I couldn’t help but notice the new photos that were released from the VMA’s, hosted at the Barclays Center this year. Specifically, I couldn’t help but see the performances that the “Artist to Watch” nominees put on throughout the show.
Aaron and his band are on a tiny stage, but the crowd was full of screaming girls and their glow stick necklaces. Aaron had grown out his hair; he looked completely different since the last time I saw him. I would remember since it was the day we officially broke up.
I let out a deep breath, looking down at my phone at the message Aaron had sent me earlier that day. The text simply read, ‘Meet me at the promenade around 8:30; I’ll be out of work then.’ Once I got to the promenade, I see Aaron sitting on top of one of the benches, looking out towards the water. My heart fluttered, happy to see him after not getting to for the past week.
“Babe,” I greeted him. He didn’t greet me back away; he simply smiled. “Everything’s okay?”
“They are now,” Aaron calmly said, kissing the top of my head. We sat on the bench together, looking out at the dark water reflecting the lights from the city skyline. Nothing was said after that, which began to make me feel nervous.
“How was work today?” I asked, trying to start the conversation.
“It was alright,” Aaron began to say. “It was cool to see one of my manager’s other artists record their debut album in the studio.”
“One day, that’ll be us,” I added, leaning my head on his arm. He felt cold like stone. I quickly looked back up at him, feeling extremely uneasy. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Aaron,” I said again, crossing my arms. “What’s going on?”
“My god Mollie, you just got here and you’re already stressing me out,” he said. His tone bothered me; it wasn’t like him to be so snippy with me. He sighed before he said anything else. “Sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
“I can tell,” I added. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever and whenever I do, you just seem like you’re not fully here.”
“I’m trying my best–“
“Then talk to me,” I spat out. “Tell me what’s going on–“
“It’s not that easy to just explain–“
“For fuck’s sake, all you have to do is talk to me!” I yelled out. I was pleading for him to just say it. It was like I could feel it coming and I just wanted him to get it over with. “Please.”
Aaron just looked at me, unable to speak. He sighed, as if he was heaving the words to come out.
“I’m leaving Waverly,” he confessed.
“Leaving?” I repeated. “Leaving, as in transferring out?”
“Leaving, as in…leaving.”
“I mean, that sucks but we’ll still–“
“Mollie,” Aaron sighed as he said my name. “The band got a record deal.”
My eyes widen, suddenly feeling excited. “What?! Aaron, that’s amazing!” I hugged him, but noticed he wasn’t hugging me back. “Aaron?”
“The record label is looking for an all boys band. My manager pitched the band as an all-boys band.”
“Oh.” It was all I could say. What more could I say? It was becoming clear as in what was happening now.
“But it’s normal for bands to go through these changes for the sake of its future–“
“So what you’re saying is that you’re okay with moving forward without me in it?” I spat out.
“I have no say in executive decisions like that–“
“You have a say when it was your fucking band in the first place!” I stood up, clearly hurt. “So, not only are you leaving Waverly, but you and your band got a record deal and just kicked me out of it?”
“I didn’t kick you out–“
“It fucking feels like it!” I couldn’t keep my voice down, no matter how many people on the promenade looked in our direction.
“Lower your voice,” Aaron scolded me. “Let me clear up a couple of things. It becomes less of my band when I decided for us to get a manager. He was the one that supported us and got us this record deal in the first place. I can’t just turn down the opportunity because the label is looking for a boy band.”
“Forget the band,” I said, feeling the knot form in my throat. “What about us?”
“Us?”
“What happens to us now that you’re leaving Waverly? We’re just going to spend after school together now?” Aaron doesn’t answer right away, which worries me. It was never like Aaron to be so tongue-tied like this, which made me realize the reality behind Aaron’s words. “You’re leaving New York, aren’t you?”
“Mols–“
“Oh my fucking god,” I reacted, walking away from the bench. Aaron grabs me by the arm, in which I immediately turned around and snatched away. “Don‘t!”
“What was I suppose to do, not take the deal?”
“How about talking to me first about it! Is our relationship just a convenience thing for you while you got your band up?” Aaron scrunched his brow, annoyed with me.
“You think I’d do that to you for two years? Just pretend to love you and care for you?” he asked. I know that wasn’t the case, but I couldn’t help but feel like it was. “Seriously Mollie, you’re making it seem like you’re the only one that this is feeling hurt–“
“You? Hurt? You’re getting a record label–“
“For the sake of losing you!” Aaron spat out. I was taken aback, not realizing how serious Aaron was being. “I have to lose you in order to follow my dreams; do you know how hard it us for me to have to make that decision?”
“No,” I simply said, losing all feeling in my body. “I would’ve chose to follow my dreams too.”
“Hey, Mollie,” I hear Weston’s voice call out. I looked up, immediately closing the Instagram app. I smiled as he sat in the booth across from me at the pizza parlor. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“It’s cool,” I said, facing my phone on the table, watching Weston take out his notebook. Shoved in the back is music sheets, specifically his music for vocal. “You didn’t bring your music?”
“I have it memorized already,” I said, leaning in on the table.
“Sheesh,” Weston reacted. “We just got this new song like 3 days ago.”
“I learn fast,” I teased as Weston deadpanned.
“Well, Mr. Kamalani now has eyes on me like a hawk after messing up the quartet last time,” Weston flipped through the pages, getting to his music.
“All because you wanted to help Milo,” I shook my head, looking at him.
“It’s cool; it just gives me the excuse to hang out with you more,” Weston played along. My face got hot, surprised at his honesty. He wasn’t wrong though; we’ve spent more afternoons in Mr. Kamalani’s classroom than I’ve spent here at the pizza place. Eventually, I told Weston that on the days we went hanging out in Mr. Kamalani’s classroom, we should at least get some pizza while we worked, even though we talked more than worked on the weekends.
“Have you talked to Milo lately?” Weston asked.
“Not much,” I began to answer, gulping down my can of soda. “He’s been super busy with his dual major stuff; apparently he’s doing something for his band class or whatever; I wasn’t really paying attention when we last spoke.” Weston laughed as he shook his head, probably not surprised at me.
“Well, I told him that he owes me a slice after school one day,” Weston teased. Weston and Milo were an interesting pair of friends. They never hung out after school, yet they were friendly enough to get out of that acquaintance role. To be quite honest, they act like they’ve known each other forever, but maybe that just speaks to how easygoing Weston is as a person. “You want another slice? Soda?” He was also super nice to me.
“All good on pizza,” I began to say, patting my stomach. I looked outside, noticing the VMAs advertisement on the city bus. My thoughts immediately go back on Aaron. “But totally sick of sitting in here. Let’s go somewhere.”
“Sure,” Weston quickly began packing up. “Where do you want to go?”
“Let’s go to the park,” I suggested, needing to get some fresh air. Weston smiled, getting up from the booth and walked to the front door together.
I didn’t say much on the walk to the park. My mind was focused on the billboards of the award show, knowing that my ex-boyfriend was out there with his band, living his dream while I was back here, not living my dream.
“Mollie?” Weston said as we sat underneath our sweaters at the park. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah.” I quickly brushed off. “So, what song do you–“
“Mollie.” Weston had a way of saying my name in ways no one else could. Weston was already a guy that didn’t say much words, but always had a different way of saying them when he did. The way he said my name said it all: You’re not fooling anyone here, Mollie.
I sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the spotlight on me. “Sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being… like this.” I hoped that was enough for Weston to brush it off; it wasn’t.
“If something’s bothering you, it’s okay,” Weston reassured. I looked at him, specifically in his ocean blue eyes. I didn’t know Weston that well to trust him with things that weren’t on the surface level. To him, I’m suppose to be this carefree, badass girl that knows her music just 3 days after first getting it. To him, I wasn’t this broken, vulnerable and chaotic person. I wasn’t tainted. But the look in his face was… comforting. It was like nothing could make him think differently of me, whatever that was to him.
I took a moment before I said anything, before I decided to trust Weston with the version of myself I was scared of exposing. “Award show season is coming up.”
Weston seemed confused. “Oh…kay?”
“Music award shows,” I added on, fidgeting with my fingers before giving up and sighing. “My ex-boyfriend is performing at the Barclays for the show, under their ‘Artists to Watch’ segment.’ This must sound so stupid to him. Weston’s eyes widen; of course this was something that doesn’t normally come out of a 16-year-old’s mouth on the daily.
“Oh,” Weston replied. “I see.”
“Yeah,” I said, sighing. “It’s hard to move past your ex when he’s literally on every campaign ad for the VMA’s.”
“I guess the break up wasn’t mutual?” Weston asked. I looked at him right before he looked at me. I shook my head. “I get it. And him being in the limelight doesn’t make it easier for you to move on.”
“I was the lead singer in his band, but his manager kissed a couple of executive asses and the band kicked me out.”
“And your ex allowed that to happen?”
“Well,” I began to explain, clearly not telling the entire story. “He told me the band got a record deal, but was looking for an all boy band. That was his way of telling me I was no longer in the band.” I hate having to remember that dreadful day during the summer, yet alone speak out loud about. “I didn’t want to break up with him, but doing a long distance relationship while your boyfriend is out living his dream really wasn’t appetizing.” Weston nodded his head, ultimately agreeing. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you or anything–“
“It’s not trauma dumping when I asked what was wrong,” Weston gave me a tight smile. He wasn’t wrong. “Anyway, I think he should’ve at least had a conversation with you before he made one with his band.”
“It just made me feel like I wasn’t important,” I vented out; more so to the universe than to Weston. “I know he loved me because I felt loved, but I couldn’t help but think maybe I loved him more than he loved me.”
“You can’t live with that what-if for the rest of your life though,” Weston responded back. Before I snapped back, he continued to speak. “Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. You can’t get closure for yourself that way.”
“Who said I was seeking closure?”
“You’re allowing billboards of your ex affect your day,” Weston pointed out. Got me there, Ashmore.
“Maybe I’m mourning the loss of almost being a part of the success of this band,” I spat back, feeling defensive. Weston raised an eyebrow up, obviously not calling my bluff.
“You’re good at singing, but it’s not your passion,” Weston concluded.
“What? You hang out with me a couple of days out of the week and now you think you know me or something?” I was getting angry that Weston was reading me, like he got the key to all of the answers about me and I didn’t like that. I felt exposed from a person who’s only known me for a month and a half. Even more so, I felt exposed to a person that didn’t see me in the same light as I do myself. It’s like he doesn’t even care about the cracks that expose my vulnerability.
“I don’t think I know all of you,” Weston began to respond. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be learning so much about you every time we hang out.” I felt my face get hot; was Weston unintentionally intentionally flirting with me?
“Well enlighten me,” I played along. “What do you think you know about me?” Weston shifted in his seat, preparing his answer.
“I know that you like your pizza slice crispy but the cheese still gooey,” Weston said. “I know you have a background in music and use that to you advantage for vocal class. I know that when you get nervous, you get defensive right after to protect yourself. I know that you don’t trust many people, so opening up to new people is tough for you. I know you portray yourself as this ‘tough-as-nails’ type of girl until you fully start to allow yourself to show your true self, which is a lot softer…” Weston smiled at me. “Need I say more?”
“Entertain me,” I fibbed, crossing my arms along my chest.
“Your passion is something you keep sacred, and not many people know your true talent.”
“I sing–“
“You do something else,” Weston emphasized. “Something that you hold close to your heart and are too afraid of people to know about.” I don’t say anything back to him, I was actually quite shocked that he was able to catch on this quickly. Does he really listen to me carefully like that? Am I that transparent?
“I’m surprised you don’t know what that is,” I teased back.
“You hide it well,” Weston answered. “I haven’t reached that level of our friendship yet.” I smirked at Weston, unfolding my arms. Opening myself. Allowing myself to be seen.
“I want to show you something,” I said, beginning to get up from the booth. Weston looked at me, submitting.
“Lead the way, Mollie,” Weston said in a sing-song tone.
Letters From Liz. 