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It’s weird to be back here and feel like I don’t fit in anymore and to not miss it. And I don’t miss my old life. To be honest, I don’t even know what kind of life I’m looking for now; I just know this isn’t it. It felt like I was constantly chasing happiness, but it always fell just out of my reach.
“Okay, thank you, Brett,” Ed the MC says, and Brett exits the makeshift stage to cheers from the growing crowd. “Next up we have Ryan, singing ‘Sweet Caroline.’”
Ryan gets up to sing, and it’s obvious within seconds that he knows how to work a crowd. He’s got us all yelling the words right away, including all the extra additions that have been added over time.
Lucy is joining in, laughing and singing along. Have we actually found something the Price children don’t become ridiculously competitive over?
My name is called next, and I get out of my seat with cheers from Lucy, Ryan, and Morgan. In my haste to get to the makeshift stage so I can get this over with, I run into someone.
“Sorry,” I say, trying to quickly move around the woman. She looks vaguely familiar—long dark hair, high cheekbones, and beautiful eyes framed by long dark lashes.
“Graham?” she asks, giving me the smile of familiarity.
“Yeah,” I say, racking my brain trying to figure out how I know her.
She points to herself. “Jordan,” she says, giving me a chagrined look. Even in this dim lighting I can see the hurt in her eyes as I try to recall how we’ve met.
“Right, of course,” I say, recognition dawning, even though the details are blurred around the edges. It was one of the last nights I hung out here. Jordan and I flirting ... dancing to a song on the jukebox ... a tab full of drinks ... waking up in a place I didn’t recognize.
My stomach drops. Old me was such a jackass. This woman standing in front of me deserves so much more than the person I was. She doesn’t deserve a guy who promises to call and never does. Not a detail I remember specifically, just something I know I did ... a lot. In my attempt to keep myself from getting hurt, I left a lot of innocent people in my wake.
“Get up here, Graham,” Ed says over the speakers, and I look up to see him waving me over to sing my song. I’m holding up the show. Singing is kind of the last thing I want to do right now. I want to slink out of this place and go home to my empty house by myself. It’s what I deserve.
“Better go,” Jordan says, putting a hand on my arm. She leans in so her lips are right by my ear. “Come find me after.”
I nod, knowing full well I won’t. I want to tell her I’m sorry, that she deserves so much more than the kind of guy I’m trying so hard not to be. Jordan’s worthy of a man who calls when he says he will, who’ll cherish the time he has with her. Maybe that’s not what she’s looking for right now, but it’s what she deserves. I’m sorry I wasn’t that kind of guy. I don’t even know if I’m that kind of man now. I hope I can be someday.
I walk over to the stage, feeling like I should maybe bow out of this one. I’m not in the mood to sing anything right now. My stomach turns when Ed hands me the microphone.
The music starts, and I have a choice right now. I could make a run for it. Just hand the mic back and leave. Or I can get through it. I’m not trying to win this thing, not with all the ghosts of past Graham staring back at me. Lucy can totally have this one.
I look to her then, the one representation of the person I’m trying to be. Lucy. My friend. Someone who’s become so important to me in a short amount of time, which I didn’t know was possible. In her I can see the changes I’ve made. I can see New Graham when I look at Lucy.
When our eyes catch and she gives me a devious smile, lifting her chin as she runs the back of her thumb across her throat, ever the competitor, I smile. And just like that, with one look from Lucy, I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to bring my A game.
Old me would have never picked the song I’m about to do, but when the lyrics come up on the screen in front of me, I give it my all as I start singing “Look What You Made Me Do” by Taylor Swift.
Lucy
Tuesday, January 22, 6:51 p.m.
From GothamGuardian5 to PlainJane2:
In the same vein as our last conversation, have you ever had to hide your feelings for someone? If so, how did you do it?
From PlainJane2 to GothamGuardian5:
Oh, that’s easy. I just gaslight myself into thinking I never liked them in the first place.
From GothamGuardian5 to PlainJane2:
Does that work?
From PlainJane2 to GothamGuardian5:
It definitely does not. 0/10 don’t recommend.
I SHAKE MY HEAD AT the stage as I watch Graham in jeans and a black button-up shirt sing the Taylor Swift song, and not all that badly either. That little freaking cheater.
