.
"Hi. You can make it out to Holly Nash," she says, "I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. Amber's gonna be so jealous."
Hold it a sec. Nash? As in, Ellie Nash? As in, the love of my life Nash (well, not my whole life, but about fifteen years worth)? You've got to be kidding me!
"Don't you love the picture? My mom gave it to me. I dunno where she got it…"
So I'm just sitting there, holding the Sharpie numbly, staring at this Holly girl. Who I think is Ellie Nash's daughter. Wait, since when does she have a daughter? Since when is she married?!
"By any chance, is your mom Ellie Nash?" I ask cautiously. I don't want this girl to think I'm a stalker or anything. I've gotten that before. It was oh so not fun.
"Yeah, how'd ya know?"
"I think I used to know her. A long time ago. Went to school with her."
"That's cool," she says, and I'm glad she's not screaming, like any other girl would. She must be Ellie's daughter.
"Who's your dad?"
"I dunno. Everyone thought it was this Sean dude, but it's not. And I'm glad about that. He married this total blond nutcase. My mom just says she has 'control issues', but whatever. I still say we should call the cops when they visit."
So she's got no dad? It wasn't like Ellie to just have sex with anybody. Especially if they were going to leave her. I just can't see Ellie ever doing that. It'd be different if it was a guy she knew, a guy she trusted. Like Sean or Jesse or…
Or me. But she doesn't trust me anymore. She hasn't forever. And I never had sex with Ellie. She'd never let me in a million years. Besides, I'd never do that to her, unless-
Unless I was a high, idiotic, coke addict who knew he'd done something wrong, but couldn't process it because of the drugs. And who knew he really loved this girl, but she was mad at him. Who had just embarrassed himself in front of Taking Back Sunday with a coke nosebleed, not to mention a bunch of other people too. And who knew he'd probably be leaving in the morning, so he wanted to try to make the best of the night.
What the hell?! Just what the fucking hell?!
"This might sound weird, but how old are you?" I ask, and swallow hard. She sort of eyes me for a second, and then shrugs.
"Thirteen."
Now I know who her smile reminds me of. Me. She's my baby, and she's got my smile.
Holy shit. I'm a dad. And Ellie never told me? She just let me bound off into fame, to stay up all night and get high? While I had a baby back home? While I was a dad and didn't even know it? Well, she was probably mad at me. Mad at me for ruining her life. Mad at herself for letting me get anywhere near her when I was high, especially locked in my room. Mad that her whole future was wiped out, clean off the board.
Quickly, I sign the picture Holly gave me and hand it back to her. I remember that picture now. It was during senior year. Ellie and I were in the garage practicing, and she found my old camera with some leftover film. We goofed off, took a bunch of crazy pictures. And I developed them for her and gave them to her as a present. And she still has them.
"Thanks," Holly says, "I'll tell my mom that you know her. Maybe she'll remember you. Or maybe she never told me cause she figured I'd go crazy. She was right, anyway."
Wrong. She never told you about me cause I'm your dad. Miss. Nash can be very good at keeping secrets when she wants to.
The line moves along, and Holly is gone from my sight. I wish I could've taken a picture or something, study it, see which of her is like me and which is Ellie. But then I would've really freaked her out. I've already got enough reasons to get put in jail, thank you very much. Don't need anymore.
By the time everyone's left and we're back on the bus, it's almost midnight. I dig out my cell phone and go sit outside in the wet parking lot. Maybe her number's still the same. Maybe she's kept her phone all this time. Maybe she'll pick up for me, just this once. Maybe, maybe…
I listen as the phone rings at least five times. It clicks, and I hear someone breathe. I bet I'm in her contacts still, too. So no surprise. We both know who we're talking to, what we're dealing with.
"I'm sorry about waking you up. But I had to talk to you."
"What do you want?" she asks groggily. I wish I was sleeping instead of sitting out in the cold. Instead of itching to go get a mirror and some white powder. But that's life.
"Just checking up on you. See how things are going. Anything you want to tell me?"
"It's been thirteen years, Craig. What's there to talk about?"
"Oh, I dunno. Maybe that I'm a dad. Maybe that we have a daughter named Holly Nash, and she's got my smile."
There's silence on the other end, except for her breathing. She sighs, and I can just picture her face. Frowning, maybe a little surprised, too. Mad as hell at the rockstar who woke her up, and who's now talking about her daughter, "How'd you know?"
"She came to the concert tonight. I recognized her, and the name. Why'd you never tell me?"
"Didn't think you could be bothered. A rock star's a full time job, you know. Kinda like being a single mom."
"I would've come back for you," I say, watching the flickering street light at the other end of the parking lot, "Didn't you know that?"
"No, I really didn't, Craig! How was I suppose to? And… I didn't want to take it away from you. You always wanted to make it big. I didn't want to be the one to hold you back."
"You're more important than fame, El. You always have been. I only left in the first place because you told me to. If you didn't, I probably would've gone to U of T with the rest of you. All that ever really mattered to me… was you. I could just never let myself… accept it, I guess. It seemed like… I'd always worked so hard for Manny that I couldn't just let her go. But you were always more important to me."
"Craig, are you high?!" she asks, and I can hear a door shut in the background. Someone is kicking off their shoes, and stomping around the room like it's daylight or something.
"Mom? Who're you talking to?" it's Holly, her voice faint in the background. She must've just got back from my concert.
"Just Marco."
"At midnight?"
"Yeah. Shouldn't you go to bed?"
"Whatever. You guys are such freaks. Tell him I said hi."
The footsteps fade away.
"Holly says hi, 'Marco'," she says, a tint of happiness coming to her voice. But she's still angry, sad, whatever.
"I'm sure Marco says hi back. But Marco's probably sleeping," I start to laugh, but then grow silent, picturing Holly's face.
"She's got your hair."
"She's got your voice."
"My voice? Ellie, she's a girl."
"I mean she can sing, bozo."
"Right."
We're both silent. I lean against the bus, staring at the highway in front of me. There are cars driving, even at this hour. Weird, huh? There's this tapping noise on Ellie's end. She must be hitting something. Probably a picture of me.
"Are you high?" she asks again, and I wonder why she'd like to know.
"Not right now."
"So you're still an addict?"
I sigh, "It's not that simple. You know that."
"Craig!" she shouts, sounding disappointed.
"Hey! Last time I checked, you were still an addict, too!"
"That's different."
"No, it's not. It's the same thing."
"Okay," she says. I guess she just doesn't feel like arguing. Or maybe she thinks I'm right. Or maybe I am right. You never know. There's a first time for everything.
"Do you still cut?"
"Of course not! I'm a mom now! What a great example for my daughter, huh? Whenever it gets to be too much you can just make yourself bleed? Right. Why would you even ask that?"
"You asked me if I was still on coke," I say, and pick at a loose string in my shirt, "Do you still think about it?"
"Sometimes," she sighs, and I can hear her moving around, "But it's not like I want to do it anymore or anything. It's just always going to be a part of my life."
"I know what you mean."
"Craig. Coke can kill you."
"So can cutting."
"I don't cut anymore. You're still on coke."
"Okay, El. I get it."
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" she sighs, changing the subject quickly.
"What? You don't want me to be part of my daughter's life?"
"Craig, you hurt me. You hurt me so much I still can't think about it. And now you just want to be a part of our lives when you're an addict rockstar?"
"To put it simply, yeah."
"You can't. I haven't told her anything. I couldn't."
"I noticed. Apparently, she doesn't like Emma much."
She laughs into the phone, and I smile. It's almost like old times. Before I left for Vancouver, and before she went on though life without me. When we took pictures in my garage and played pinball together. Before we, before I, ruined everything. Except the big difference is that we're both alone and talking on the phone at midnight. Okay, scratch that, we've stayed up all night on the phone before. So I guess the big difference is that we're both alone. As in, away from each other.
"I just can't do this right now…"
"Okay, if not right now, when? Are you just going to keep making excuses because you still won't trust people?"
"Why should I trust you? You got me pregnant, Craig! I'm not like Manny, I'm not going to pretend that everything's okay just so you won't feel bad. You deserve to feel bad! I threw my entire life away for Holly and for you! I was going to be a journalist, write stories, be somebody! And now… I can't even say that I'm a college graduate. I've got nothing."
"Except Holly. And me. El, you really call that nothing?"
"No… but-"
"So why didn't you just get an abortion, or give her away?"
"You honestly think I would do that?! No matter how much I wish that I could still be everything I wanted to be, there isn't a second that I regret keeping her. I don't want Holly to have a mom like I did."
"She's kinda got the dad, though, doesn't she?"
"Yeah… guess so," Ellie says, and laughs slightly.
"I'm not the same guy anymore, El," I say, and then realize what I said, "Okay, not completely different, but nobody's perfect. I promise, I'll try to make it work this time. I'm not going to leave again."
"Aw, but isn't the fourth time the charm?" she laughs, but the laughter quickly fades, "Craig… how am I suppose to know that this isn't just another one of your famous lies? The kind you always tell when you're desperate for attention or drugs or whatever?"
"I don't know. I guess… you'll just have to try to trust me. And we'll wait and see what happens."
There's silence on the other end of the phone, and I'm not sure if that's good or bad. You never know with Ellie.
"You've got to listen to me, Craig, okay? You've made promises to me before. You promised that you'd go to rehab, promised that you wouldn't leave me… I just don't want you to make any promises that you won't keep."
"I know I've screwed up. So many times… but I'm not lying this time. We're going to make this work. I won't leave you. I really promise."
I stare at the black pavement beneath my feet, and the flickering streetlights and random cars passing by. I know that promises are something that I've been known for breaking. But I'm not stupid (despite popular belief). I know when it's my last chance, and when it has to count.
"Do you have plans for tomorrow?"
"No."
She sighs into the phone.
"Come over in the morning. We've got a lot to talk about."
Maybe things will be okay. Maybe for once in my life, I'll get something right. I'll get a second chance, and this time I won't screw it up. I can't. If I do, then life's not worth it. Not if you're always going to screw up. So it's time to start trying, and to start making promises that I'll keep.
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