Julien Baker: One-Shots and Stories

Conversation Piece - Part II

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This is part 2 of 3. Hope to get the final part up soon! ;) Xoxo ✨

—

As Phoebe disappears into the crowd, I feel it again.

Julien's gaze.

Her eyes are on me, I can tell, despite the only glimpse of her I'll allow myself out of the corner of my eye. A heat flows to my face, and I will myself not to look.

I'm so confused. I'd made a promise to myself long ago that I'd never - again - get involved with someone in a position that was dependent on me, no matter how tangential.

And the opening band for my biggest tour this year certainly fit that description.

But the brain space I'd used to stand firm in that resolve had suddenly dissolved into a mess of tangled nerve endings.

Am I being paranoid? Should I just relax and learn to trust people? I can hardly imagine anyone acting as horrifically as the. . . individual who will remain nameless who'd been the impetus for that resolve. So why can't I take a chance, let someone in for once?

I tilt my head and crack my neck, envisioning my crazed thoughts flowing out onto the floor, a mindfulness technique that I've found actually sometimes works. Goodbye, anxious thoughts, I tell them.

With a deep breath, I relax my shoulders and stand straight. I'll act exactly as I always have, I tell myself. And I'll try not to overthink.

I snake through the crowd to find Lucy on the makeshift dance floor. She welcomes me with open arms, and I start dancing with her to SZA, singing at full tilt. I can ruin my voice if I want to, I think happily. There's no one to sing for tomorrow.

All the while, I can feel her eyes following me.

She's leaning against the back wall, talking to Terra, drink in hand, watching me.

Lucy leans in and whispers over the music, jolting me out of my reverie.

"She's watching you again," the tall beauty says, and her head tilts in Julien's direction. I feel my cheeks heat.

"Nah, she's just bored of Terra's incessant gear blather." Great, I think immediately. Lucy'll see right through that one.

"Excuse me, have you met Julien Baker? When has that bitch ever not turned into a kid on Christmas morning at the mere mention of anything that even smells faintly of guitar?"

I thwack her arm, grinning. She laughs, grabs my hand and twirls me, causing my flared black skirt to rise up like a sail.

"Lucy!" I protest, but she's giggling too hard to hear.

Julien nods at something Terra is saying, but she presses her lips together, her eyes glued to me.

What the hell, I think. I turn around and spin Lucy, and we laugh and sing Think I got it covered for the weekend! at the top of our voices.

When the song ends I slip away to the bathroom. I gaze at myself in the mirror. For perhaps the first time in recent memory, I smile, feeling like I look good. No matter how many magazine features I get, or morning show interviews, or music videos, I'm never satisfied.

But maybe tonight, I think . . . maybe tonight I'm enough.

Back at the party I join Lucy, Phoebe, and a group of crew talking about their favorite restaurants from the tour. Phoebe's just waxed poetic about a diner in Denver when my body suddenly goes hot, as Julien sidles up beside me.