I stop pacing, slumping as I take a seat on the couch. Not saying a word, I furiously run both of my hands through my hair, tugging at the ends. I fucking hate feeling this way.
And I don’t know how to make it stop.
Talking to Kate about my fears is likely to send her spiraling, which is the last thing she needs after all the recent drama. Meanwhile, I’m expected to finish up an album that is solely about her. Every single song. Telling the story of how she’s the love of my life when I can’t stop fretting about the potential of losing her due to my career. It’s fucking killing me.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or should I guess?”
I glare at Jason, wishing he would leave the fucking room. He won’t budge until he’s satisfied I’ll finish the album on time. It always comes down to work for him. He can’t relate to what I’m going through. The hell I’m putting myself through.
“Looks like I’m guessing. Won’t take more than one. Whatever this is”—he gestures at me—“is clearly about Kate. Did the two of you break up again? Because I’m going to need Anna, Max, and a shit ton of whiskey if that’s what happened.”
“No. We didn’t break up. Why the fuck would you think that?” I yell.
“Calm down. It’s an honest question, given your behavior. We all remember how on edge you were when it happened last time, and you’re acting eerily similarly.”
“We. Did. Not. Break. Up.”
“Okay. But this is clearly about Kate. What happened?” he asks, walking across the room and pulling up a chair, so he’s sitting in front of me.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter, covering my face with my hands as I lean forward with my elbows on my knees.
“Tough shit. You’re costing the labels thousands of dollars an hour, so you don’t have the luxury of keeping this one to yourself. Start. Talking,” he demands.
I glare at him one more time before sighing. “All of the attention is wearing on Kate. It’s starting to impact her career.” My shoulders fall. “I’m worried it’s going to be too much for her.”
Jason clenches his jaw, not responding immediately but keeping his focus on me. “If you want someone to give you a pep talk about your relationship, you need to call Anna or Max.” He adjusts in the chair, crossing his leg over his knee. “If Kate can’t handle the fame that comes with dating you, then I hate to say it, but she’s not the right person for you.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I shout, furious he would make such a comment.
“I’m being pragmatic. You can’t change who you are and what you do for a living. And you’ve worked too fucking hard to get to this point in your career to let your personal life derail you,” he responds calmly, completely out of character. “Look at the facts. You’re not acting like yourself, and everyone has noticed. You’re significantly behind on the album, which is the first time that’s ever happened. And while the songs on this album are your best work ever, you’re too fucking emotional to record them.”
“What do you expect? I’m terrified she’s going to leave me. Not because she doesn’t love me, but because I’ve pulled her into a world that she wants no part of.”
“You need to get your shit together. Finish this album, so the label leaves me the fuck alone about it. And then figure out whatthe hell is going on with you and Kate.” He crosses his arms with a serious look on his face. “She’s a great woman, but you can’t push this life on her if it’s not something she wants and can handle. It will only make you both miserable. I’ve seen it too many times in the past, and I don’t want that for you.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks because, as much as I hate what he’s saying, I know he’s right. I can do as much as possible to help Kate adjust to being in the public eye, but I can’t make her okay with living it. She has to make that choice for herself, knowing it will impact her day-to-day for the rest of her life. This is one of the prices of fame that no one warns you about.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I focus on my breathing until it returns to normal, pushing down all my emotions. I have to compartmentalize my relationship fears from my work to ensure this album gets finished. Bury myself in work and remain emotionally numb until it’s all done. Not physically seeing Kate for the next week should make that easier.
I stand up, cracking my neck and shaking out my arms. “Get the team back in here. I’m ready to record.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Jason exclaims, getting up and patting me on the shoulder. “Focus on the work. It’s what you do best.”
The next week is a complete blur, filled with late nights in the studio and on the road. It’s been nearly impossible to talk to Kate, given our opposite schedules. It doesn’t help that I’m in my lockdown professional mode, when I don’t do anything but work. Barely remembering to eat. If Max didn’t put food in front of me multiple times a day, I likely wouldn’t.
After finishing up another late night at the studio, I collapse on my bed at home at 7 a.m. and give Kate a quick call. Thankfully, her day is getting started, so we can hopefully talk for a few minutes. I’d love to see her face, but she’ll worry if she sees me this exhausted. No filter can cover up the bags under my eyes.
The phone rings and rings until it goes straight to voicemail.
Damn it. I really wanted to chat with her. I cover my eyes with my arm, exhaling deeply as I contemplate whether it’s worth changing into something more comfortable to sleep in when my phone dings.
Kate
In a meeting already. Late night at the studio?
Jake
Yeah. We’re almost done. Should be able to finish it up before we go on the road this weekend.
