LightWeight

Step Twenty-Two

Deciding not to let myself get too angry over this, I paid vague attention to what she said. Basically, the rest of P.Y.T could continue for the last two weeks with their assistant manager because Tiny quit. She said something was going on that she didn't know about, and she felt something was off and with her daughter behaving like "This" she couldn't focus on anything else but her.

But that didn't upset me. What upset me, was when Walter asked if we still wanted to perform and 5 out of seven of us said "Yes". The ones who said no were Bree and me. To say I was livid would be an understatement. My leg started to twitch in the process, causing me to bounce it up and down. Soon, all of the managers left to give us a minute to discuss it ourselves.

"I cannot fuckin' believe this." I said when they turned the corner. "Someone you call a sister, or girlfriend, or best friend, is in the damn hospital and you're worried about performing at a damn concert."

"It's not even like that." Matty was the first to speak. "Us being here isn't going to help her recover any quicker. She wouldn't want us to sit around her anyway. The fans were everything to her."

"Yeah," I scoffed. "You're the prime example of doing everything she wants. Tell me, did she want to be cheated on too?"

If for only a split second I saw the shock go across his face, but only for a second. It was quickly replaced with anger, and I'm sure the look on his was the perfect mirror of mine. I didn't really care how he felt, it was the truth. But from the shock, I wonder if he even knew she knew, or anyone else for that matter.

"Oh, speechless now?" I stood up from the seat as I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. "You should just be lucky we don't know who the bitch is. Fuckin'...ugh."

I walked away from him, refusing to let him frustrate me any longer, or any of them for that matter. I heard footsteps behind me, but I ignored them assuming they were prodigy's. I didn't feel like being bothered with him either. I was proven wrong when an unfamiliar pair of hands grasped my wrist, turning me into the wall separating one side of the room from another. It was Matthew.

"Let me the fuck go." I attempted to pull my arms from his grasp but couldn't. It was tight enough to keep me restrained, but not leave any marks.

"I am so fucking tired of you and you're mouth. That's the shit to get you in trouble."

I wasn't here anymore. I was nine and I saw his face looking at me form above. "Stop," my premature voice squeaked. "Stop! That hurts!"

My breathing turned a little hoarse as I stared at Matty. "I don't give a fuck what you have to say- it doesn't change the fact you hurt her."

"Stop fucking worrying about her!” He whispered, attempting to scare me I guess. "Worry about you and yourself, not me and her." He was getting aggravated, I could tell by how he tightened his grip on my wrist before taking one off to punch the wall next to my face. Well, palm it.

I looked down at myself as I felt something wet running down my face. I then touched my nose, the place he previously hit, and saw the blood.

My heart rate was speeding up. "Let me go. Just, let me go."

I felt the cushion of my bed on my back, though they weren't as soft as usual. I felt hands reaching for my clothes, and I felt breathes on my neck.

"Let me go!" I was able to free one of my wrists, and with that I punched him wherever I could. I hit his chest. "I told you not to fucking touch me! Don't put your damn hands on me before I cut your throat in your sleep! This is not a fucking game you want to play!" Before he could even react fully, I went in the Ladies washroom. Pacing for a few seconds, I remembered my phone. Taking it out, I saw my Mom had called. I wasted no time in answering.

"Hello?" She answered, a sniffle building itself up.

"Were you just crying?" Everything else had left my mind. The issue with Star, my anger with Matthew,, nothing else mattered. All that mattered was my Mom and what was going on with her. "Mom, what is wrong with you?" I felt my own tears building up. 

"Baby, I am so sorry for keeping this from you." Her tears broke free, and I found tears leaving from my own ducts before even finding out what was wrong. "I didn't expect for it to get this bad. I really didn't and-"

"Mom," I interrupted her. "Just tell me what's wrong."

"Desi...I am so sorry...But...I have Stage three Breast Cancer." I zoned out. I only heard a few words after that as my breathing was further constricted. "It's a...Chemotherapy...Two years ago....Try radiation...I love you..."

And the battery died.

I don't know who came and got me form the bathroom, or if I left on my own and reentered the group. But I do know we were ushered into a van and driven to the stadium we would be performing at. I could hear the eager fans outside, because show time was in thirty minutes, but I couldn't process that. I didn't have any complaints as I was dressed or tossed like a rag doll as makeup was applied and hair was done.

I was stuck in the thought of my Mom having Breast Cancer, and knowing she had it all this time and never told me. The fact I was on tour while my Mom was dying! She's all I have left. If she's gone...

Leslie brought me from those thought telling me it was time for me to go on stage. I entered in a daze, and before I knew it was on stage with screaming fans and the beat playing for a song I didn't know at the moment. I closed my eyes, trying to will myself to say something, but the next thing I felt was my hit hitting the stage and all of the noise leaving.