Kiss The Sun

Chapter 20

Lilianna's POV

"Fancy seeing you here," Jake chuckled. I mustered up as much of a smile as I could.

Soon enough, I was matching his empty glasses. We were drinking and drinking. He was telling me about his guitar and the idea he had for a new song. I listened, thankful to have anything other than emails to fill my thoughts. The bartender just kept bring drinks as we asked, no one else braving the bar at that time of the morning.

Jake paused, sighing. "To be quite frank," he slurred, "it's all becoming so overwhelming."

"Oh trust me," I raised my glass, "I can second that." We finished our drink, added the empty cup to the ever growing stack, and signaled for two more. 

"Don't get me wrong, this has always been my dream. It's just a lot to carry. Night after night, city after city, show after show. It's a non stop race. And, honestly, I'm a little out of breath. And my brother doesn't seem to want to make it any easier on me."

I didn't realize he was struggling so much. That he understood how I was feeling so well. Or that he had some sort of problem with Josh. I reached out to touch his hand in sympathy, but let it rest there. 

"Is he putting pressure on you about more songs?" I asked.

"No, he's putting pressure on Brooklyn to kiss him instead." Jake scoffed and took a swig of the fresh beer in front of him.

So the problem wasn't Josh, it was Sam. 

"But it's not just that. I've had this rockstar, bad boy image. It's so much to keep up. And all I keep doing it hurting people. And getting hurt."

"I'm sorry, Jake. You don't deserve that." Any of it. He was drowning in expectations and stresses. I of all people knew what that was like. And sitting there in that bar, I realized that Jake knew exactly the pain I was feeling. He got me in a way I wasn't sure anyone else could. 

So I spilled it all to him. Told him how overwhelmed I felt, how hard the past weeks had really been. He listened intently, like he was truly concerned for me and truly engaged with what I was saying. And when he held my hand tightly and promised me I didn't deserve it and that he was still proud of me, I repeated it back to him again. 

"That's the thing, Lilianna. I do. I deserve all the shit I'm getting. And Sam is perfect for her. He has been since the beginning. Longer than you all even know." 

"What do you mean?" I wanted him to clarify, but his pupils were swimming and his head was swaying back and forth. He started swirling the beer in his glass, mesmerized with the waves that crashed against the side. 

With the glass still in his hand, he stood and moved in between my legs. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me. The alcohol coursing through my veins found it endearing, so I hugged him back. I stood as he guided me, sitting his glass down, and holding one of my hands. We started swaying back and forth to some invisible music, giggling like little kids. He spun me around and around, laughing and dancing. The only true sound was that of our laughter, but whatever place our dozen glasses had taken us seemed to be lively with sound. Finally, he spun me and dipped me down, one hand on my back, the other high on my leg. 

We didn't come up. Suddenly his face was very close and I could smell the drinks on his mouth. Or was that my mouth? My head was spinning and I was suddenly very aware of just how drunk I was, how drunk he was. But I didn't pull away. I didn't stop looking in his eyes. Because in those deep brown eyes, I saw pieces of myself. Pieces that were finally being understood. 

"Lilianna." He whispered. His mouth was so close to mine that it would only take the faintest of movements for me to kiss him. But I couldn't. I couldn't push myself closer.