Big Girl Playing in Paris: Big Girl Series Bk4 (3 page)

Wilder Side
had already played three of their gigs on the tour. She had been following along, emailing and texting Julian, and everything seemed to be going well, although he told her that he missed her more than anything. He would be so excited to see her there in Paris, weeks earlier than they had planned. She had emailed him this morning, complaining about her classes. He wouldn't find out until this evening.

She hurried back to her hotel room so that she would have enough time. She took a shower, change in her new dress, and spent ten minutes adjusting her accessories in the mirror. She put on her favorite mascara, the one that matched her dark red eyelashes, and lipstick to match.

"You are stunning," she said to herself in the mirror, and smiled. Her mirror image smiled back, echoing her confidence. She checked her watch. If she left now, she should be there in plenty of time for the show. Maybe she would even be able to catch up with Julian before the concert started. She squealed and shook her red hair out.

"Allons-y!" She said. "Let's go rock the fuck out."

But if she thought she was going to be able to see Julian before the show, she was sadly mistaken. The crowd leading up to the area where they were playing was packed tight, and when she insisted to the guards near the tunnel that she knew the lead guitarist for
Wilder Side
, they shook their heads and pretended not to know any English, pointing out to the general audience instead.

"Great," Shannon said. "This is what I get for trying to surprise my boyfriend."

She tried to make conversation, but all of the other girls in the audience ignored her efforts to chat in French, looking her up and down as though she was the dumbest, fattest tourist they had ever seen. By the time the show started, her nerves were frazzled and she had resorted to staring at her cell phone for company. Julian normally texted her right before a show, but there were no messages on her phone.

"It's okay, Shannon," she said. "You're not gonna let anything bust up your good mood." As the lights went up on the Arc de Triomphe, the people around her began to scream for the band, and her energy shot back up.

The show was definitely not the best they’d ever played, and Shannon could see that she would never get Julian’s attention from way back where she was standing. He looked irritated, and the technical screwups seemed to make the band play worse as the set went on. The crowd still loved it, though, and Shannon was thrilled to see how successful
Wilder Side
had become. It was so exciting to see them playing on tour in Europe!

After the show, it took Shannon a half hour to push her way past and get to the tunnel that led backstage. Once there, she managed to flag down a crew member to escort her in.

“Hey Asher,” she said, going over to where the drummer was packing up his microphones. He was the only one she had told about her early arrival. “Where’s Julian?”

Asher’s face dropped.

“Shannon, hey, what a surprise!” he said. “Julian left just after the show.”

“What’s wrong?” She could see that he had a weird expression on his face.

“Nothing, just he wasn’t in a good mood. I’m sorry, Shannon.”

“It’s okay.” But Shannon was worried. No text from him before or after the show, and now he had run off to god knows where. She tugged at her dress. “You know where he went?”

“I saw him heading down the street, going, uh, south? Towards the river. Not sure where he was planning on going, though. You know where our hotel is, right? Maybe he’s there.”

“Okay,” Shannon said, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “I’ll try that.”

While the rest of the band packed up, Shannon called the hotel. The receptionist there told her that nobody had come back from the band, so she left her number just in case.

She walked down the street toward the river, her eyes scanning the groups of people on the sidewalk. How many millions of people were there in Paris? There was no way she would find Julian just by looking. She sighed. All this effort into surprising him, and now this.

Oh well. She would have fun walking along the Seine anyway, and he was bound to show up back at his hotel. She knew he needed to cool off sometimes and just go walk around alone, so maybe he was doing that. She sent him a brief text—
how was the show?
—and put her phone back in her purse.

She walked for an hour by the river, stopping on a bridge to watch the water pass underneath. The dark river flowed slowly, the currents underneath invisible except for the fluttering ripples of light on the surface of the water. It gave her the chills, although the night air was humid, almost warm. She circled back towards the Arc de Triomphe. Maybe she could meet up with the band and wait for Julian with them. She pulled out her phone. Still nothing from him.

Crossing the street, she heard a commotion on the sidewalk outside of a bar. She was about to walk away—she didn’t want to get involved in a bar fight or whatever it was—but then she heard the words
Wilder Side
and stopped, turning back. As she got closer, the door opened and she saw Julian come out of the bar. He held a glass in one hand and a bottle in the other, and two slim, beautiful women were on either arm, swooning over him. He nearly fell down the steps and the crowd cheered, excited to see the American celebrity. Julian held up his glass in a mock toast and yelled something in French. Shannon couldn’t make out his slurred words but everyone around her laughed and yelled. One of the women leaned over and kissed his cheek, and Shannon felt a burning pain rise up in her as he smiled and tilted his head back for another drink.

Julian turned to walk down the sidewalk, and the crowd parted before him, giving her a good look at him. His eyes were glassy, rimmed red and he only took two steps before tripping and stumbling forward, catching himself before he could fall but dropping his glass. His glass shattered on the sidewalk and someone yelled something in French. Retching, he leaned over to the gutter, leaving the two beautiful women behind, and emptied his stomach into the street.

Camera lights went off, and Julian halfheartedly waved away the young man recording the scene on his phone. The crowd surged back as he took another swig from the bottle, rinsing his mouth with alcohol, and spit. Shannon watched as he leaned forward, one hand bracing himself on his knee, and heaved again, then coughed and pounded his chest. His head came up, and he saw her.

They stood ten feet apart, staring at each other. Shannon’s lips trembled and Julian blinked hard, as though he couldn’t believe it was her. The woman on his left leaned forward to whisper something in his ear, and he shook her off roughly.

“Shannon?” he said. He swayed on his feet, his eyes focused roughly in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Shannon felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She turned and ran.

The roar in her ears could not block out his yelling, and she knew that in heels she wouldn’t be able to get away unless he was too drunk to run. Still, she tried, unable to stop the sobs rising in her throat as she fled down the sidewalk, pushing people aside. It was only a block before she reached the river and he caught up to her. 

“Shannon, please.” Julian caught her by the arm and spun her around. They stood partway across a huge stone bridge, and passing tourists eyed them warily as they crossed the river. Shannon reeled back as the scent of his breath hit her—the overwhelming smell of alcohol masking the bitter tang of bile underneath.

She couldn’t stop crying. Everything she had looked forward to, her dreams of reuniting with him, evaporated into the cold night air.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Julian tried to hug her but she pushed him away. He caught her wrists, wringing them in his. “I’m sorry Shannon. I’m so sorry.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Why?
Why
, Julian?”

Shannon looked at Julian, but he just shook his head shallowly. The guilt in his eyes threatened to brim over into tears. She didn’t care. He had only been gone for a little over a week, and he had already gone and gotten drunk. And two girls on his arm! Who knows how many groupies he had fucked? Shannon caught a sob in her throat as she thought about the beautiful women bending over him, kissing him…

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked miserable, but any sympathy she had for him was currently buried in the rage and sorrow boiling inside of her.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I know.” The words were like a door clicking shut. That was it. Julian had never felt anything real for her. And after he had been so jealous of her! She couldn’t believe it.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, Julian. I thought this could be a real relationship.”

“It can! It is!”

Shannon shook her head sadly.

“Please, Shannon, don’t do this—”

“Me
?” Shannon tore her wrists out of his grasp. “I’m not the one who’s
done
anything.”

Realization dawned on Julian’s face.

“Shannon, no. No. I didn’t do anything with those girls. And this was the first night—”

“The first night, sure. What, do you think I was born yesterday?” Shannon blotted her fingers against her bottom eyelashes, blinking away the tears spilling over her cheeks. “The first night. And what would you have done tomorrow night, Julian?”

“Nothing! I would never—”

“I don’t believe you!” Shannon trembled. All of her body quivered with anger and hurt.

“I got drunk. I’m drunk.” Julian said, leaning forward. “It’s stupid and I’m the biggest idiot in the world, but I would never ever do anything like that to you.” He paused.

Shannon crossed her arms in front of her. She was done hiding her tears. She stuck out her chin bravely.

“No,” she said finally. “I can’t live like that.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t want to think that you might leave me. I can’t live knowing that you might do something horrible while I’m not there. I can’t live knowing that sometimes you don’t want me.”

“I do want you,” Julian protested. “Always.”

 “I won’t just be some girl you’re going to throw away once another woman puts her hands on you. I can’t do it, Julian.” Shannon choked back her grief. Every relationship she’d ever had ended in tears, because she always loved the guy more than he loved her. She flashed back to every breakup she’d ever had. None of them had ever broken up with her. They always slept around and she was always the last person to see it. Second chances, third chances, they all ended the same. It was all the same, all over again. Julian was abandoning her in the easiest way possible for him. She had thought he was the one, but no, of course not. Girls like her never got the guy in the end.

“You are the only person who means anything to me.” Julian said. His eyes rimmed red with tears.

“No,” Shannon said. “Don’t say that. Not after this.”

“You are.” A tear spilled over onto his cheeks, and Shannon could see him struggling to keep himself together.

“Don’t,” she warned.

“Please.”

“No.” Shannon thought she was done crying, but when he looked at her with pleading eyes nothing could keep her tears at bay.

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. You are the only girl I’ve ever loved, and I—” Julian broke down in tears. Sobbing, he fell to his knees. He leaned forward, his hands pressed in fists to his temples.

“I’ve messed everything up. I’ve fucked it all up. I love you so much, and I fucked it up, and I’m sorry, oh god, I’m sorry.”

Shannon’s heart broke at the sight of him weeping. She wanted to put her arms around him, to tell him that it was okay, that everything was okay. But it wasn’t. He had gone and ruined something beautiful, had broken her trust in him. But she fought the urge. If he couldn’t treat her, right, she would have to walk away.

He reached out to touch her, but she stepped back and left him holding air.

“Shannon…” His voice trailed off into silence.

“Goodbye, Julian,” she said, her voice catching on the last syllable. She turned and walked away from her dream.

CHAPTER FOUR

Julian watched her go and could not believe it. He had broken the one true thing, the only thing that mattered to him. All the money and fame and women meant nothing at all to him. Only his relationship with Shannon. And now he had ruined it.

For what? For one night of drinking. So that he could forget his loneliness without her. He could see himself in the not-too-far-off future: drinking at a bar, only his loneliness would be real. He had cut all of the strings holding him up and now he was on his knees with nothing to keep him from falling. The emotion-induced sobriety of the past few minutes disappeared in a wave of fuzziness as Shannon walked away from him into the Paris nighttime.

Julian pulled himself to his feet, feeling the alcohol all too vividly as he tried to catch his balance. Behind him on the sidewalk a small horde of fans and passersby had gathered to watch the drama play out. Julian spun and strode directly into the crowd. Cameras flashed in his eyes and he felt a tidal wave of rage building up, dragging its slow current into a huge cresting fury.

He swung wildly at the nearest person in the crowd with his camera out, not realizing how drunk he really was. He missed his mark and stumbled forward, knocking into a small cluster of fans. One girl screamed.

That’s what they want. Give them what they want.

Rock and roll stars got away with murder, didn’t they? What was a drink or two, anyway? He pushed his way through the crowd, uncertain of where he was or where he was heading. A new wave of bile rose in his throat and he turned to the sidewalk, heaving into the street. The crowd scattered away from him as he retched until all he had left in him was air. He pushed himself up from his knees and stumbled, glancing his head off of a metal pole. A lamppost? His vision spun, streaks of black in the periphery of his eyesight.

Shannon
. A horrific aftertaste burned in the back of his throat and he gagged.