Chapter Thirteen

BLAKE

 

 

Georgina was silent the whole way home, and I was happy to sit in my own quiet contentment as I drove. It gave me time to think. And plan. Not just for the next item on her list, but for the future. My future. Our future.

I dropped her home and picked up my bike, and when I noticed a pawn shop still open late on the way back to my place, it seemed like a sign.

It took a while to find the things I was looking for back home. I’d put them in a safe place a long time ago, but safe really meant forgotten. Like I’d tried to forget that whole time. But I finally found what I was looking for, buried in the garage under motorcycle parts, in a document box filled with record label contracts. I popped the ring box open, checking the contents, and saw part of my past that made my heart clench. One engagement ring. Two wedding rings. I snapped it closed again.

Then I was back at the pawn shop, waiting for the guy behind the counter to notice me.

I cleared my throat. The dark-skinned man with short-cut, pure white hair looked up at me from his crossword.

“No loans,” he said in a tired voice.

“I was hoping you could give me a price on these.” I showed him the ring box, and he waved for me to hand it over.

He reached through the steel grid that fenced the counter off and took the box, inspecting the contents, then raised a skeptical eyeball at me. He pushed the box back toward me and crossed his arms. “I’m not after fake shit or lifted property.”

“They aren’t. They’re mine. They’re real.”

“Ha! Big young guy like you, coming in with merchandise like that? Come on.” He went back to his crossword, grumbling something about kids these days stealing to pay for their gym juice.

I sighed, and reached for my phone. It took me a while to load up my unused Instasnap account, and then find the photo I was looking for. “See? They’re mine.”

“Hey! Is that Sey Sey?” The old man started singing. “Without you, what is life for? Without you, what’s a heart for? Without you-hooo-hooo, I am undone.”

“Yeah.” Everyone knew that song. The words I’d written. The words Seyvia had sung.

The man looked closer at the photo. It showed Seyvia and I in a cheek-to-cheek embrace, our hands out, flashing our brand-new wedding rings. “Oh, damn. That’s you.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re—?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. Okay then.” He shook his head, grumbling under his breath. He looked from the photo to the rings again. “I can’t give you what these are worth. Not even close.”

“Just give me what you can.”

He laughed. “I like you, kid. I’m trying to be nice here, but you’re the worst haggler I’ve ever met. Give me a minute.”

He checked his cash drawer, then waved as he got up and hobbled around to a locked office behind him. He returned with a two-inch-thick wad of cash. “If you’re happy to take this for these, you’re a fool.”

I chuckled. “Who’s being bad at haggling now?”

The pawn shop owner shrugged. “I’m not that cutthroat. You’ve already lost enough. You sure you want to be parting with these?”

There was only a moment of hesitation as I went over the thoughts and feelings that had brought me here tonight. I was ready—ready to say goodbye. “Yeah.”

He hesitated to hand over the cash. “You know, you’d do better auctioning them. I bet there are some fans out there that would die for these.”

I was sure there were, but I had been hoping to part with these rings in a way that would see them just disappear into the system. I didn’t want the media or anyone to know I was selling them. I didn’t want some online auction going viral, digging up the past, and making ugly speculations about my life after Seyvia. It had been years; I was allowed to move on. I hoped this guy would just take the rings at any price, and then not turn around and auction them himself.

I’d said these rings weren’t fake, but in some ways, they were. Getting married—it was never my idea, or Seyvia’s. It was a plan from her PR people.

They had known that Seyvia was getting too wild. Dangerously wild. But they didn’t care about her. They just cared about her brand. They wanted to take it in a new direction, something more wholesome. So it was decided Seyvia and I would get married. The childhood sweethearts, still so in love, making long-term commitments. It had worked for them and their plans.

I didn’t object, not really. I’d loved Seyvia. I’d thought she loved me. I’d always planned to marry her, just maybe not that soon, that young. I’d thought we had all the time in the world, that we were going to be together forever.

I didn’t even get to choose the rings. I didn’t get to propose. It was all done by Seyvia’s PR team, from the cut of the obscenely-large diamond to the celebrity-filled wedding extravaganza, to the careful photo shoot of the honeymoon.

My love for Seyvia had been real. But these rings were fake and meant nothing to me. I didn’t need them anymore, but maybe the cash I got for them could be used for something that was real.

I didn’t plan to rely on songwriting royalties my whole life, and they weren’t enough anyway. Thanks to us being young and taking a bad deal, the amount I got from them only just got me by. The payment from the rings, and the cash from my night as a stripper, would help me finish Georgina’s childhood list, and maybe help with the start of something new. That would be enough. After that, I had a whole life ahead of me to build my own career, to follow my own goals.

The guy looked at my expectantly. “We good?”

“Thanks, mate, we are. It’s a deal.”

We exchanged cash for rings, and I said a silent goodbye to that part of my life.

The man hid the rings away under the counter. “Anything else I can help you with tonight? I need to clear out guitars. Maybe I can throw something in for you to help make up the difference.”

“Yeah, actually. There is something I’m looking for.”