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She clicks on the images tab and slowly scrolls down. Lines and lines of photos of him with the band, by himself, fully dressed, with no shirt on, there are so many of them, and in each one he looks like the guy she was with an hour ago. There’s no fancy camera tricks, it’s just him. She feels like such an idiot for not seeing what was right in front of her.
She moves away from the photos and goes back to the search results. Apart from lists of their songs and albums, there are a lot of pages detailing what happened to him recently. The fact he’s a celebrity is hard enough to assimilate, but it’s his time in rehab that she’s struggling with the most. Telling her he wasn’t well for a while is a bit of an understatement.
According to one news website, he got back from a few months on the road with the band, spent Christmas with his family then disappeared. The second leg of their tour due to start in February was cancelled and that was it until he was reportedly released from rehab in May.
From what she can see he hasn’t made a statement about what happened to him so the speculation is rife. There are reports of the pressure of touring getting to him. Other reports blame excessive partying. You name it, someone has mentioned it as a reason he found himself in rehab.
Chloe stares at the words on the screen. They’re talking about Tate. She can’t get it straight in her head.
Her focus drifts to a photo of Tate with a stunning blonde woman by his side. Just another one of his many ex-girlfriends. This one in particular had taken the break-up badly. She skims through the latest article and can’t help but take an instant dislike to her.
Astrid had dated him briefly until he broke things off citing ‘personality clashes’ as the reason for the split. Astrid remained silent on the break-up until just before Tate was released from rehab. Then, from what Chloe can see, she had been quite vocal about his issues. Her view was that Tate had been so deep into drink and drugs she could no longer be with him. He refused to admit he had a problem, so she had no choice but to call it a day on their relationship even though he begged her to stay with him.
How helpful of her to throw dirt at someone trying to deal with what he was dealing with.
She collapses back in the chair and stares at the screen. Is that why he gets so upset on the beach every morning? Is it to do with what happened with his overdose? Was it these hurtful comments from people who were quick to walk over his name if it meant gaining a little of the spotlight for themselves? Was it something else that was getting to him? Having his career and his life put under the spotlight was no doubt extremely hard to deal with. Especially if he is just out of rehab.
She glances back at the news article and struggles to match that person with the Tate she thought she had gotten to know a little over the last week. Why didn’t he tell her the truth? She wouldn’t have expected him to tell her about his ordeal, but who he really is would have been a start. Especially before what happened in the summer house.
Why did she even let that happen? She got carried away in the moment and, as incredible as it had been, the memory is tainted by what happened after. As soon as he kissed her she knew she wanted him. It was impossible not to. The way he looked at her. They way her touched her. She couldn’t get enough.
Before she can stop her finger, it moves the curser over to the video tab and clicks on it. She shakes her head as she reads the names of the songs over each video. She knows most of them which just makes not recognising him even more embarrassing. In her defence, she can’t remember ever looking at the videos. She knows she’s seen him on TV a few times, and she knows she’s heard their songs, but didn’t link the two. If she did, she probably would have known who he was that first day. She cringes when she thinks about how that first conversation would have played out if she knew who she was actually talking to.
She randomly picks one of his music videos and hits the play icon. The music begins and she slowly pulls the laptop closer to her as Tate appears and sings. His voice is incredible, and she quickly gets drawn into the song and the visuals.
Seeing the performer version of Tate is so strange. Like with the photos, he looks and moves like the Tate she knows, but there’s something so different about seeing him like this. In the next shot he’s with the rest of the band playing a guitar. Chloe squirms in her seat as the image hits her where it has no right to hit.
She exits that video and tries the next one. This one’s even worse but for very different reasons. There’s a half-naked woman all over a half-naked Tate. No thank you.
Chloe curses and leaves her imagination to come up with all sorts of unhelpful images of how that plays out in the video.
In the next one he’s fully dressed and it’s just him and the band. No dressed, half-naked, or fully naked women to be seen. As Chloe watches him singing, a sadness comes over her. She had spent hours with Tate and never heard him sing or play like that. He had told her he’s a musician but what she’s watching is so much more than that and she deeply regrets not seeing that part of him while she still could.
Chloe pauses the video and stares at the image on the screen. Ending things with him was the right thing to do. He’d lied to her. He’d made a fool out of her. So why does she get a sinking feeling she’s just made a rash and foolish decision?
She looks back at the image of him at the top of the screen. She paused the video at a moment when Tate’s looking directly at the camera. Almost like he’s looking at her.
Chloe shuts the laptop and walks over to the sink. The only thing she can do is try to salvage a little of her dignity and move on. She seriously doubts she’ll see Tate again. Well, unless it’s on the TV, which she is going to have to avoid for a few months at the very least.
She looks down the beach but there’s no sign of Jove. Why is she even looking? If he was there would she race down and apologise? Chloe goes upstairs and pulls her art supplies out of the box at the end of the bed but has second thoughts when she sees the drawing she was working on with Tate’s help. So much for distracting herself.
Chloe goes back downstairs and grabs her bag off the hook in the hall. If she stays in the house she’s going to replay every single second of the time in the summer house with Tate. She can still feel his hands on her, still feel his tongue running across her skin.
‘Oh would you knock it off,’ she scolds herself. ‘It wasn’t that amazing.’ Now who’s telling lies?
With one last look down the beach Chloe turns in the opposite direction and walks up the road. Maybe a walk far away from anywhere she might bump into Tate will help. Then again, maybe it’ll just give her more time alone to think about the whole sorry situation over and over again.
