Going Nowhere

July 6, 2016

They are keeping the baby. There was no question, neither of them could handle an abortion. As I had heard, Ashton was looking at houses down here, on the edge of the city, somewhere with a good school district. The baby wasn’t going to arrive until January, but he wanted to settle down before the baby was born.

 

There was no talk of marriage. We were all thinking it, except for the two that would be going through the process. No one was going to be the one to push them towards the idea, especially due to the fact that both of them were near being put into mental institutions with the way they were acting about this new family.

 

Ashton refused to live off of my offerings forever, even though I told him we were together through all of this. He was searching for jobs when Callie and Emma finally heard him sing. It was obvious from the moment they heard him. I had known too, but was still surprised they jumped to such an idea so quickly. Ash was going to open for them. He would lead them into every concert, get paid, his music career could continue through Skyline and he could support his family.

 

When I returned to work, after receiving profuse apologies that never seemed to stop, they cleared an office the size of my- Michael’s living room. The glass barrier between the hall and I established a new sense of authority, setting me as - not only an equal - but even a leader. There were couches and guitars that hung from bolts in the wall. My office was next to one of the studios, making the trip simpler than it used to be.

 

Michael would always stop by when he could, which was often seeing as he would usually write with me. When we weren’t writing, he was recording and I would stand in the box behind the mixer and be captivated by his voice. We spent lunches together; walk home together as we had before, I relished in all the time we did spend together, because I remembered the hurt of being apart from him.

 

“Hey,” Michael poked into my office, closing the door behind him.

 

“What’s up?” I looked up at him, my pen in hand and a notebook sitting in front of me.

 

He huffed. “I wish this-” He points at the wall of glass between us and the rest of the office. “-wasn’t glass.”

 

I shake my head, knowing at this point what he meant. “I’m not going to get fired again for having sex with you at work.”

 

“They won’t fire you… again.” He shakes his head innocently, smiling.

 

I roll my eyes. “You’re right. They’d fire you.”

 

He shakes his head again, plopping down onto one of the couches. “Nahhhh, I think I’ve got it alright. See, I’m in with one of the head writers.”

 

“Oh, really?” I grin.

 

“Mmmhmm,” He nods slowly, pulling his lip between his teeth. “I don’t tell her enough, but she’s got this great ass-”