Here To Take My Medicine
And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you…
If you go out tonight, I’m going out ’cause I know you’re persuasive
You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it
You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh
“So is Taylor coming or what?” Laura asked, carefully eyeing Mia as she typed on her phone.
Mia shook her head. She leaned across the bar, more for privacy than to be heard better. The bar they had chosen, only blocks from Taylor’s house by Carolina’s estimate, wasn’t all that crowded or loud. “No, I don’t think he is. He says he wants to see Robert, but then he says to tell him hi. So I guess that’s a no.”
Laura groaned. “Why is he being like this?”
“It’s just how he’s been lately,” Mia replied. “I don’t really know what’s up. He’s just been more of a hermit than usual lately. I keep encouraging him to get back out there, especially since he just released an album. He should be playing more shows, or at least just putting his face out there and networking. But I guess he feels like the hard part is done now that it’s released. I don’t know; I feel like I’ve been so tied up in the whole engagement thing, maybe I haven’t taken time to really ask him what’s up and that’s my fault.”
Carolina could make a few educated guesses as to what had crawled under Taylor’s skin, but she didn’t think she could take all the credit. Everything that had happened with Delanie and all the other fans would make most people second guess if they were on the right path. Then again, Taylor wasn’t most people. Maybe he was just going through a phase and it had nothing to do with her or any other fan.
“Does he do this hermit thing often?” Laura asked.
Carolina decided it was best to stay quiet. Mia took a long sip of her drink, then made a face that implied she either didn’t know or wasn’t sure she should say anything. “I’ve been telling him he probably needs to get back into therapy. I think—I mean, we could all benefit from a little bit of it, you know? He goes through these spells, but I do worry right now, because this should be a time for celebrating, but he just… I don’t know.”
While Mia talked, their fourth round of drinks had been delivered. Apparently Mia knew one of the bartenders at this place, and she was good at her job. She kept the unique, delicious cocktails coming at pace that made Carolina’s head spin—or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.
As they drank that round, and the next, the conversation shifted from Taylor to Zac, and to the few tentative plans Mia had begun to make for their wedding. Carolina tried to pay attention, because she wanted all the information she could get about their world, but she couldn’t have been less interested in wedding planning.
“…and then Zac starts talking about how we have to be discrete and pick a private venue, and it’s like—sometimes I forget that he used to be famous. He’s just Zac to me. And he truly doesn’t have the kind of obsessive fans that Taylor has. But I suppose it is still a concern.”
“Obsessive is putting it nicely,” Carolina interjected. She glanced at her phone, wondering if she should text him. She decided against it; he had probably heard enough from Mia about the concert. Her eyes landed on the time and she added, “We should probably get going. Do you know where this place is, Mia?”
“It’s just around the corner,” Mia replied. She stood up and motioned to her bartender friend.
Moments later, with their tabs closed, the three girls were out of the bar and walking down the sidewalk. It was Saturday night in a hip neighborhood, and though it made her walk slowly and awkwardly, Carolina was glad she had decided to pair those heels Taylor had liked with her tightest pair of jeans. She looked good, even if he wasn’t going to be there to see it.
The venue, if it could be called that, was easy enough to spot; there was a large crowd outside, slowly filtering into the building. Carolina fell in line behind Laura and Mia, momentum and excitement propelling her easily up the building’s three flights of stairs until they reached the half-enclosed, half-open air top level where the concert was already in full swing.
Some band Carolina didn’t recognize was on stage, and though the music was good, her primary concern right then was getting another drink. It was possible she had already had more than her share, but she really didn’t care. She rarely drank when she was at home; trips were the one time she allowed herself to cut loose. Not to mention, with everything happening in her life right then, she needed a little self-medication.
When she made it back to Laura and Mia with their three rum and cokes, she found them engrossed in a conversation with the man himself—Robert had apparently found them in the crowd. He flashed her a wide smile as she handed the girls their drinks, then engulfed her in a familiar hug, as though they hadn’t only met the one time before.
“Hey!” He said. “How have you been?”
“Good, really good tonight,” Carolina replied, surprising herself with how genuine she sounded. It was all the alcohol talking, she was sure, but without it, she sometimes forgot entirely how to interact with other human beings.
“I’m glad you girls could make it,” Robert said. “What are you doing here in LA anyway?”
“Work stuff,” she replied. “I just wish we could have talked Taylor into coming out tonight.”
“Yeah, I miss that bastard. I haven’t really seen him since the tour.”
Carolina thought back to what Mia had said earlier, but thought better of saying anything along those lines. Instead, she let Mia and Laura lead the conversation, as they discussed the bar they had gone to earlier and other options for after the show.
“What about the Black Cat?” Laura suggested.
“Hey, that’s near my place,” Robert replied. “I hang out there all the time.”
“You must live near Taylor,” Carolina said, glad that Laura’s plea for him to join them there later drowned her out. Although her statement was fairly innocuous, she felt like it exposed everything she was trying to keep hidden.
“Well, hey, we’ve got to get on stage soon, but I’ll talk to you girls again after,” he said, shooting a glance at one of his bandmates who had walked over.
“Why don’t we all take a pic first? Just a quick one?” Laura asked.
“Of course!”
Carolina allowed Robert to pull her close to his side for the picture. She handed her phone off to Ned so that he could get them all in the frame. When he handed it back and walked off with Robert, she couldn’t resist the urge to text the photo to Taylor. She hoped he understood all that he was missing that night.
The girls were easily able to sidle up to the front row of the makeshift stage. The band was just starting when they arrived, and it took only a few bars for Carolina to find herself entranced and in her happy place once again. Maybe she had been wrong about herself all along and she was a live music sort of person. Then again, maybe she was just drunk.
Rooney’s set was short, only five or six songs, but it was enough to leave Carolina still feeling like she was flying as the three girls made their way out of the venue and onto the street. Carolina took it upon herself to attempt to hail a cab, while Laura tried to convince Mia to stay out with them.
“I wish,” Mia said. “But we’ve got this cake testing thing in the morning. Cake for breakfast, I guess. Anyway, I texted Zac to pick me up and he’s… oh, right there.”
Mia motioned toward a blue truck that was conspicuous in a town like Los Angeles, then gave Laura and Carolina both quick hugs before darting out onto the street and diving into the passenger side of the truck. Only moments later, a cab heeded Carolina’s frantic waves and pulled over. As she and Laura fell into it, Carolina rattled off the name and what she could remember of the location of the Black Cat.
She experience a strange sort of déjà vu as they drove the handful of blocks to the bar where her strange night with Taylor had started. The cab deposited them on the street in front of it and they scrambled through the door. It looked somewhat different, somehow, but Carolina could easily pick out the table where they two of them had sat. Her words slurred, she motioned toward it and said, “That’s it. There’s where it all started.”
The bar wasn’t all that crowded, most people having already tapped out for the night. The two girls easily found seats at the bar, where Carolina ordered yet around round of rum and coke. She couldn’t even begin to guess what number drink she was on, and she really didn’t care at all.
The more she drank, the more upset Carolina became that Taylor couldn’t be bothered to join them that night. It was in his own backyard and it was a friendly night out at a concert with people he knew—she didn’t understand what reason he would have for staying home. Unless he simply didn’t want to see her. That was all there was to it. She was right there, ready for the taking, and he couldn’t be bothered to even try to get her alone.
Drinks r real good at the black cat tonight you should come out
Carolina hoped the text said what she meant for it to say, and that the implication behind it was clear. She was right there. Ready for him. Willing. And he was sitting at home, doing what?
At some point, Carolina became aware of the fact that she was practically shouting at Laura, every other word an expletive aimed at what an asshole she thought Taylor was. She was vaguely aware that there were likely people in the bar who knew him, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t stop. The room spun and she could barely focus on anything but her growing anger with Taylor.
A booming voice called out that it was last call, and Carolina didn’t care. She only moved, her rant still flowing freely, when the lights came on and Laura began nudging her toward the door. What a long, strange night it had been. What a frustrating end to a trip she had been sure would end in Taylor’s bed.
The cab ride back to their hotel was forgettable. Carolina’s alcohol-soaked mind couldn’t seem to latch onto anything. She was vaguely aware of the hotel room, of the feel of the mattress beneath her, then the cold tile of the bathroom floor. None of it made sense. Only small snatches and glimpses seemed to stick. She felt sick. That much she was sure of. The alcohol dulled even that sensation, leaving her wondering why Laura seemed so concerned.