This is who I really am...
The Real Jordan
I do not own Jordan Catalano or any of the MSCL characters...this is for my own enjoyment, and hopefully yours. As always, I ask that you kindly take a minute and review. BTW, this story will soon be moving over to the M section. I started it here so that it would be easier to find. ~gagirl29
Another city, another show, another night sleeping on the tour bus or a hotel room, that's what I, Jordan Catalano, have to look forward to. Life on the road isn't so bad, not really. I like it this way, no ties, no commitments. Being out here, touring, this is what I love. I'm traveling the country with my two best friends, performing the songs that I wrote, and I have more money than I could ever spend in this lifetime. What more could I want?
I have everything, so why am I not happy? I'm unhappy because, other than my music, everything I touch turns to shit. I have this way about me. I can't stand when things are going good, I just have to go and fuck it up. I end up hurting everyone who cares about me.
I know I'm a selfish bastard. I do what I want and I do what I have to do to get it. I've always been that way. I take and take, but I've never learned how to give back. I mean, I try, I really do. I'm just not that good at it.
It's not as if I had good role models growing up or anything. My mom, the perpetual party girl, took off when I was 7. I guess my dad and I weren't good enough for her or something. I didn't see her much when I was growing up. My dad, a detective for Pittsburgh PD, was never home, so I pretty much raised myself.
It wasn't easy growing up in the house with my dad. I mean, we had money, but there was no love. From the time my mom left, my dad and I didn't get along. It was like he blamed me for her leaving or whatever. It was like he thought I was the reason she wasn't happy.
At first, he just ignored me. I had a string of different babysitters in and out of the house. When I got older, he left me home alone most of the time. When I was 11, I got suspended from school for fighting and he beat the shit out of me. For several years, that's how things were. I'd fuck up and he'd beat me senseless. One day, not long after my fifteenth birthday, I got caught shoplifting some cigarettes and he roughed me up pretty good. After the second punch to the face, I picked up the kitchen chair and threw it at him, breaking his wrist. He didn't touch me again.
From the time I was 15 until I left home at 19, my dad and I were roommates. We both came and went as we pleased. He would leave money for me and I'd run around doing whatever I wanted to. When I was 16, he bought Red for me as a birthday present. I guess he thought if he gave me an old car, something I could fix up and work on, that it would keep my sorry ass out of trouble. And to a certain extent, it did.
When I was 17, I started hanging out with Tino and his crew. Tino is the one who started our first band. Tino, 19 with at juvenile record, got me into all kinds of shit. My old man hated it, so most of the time, I did shit just to piss him off. I started partying and sleeping around, moving from one girl to the next. I could get any girl I wanted.
Hell, I can still get any girl I want. I'm not stupid. I mean, I know I'm easy on the eyes or whatever. All my life, I've had people telling me how handsome I am, how good looking. I see the way people look at me. I know it doesn't hurt to look the way I do. I'm sure it helps to sell records, too. Anyway, I was 17 when I first started seeing Angela. Well, that's when Angela first started seeing me, I guess.
That's the year everything in my life centered around Angela Chase, the girl who pushed and pushed me to be a better person. The girl who made sure I learned to read and helped me to graduate. The girl who drove me crazy all through high school and even after I left Three Rivers. The first girl I actually cared about. The first girl I obsessed over and made a fool of myself for.
Here, I am, all these years later and I find myself still obsessing over Angela Chase. She was my first love and the woman I am still very much in love with. She's my inspiration, my motivation. At one time, everything I did was to please her. Now, everything I do is to piss her off. I can't help it. She knows how to push my buttons and I know how to push hers.
See, Angela just isn't some girl. She's always been the girl for me. Our problem is, we can't be together. I've hurt her and she's hurt me. No matter how hard we try, we keep doing it all over and over again. It's been that way since we were kids. We were together, then we weren't. We'd break up, but not break up. It's all so confusing. I wish things were different. I wish we could be together, but I guess it just isn't meant to be. That's why I'm sitting here, right before I go on stage, arguing with my ex-wife.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Angela! He's 8 years old, how hard can it be discipline him? Why do I always gotta be the one to do it? I'm all the way on the other side of the country!" She does this to me all the time. It's like I'm the only one who can control Jay. She calls and puts him on the phone with me, just so I can tell him to do his homework or keep his ass out of trouble.
"Jordan, he doesn't listen to me. You're the only one he'll listen to. Please, just talk to him." I can tell she's frustrated, but she's his mother. She should be able to get our 8 year old son in line, right?
"Look, Red, I'm about to go on stage. I can't deal with this shit right now." Ending the call, I turn my phone off, tossing it on the dressing room table. Taking one last look in the mirror, I head out the door.
I know she'll be pissed at me for hanging up on her, but so what. Maybe it will do her good to stew for a little while. See, we've been divorced for over 3 years now, but she always uses me to make Jay behave. We argue nonstop because she won't stand up to him. Every single time he gets out of hand, she picks up the phone to call me. I'm beginning to wonder if it's even about Jay anymore. I think it's more about Angela.
Standing on the edge of the stage, Shane and Tommy beside me, I can hear the crowd already going crazy. Jaded, our opening act just finished their set and the lights were down. I love this time, right before we go on. I love the adrenaline rush I get. My heart starts pumping and I feel a high like no drug can give me.
On cue, we walk out together. Shane and Tommy take their places, Shane at his drums, Tommy beside me with his guitar. Standing in front of the microphone, I give a nod and they slowly bring the lights up. "Hello, Las Vegas, we're Residue." From where I'm standing, center stage, I can see every seat in the house. Not that anyone is sitting. Everyone is on their feet. "You know, I had planned to start out with a different song tonight, but it's been a helluva day. I'm in a fighting mood, so we're gonna change it up a little. Who wants to hear 'Attack'?" As the crowd cheers loudly, Shane starts beating out the song.
Taking the mic from the stand, I let the song take me over, shoving thoughts of Angela Chase from my head, at least for a few minutes...
I won't suffer, be broken, get tired, or wasted
Surrender to nothing, or give up what I
Started and stopped it, from end to beginning
A new day is coming, and I am finally free
Run away, run away, I'll attack
Run away, run away, go chase yourself
Run away, run away, now I'll attack
I'll attack, I'll aa-WHOOOAAAAAAAAA
I would have kept you, forever, but we had to sever
It ended for both of us, faster than a
Kill off this thinking, it's starting to sink in
I'm losing control now, and without you I can finally see
Run away, run away, I'll attack
Run away, run away, go chase yourself
Run away, run away, now I'll attack
I'll attack, I'll aa-WHOOOAAAAAAAAA
Your promises, they look like lies
Your honesty, like a back that hides a knife (knife)
I promise you (promise you)
I promise you (promise you)
And I am finally free
Run away, run away, I'll attack
Run away, run away, go chase yourself
Run away, run away, now I'll attack
I'll attack, I'll attack, I will attack
Run away, I'll attack, I will attack
Run away, I'll attack, I will attack
Run away (Run away), I'll attack (I'll attack)
I'll aa-WHOOOAAAAAAAAA
Your promises
(promises, promises)
I promise you
(promise you)
I promise you
(promise you, promise you)
I always tell myself that I'm going to put Angela out of my head when we go on stage. It never ever works. Every damn song I've written in the last 15 years is either about her or for her or has something to do with our times together. Eventually, I'll stop kidding myself and accept that it isn't going to change.
Taking a drink of my water, I pick up my guitar. "So how the fuck are you doing, Vegas? I hope you're ready to rock." Putting the mic in the stand, I slip my guitar strap over my head. "I know you guys want to hear the new shit, but I'm in the mood to play some of our older songs. This next one is off our first album, sing along if you know it." As I start to play the first chords of 'Capricorn', Tommy joins in followed by Shane.
All of our concerts are like this. I set out a play list, we rehearse, and then I change it as we go. At first, Tommy and Shane would bitch and bitch about it. After all these years, it's kind of a joke between us now. They know me, they get it. We end up playing whatever songs I'm in the mood for. It works for us.
Going from one song to another, the crowd is pretty pumped. I feed off the energy of the fans, so I love to get them going. I turn to Shane and give him the cue to start into 'Battle of One'. I love this song and it's always so fun to play. It gets the crowd on their feet and I get to scream a lot. Jumping around the stage, I get to work out all the anger and frustration I have built up.
Seeing that Shane and Tommy need a break, I work through my acoustic set. As much as I enjoy performing with the guys, I also get off on singing with just my guitar and all the fans. It's a time when I can just be me. It doesn't matter if I fuck up, or forget the lyrics. It doesn't matter if I get angry and scream or get emotional and sing my heart out. It's all me.
As I wrap up, the guys come back out. Playing through the last set, I can feel my body coming down a little. After 2 hours of screaming and running around, I'm starting to get tired. My clothes, soaked through with sweat, are starting to stick to me.
Wrapping up our last song, I step up to the mic. "Thank you so much for coming out tonight. I hope you've enjoyed the show. You've been fucking awesome! We're Residue. Good night!"
As the three of us are walking back stage together, Shane and Tommy are discussing what they plan to do for the night. After we finish a show, we always head back to the dressing room, first to shower and change, then we go our separate ways. Not being one for the night club scene, I usually hole up in my hotel room or on the bus. Shane and Tommy like to hit the town. Whereever we are, they like to go out and explore the night life.
"Hey, Catalano, why don't you come out with us tonight? It'll be good for you." Shane, being my oldest friend, can always tell when something is bothering me.
"Nah, Shane, I don't think so. I gotta call Jay. He's being a little shit again." I know I shouldn't, but he's my son. No matter what me and Angela do or say to each other, he still needs to respect her. At least his mom is there for him. And she loves him.
Shane, knowing me as he does, knows not to push when I've made up my mind. He and Tommy understand me better than anyone else, that's why we all work so well together. They're there when I need them and the leave me the hell alone when I don't.
Showered and changed, we all get in the limo. Swinging by the hotel, the guys drop me out before heading to the strip. As I take the elevator to our floor, I turn my phone back on. Once I get inside the room, I dial out Angela's number.
Answering on the third ring, she sounds pissed. "What the fuck, Jordan? Don't hang up on me like that! I don't know why I bother to call you, anyway."
Laughing at her always seems to piss her off more, so I don't even try to stifle it. "Red, I know why you call me. You just have to figure it out for yourself. Where's my son? Is he still up?"
"Jordan, do you know what time it is? Do you think I'd let him stay up this late on a school night?" Looking at the clock, I'm surprised to see that it's midnight. I must have really gotten carried away tonight. If it's midnight in Vegas, it's 3 am in Pennsylvania.
"Damn, it is late, isn't it? What are you doing up? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" She really hates it when I'm a smart ass. I know I'm the one that called her, most likely waking her up, but I love it when she gets fired up.
"Seriously, Jordan? You called me." I can hear her moving around on the bed, probably sitting up.
"What? You could have been up. Maybe Matt decided to spend the night. How the hell do I know?" Matt, Angela's on again off again boyfriend, was a touchy subject.
"Are you asking me if he's here? Because if you are, it's none of your damn business." I can't help but chuckle because I know she wouldn't let Matt stay over. That's one of the reasons they're on again off again. I don't like to think about her being with someone else, but it gives me a little satisfaction knowing she won't let him spend the night, especially since she's still sleeping in our bed.
"So, that's a no?" As I'm talking to her, I kick my shoes off and strip down to my boxers. Climbing in the bed, I settle back against the pillows and pull the covers up over my chest.
"If you have to know, I broke up with Matt. For good this time. I'm tired of him playing stupid games with me. We were never that serious, anyway." Now I can hear her TV on in the background.
Smiling to myself, I can't help but ask, "Games? What kind of games?"
"I'm sick and tired of having to deal with him being jealous. I mean, I won't have him tell me who I can talk to, or who I can see. I kinda snapped when I caught him going through my cell phone." I can hear the cabinet door close, and then the water running, so I assume she's getting herself a glass of water.
"He was going through your phone? That's really fucked up. It's none of his business who you're talking to. It's not like you're seeing someone else, is it?" Holding my breath, I wait for her to tell me.
"Come on, Jordan. You already know the answer to that. No, I'm not seeing anyone else." I can picture her, sitting in bed, tucking her hair behind her ear.
"Well, who were you talking to that he was so jealous over?" I can't help but yawn. I don't know how much longer I can stay awake, but I don't want to hang up, either.
She said it so softly, I barely heard her. Wanting to make sure I heard her, I ask her to say it again. "You, ok? He was, is, jealous of you. We had a really big fight. Bigger than any we've had before. And trust me, we've fought plenty." Taking a deep breath, maybe so that she can work up the courage to continue, she says, "He's always been jealous of my relationship with you. He wanted me to like stop talking to you altogether. I tried to explain to him that we have a past together, that we share a child, but he doesn't understand."
"I hope you told him to go fuck himself." I've never liked Matt. Not just because he was with Angela, either. I was never jealous of him or anything. Well, maybe a little, but we aren't together anymore. I do want her to be happy. I can't explain it, really. There was just something about him that rubbed me the wrong way.
"Oh, yeah. That and then some. We were going to Sharon and Brian's house for dinner a few nights ago and I went in to the bathroom to fix my makeup. I found him going through my phone when I came out. He had went in my purse and got it out. Instead of apologizing or even being embarrassed at being caught, he started bitching at me."
Pulling myself up in the bed, so that I don't give in to sleep, I ask her the one question I already know the answer to. "What was in your phone that set him off?"
"I don't know, Jordan. Maybe it was all the 3 am phone calls where we talk into the morning. Maybe it was the text messages you send me. You know, when you've been drinking. The ones where you tell me you love me and can't live without me. Or maybe it's the ones where you tell me what you want to do to me the next time we're in the same time zone. Or maybe it was all of the above." I can close my eyes and see her, sitting there, her knees pulled up in front of her, worrying the edge of her oversized tshirt.
Running my hand through my hair, this habit I have when I get nervous, I struggle to find the right words to say. None of it is a lie. I do love her. And I can't imagine what my life would be like without her in it. See, that's what I mean when I say we're together, even when we're not. She's my best friend, just like Shane and Tommy are, but with her it's different. Even though we're divorced and we're not together, we still have this connection.
"I'm sorry, babe. I'm sorry that I came between you. I'm sorry that he didn't trust you like he should have. I'm sorry that I'm such a selfish asshole that I don't stop to think before I do shit." Sitting now, with my knees pulled up in front of me, much how I imagined her, I lay my head on my knees.
"Jordan, don't apologize. This is entirely my fault. I should have deleted the text messages or told you to stop. Or maybe I should have quit answering my phone at 3 am. Or maybe I wanted something like this to happen so that I didn't have to be the one to break up with him. There's a hundred different things I probably could have done to make it different, but I didn't."
"Well, I am sorry. All I want is for you to be happy." Sighing, I slide back down in the bed. "See, I told you I'm no good for you. You should tell me to fuck off."
"You know I would never do that. No matter what happens between us, we'll always have Jay to think about. And I guess I'm not ready to be done with you." I can hear the longing in her voice, even when she's mad at me, it's still there.
I can feel myself getting sleepy. Knowing I should hang up, but not doing it. I lay there with my phone to my ear, listening to her breathe. All I want right at this moment is to be beside her, holding her in my arms listening to her breathing relax into sleep. If I can't have that, then this is the next best thing.
After several minutes of neither of us talking, I turn over on my side. "Angela, you awake?"
I hear a long sigh, then, "Yeah, Jordan, I'm here."
"Baby, I'm falling asleep. I'm gonna hang up. I'll call Jay in the morning, before he goes to school, ok?" Rubbing my eyes, I take a deep breath. "And, Red?"
"Jordan, please don't say it. I know you do, and I do, too. I just don't think I could take it if you said the words." It's funny, this connection we have. She knows what I'm thinking. She knows what I'm feeling, without me even saying a word.
"Always, Red. Good night." Ending the call, I throw my phone on the bed beside me. Pulling the covers over my head, I let sleep take over.
Oops...I knew I forgot something! All the songs mentioned in this chapter do belong to me because Jared Leto said so, but in reality...they belong to 30STM. THANKS!