Original(ish) fic: Hope it Gives you Hell
Sep. 18th, 2012 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kitewithfishIf you find a man that's worth and damn and treats you well,
then he's a fool,
it's just as well,
Hope it gives you hell.
The last few months had been hell. The tours, the late nights, the constant travel were bad enough before she realized, no, she couldn't keep up with the band. The thrill of being backstage faded when it was where you were every single night, when she just wanted to sleep some nights without having to worry about whether one of the other guys was going to try bringing someone back to the bus and forget which bunk she was in.
Dammit, she'd been trying. Her degree was done and his band as suddenly huge, so it had seemed like a good plan, a great adventure even, to follow him around the country on their first big tour. She'd missed him the first time, and he'd come back with a fucking tattoo on his neck, and it. was. fine. Because for the first time he was really incredibly happy. The work was so important to him, and he was just bursting with energy. They'd recorded the next CD in a two-week blur and he'd written eight more songs for the one after, and some of them were really, really good.
Couldn't she just be happy for him? Be happy with him?
She's been trying so hard. But the next tour took them both away from home for months, and while she'd met great, amazing people, half of them still didn't remember her name by the end of the run. She was still "The Girlfriend" to a lot of people, and it got old fast. And she'd tried to step up for herself, especially when the other guys in the band had noticed it too, and things got better for a little. But then they went right back to not paying that much attention to her when the stress got too high again.
She knew she had to be her own advocate here. It's not like she got a pre law degree based on sitting down and shutting up in class- she'd fought her way to the top just like the rest of them had in college. But no one had her back here, it seemed, and went she finally got tired of it she could still hear them talking about her in the back of the bus when they thought she was asleep.
So she'd applied for a few internships without asking him his plans, and when one came through, a really good one, a firm with the kind of nonprofit background she'd wanted and a decent family leave policy and a really kickass history in the community, she'd knew she couldn't back down. And they'd kissed goodbye and made promises and tried to call regularly. The next tour went off without her and honestly, it had been really really great, not to have to pack up and leave the world behind.
She knew some of the other guys had fucked around on their girlfriends on tour, and the money had changed the dynamics, for some shitty reason. The other girlfriends (a rotating crew sometimes) tended to put up with it in a way she'd never have done, and while she respected him for that a lot, for not putting her through that, when he'd call and talk to her about the chances he could have taken and didn't, because he loved her, it felt like he wanted to be rewarded for it. It left a bad taste in her mouth- was she supposed to thank him? for not hurting her like that? He was supposed to love her.
She hadn't believed the tabloids that put him in bed with that slender brunette. He called her to beg her to believe him, but she already did, and he acted like it was a great gesture on her part, but really, she just thought the papers were stupid. He seemed almost disappointed that she wasn't angrier, and that felt like a bad sign, but she called it a win.
When he called one evening, she picked it up after fishing her phone out from under a pile of yellow legal pads. He wanted to take a break, and while she was concerned, she was having a blast and she really didn't have the time to hunt him down halfway across the world and find out what about Japan had made him change his mind about them.
It was kind of sad, but he seemed resolved, so she let it go and they'd talk about it when he came home in a few weeks.
Then the next set of photos came out, with a different girl, and there was no mistaking it this time. A reporter called her and asked what was going on, and she told him that they were on a break, and she saw the quote in a follow-up piece on some blog, and that's when she got the second call.
"Why wouldn't you fight for me? Why wouldn't you get mad at me? I'm fucking cheating on you, dammit! Why don't you get mad?" He'd been drunk, and slurring, and the logic was just insane. He'd wanted out, but really he wanted her to fight for him? When he hadn't wanted to even talk about it? When he'd been gone for the better part of two years being a rock star? When he didn't even notice that she couldn't sleep in a bus for another summer?
She hung up and went back to her life, the one where she mattered and people respected her and the people using the insane logic were the ones on the other side of the courtroom, and you could at least try to beat them.
When the single had come out, she hadn't bought it, but the dedication had shown up online in a few hours. "Here's to you, bitch."
Charming.
The song talked about her choosing something else over him, and how he hoped it would torture her later, every time she saw his face, and it just sounded bitter, but it sounded like him. Honestly, it really did sound like him. So she took her phone off the hook for a couple evenings, filtered her email a bit better, and basically ignored it. How many time was he going to pick something else over her and then blame her for it later? She'd lost count. She was done.
And if it went down in pop history that he'd been dumped by her, who was she to care? She knew what happened, and it's not like it was ever going to come up in a job interview.
then he's a fool,
it's just as well,
Hope it gives you hell.
The last few months had been hell. The tours, the late nights, the constant travel were bad enough before she realized, no, she couldn't keep up with the band. The thrill of being backstage faded when it was where you were every single night, when she just wanted to sleep some nights without having to worry about whether one of the other guys was going to try bringing someone back to the bus and forget which bunk she was in.
Dammit, she'd been trying. Her degree was done and his band as suddenly huge, so it had seemed like a good plan, a great adventure even, to follow him around the country on their first big tour. She'd missed him the first time, and he'd come back with a fucking tattoo on his neck, and it. was. fine. Because for the first time he was really incredibly happy. The work was so important to him, and he was just bursting with energy. They'd recorded the next CD in a two-week blur and he'd written eight more songs for the one after, and some of them were really, really good.
Couldn't she just be happy for him? Be happy with him?
She's been trying so hard. But the next tour took them both away from home for months, and while she'd met great, amazing people, half of them still didn't remember her name by the end of the run. She was still "The Girlfriend" to a lot of people, and it got old fast. And she'd tried to step up for herself, especially when the other guys in the band had noticed it too, and things got better for a little. But then they went right back to not paying that much attention to her when the stress got too high again.
She knew she had to be her own advocate here. It's not like she got a pre law degree based on sitting down and shutting up in class- she'd fought her way to the top just like the rest of them had in college. But no one had her back here, it seemed, and went she finally got tired of it she could still hear them talking about her in the back of the bus when they thought she was asleep.
So she'd applied for a few internships without asking him his plans, and when one came through, a really good one, a firm with the kind of nonprofit background she'd wanted and a decent family leave policy and a really kickass history in the community, she'd knew she couldn't back down. And they'd kissed goodbye and made promises and tried to call regularly. The next tour went off without her and honestly, it had been really really great, not to have to pack up and leave the world behind.
She knew some of the other guys had fucked around on their girlfriends on tour, and the money had changed the dynamics, for some shitty reason. The other girlfriends (a rotating crew sometimes) tended to put up with it in a way she'd never have done, and while she respected him for that a lot, for not putting her through that, when he'd call and talk to her about the chances he could have taken and didn't, because he loved her, it felt like he wanted to be rewarded for it. It left a bad taste in her mouth- was she supposed to thank him? for not hurting her like that? He was supposed to love her.
She hadn't believed the tabloids that put him in bed with that slender brunette. He called her to beg her to believe him, but she already did, and he acted like it was a great gesture on her part, but really, she just thought the papers were stupid. He seemed almost disappointed that she wasn't angrier, and that felt like a bad sign, but she called it a win.
When he called one evening, she picked it up after fishing her phone out from under a pile of yellow legal pads. He wanted to take a break, and while she was concerned, she was having a blast and she really didn't have the time to hunt him down halfway across the world and find out what about Japan had made him change his mind about them.
It was kind of sad, but he seemed resolved, so she let it go and they'd talk about it when he came home in a few weeks.
Then the next set of photos came out, with a different girl, and there was no mistaking it this time. A reporter called her and asked what was going on, and she told him that they were on a break, and she saw the quote in a follow-up piece on some blog, and that's when she got the second call.
"Why wouldn't you fight for me? Why wouldn't you get mad at me? I'm fucking cheating on you, dammit! Why don't you get mad?" He'd been drunk, and slurring, and the logic was just insane. He'd wanted out, but really he wanted her to fight for him? When he hadn't wanted to even talk about it? When he'd been gone for the better part of two years being a rock star? When he didn't even notice that she couldn't sleep in a bus for another summer?
She hung up and went back to her life, the one where she mattered and people respected her and the people using the insane logic were the ones on the other side of the courtroom, and you could at least try to beat them.
When the single had come out, she hadn't bought it, but the dedication had shown up online in a few hours. "Here's to you, bitch."
Charming.
The song talked about her choosing something else over him, and how he hoped it would torture her later, every time she saw his face, and it just sounded bitter, but it sounded like him. Honestly, it really did sound like him. So she took her phone off the hook for a couple evenings, filtered her email a bit better, and basically ignored it. How many time was he going to pick something else over her and then blame her for it later? She'd lost count. She was done.
And if it went down in pop history that he'd been dumped by her, who was she to care? She knew what happened, and it's not like it was ever going to come up in a job interview.
