The ultimate high though?
Being wanted. Adored. Screamed over. Your name on their lips as they chant it over and over again. And when you’re some low rent, wannabe rock star and they still lose their shit over you? It’s heady fucking stuff.
The younger fans, though? Not so much. They’re a little scary. Rabid in their adoration. A bunch of little detectives, searching for you on the internet and finding out all your private information. That shit worries me. I don’t know why. Losing my privacy is a precarious thing. You want people to find out who you are and listen to your music. I’m not just writing songs for myself. I want to share my songs with the world.
But sharing them with the world, and the world loving them, that all comes with a heavy price.
Having Ellie there while those girls lost their shit over me calmed me down. She’s a touchstone. My touchstone. Someone who’s been supportive of me from the start. Who’s always adored my songs, yet also calls me out on my shit when I act like a dick, which is most of the time. She’s real.
Just about as real as a person can get.
We finish our food mostly in silence. Me still thinking about what happened, her probably realizing hanging out with me comes with a lot of baggage. By the time we’re back in my car and I’m pulling out of the parking lot and onto Clovis Avenue, the tension between us is thick, and I don’t know why.
I decide to break it first.
“Are you mad I took over your car situation?” I ask.
A soft sigh escapes her, and it’s like a sock to the gut. A straight hit to my dick.
I can deny it to myself all I want, but I’m still drawn to this girl. And as more than just a friend, too.
But she’s moved on. Found someone else already. Right?
“I was mad at first,” she admits. “But not anymore. I know you just want to help.”
“I was kind of bossy about it,” I say.
“You totally were.” She sounds amused. “Which made me mad. Not gonna lie. I’m over it now, though. I appreciate your help. And I want to pay you back.”
“No. I don’t want your money.”
“Jackson…”
“No,” I repeat firmly. “It’s a gift.”
“Like for the next five years?”
“Nah, you’ll be indebted to me for maybe only two years.” I laugh when she sends me a look. “Seriously, I expect nothing in return. I want to help you. You need a car that runs.”
A better car than the one she currently has, but I keep that opinion to myself.
“I definitely need a car. Not sure how I’m supposed to get to work the next couple of days. Public transportation?” She makes a face. “I suppose I could take the bus.”
“That late at night?” I shake my head. “No fucking way.”
“How else am I supposed to get home, hmm?”
“I’ll pick you up.”
“Come on, Jackson. You’ve already done enough,” she says. “I can find a ride from someone else. Maybe one of my roommates.”
She barely knows those girls. I haven’t met them yet, and I’m sure Ellie wouldn’t ask them because she doesn’t want to impose on people. Even those she’s known for years.
“It’s no big deal. Though I probably can’t take you to work because I’ll be at practice when your shifts start,” I say.
“Yeah. I start work at four.”
“I can definitely pick you up after though,” I say.