A Girl Named Callie

<Jasper> A Boy Who Can't Forget Her

Chapter 4

<Jasper Coven>

I get Callie's voicemail again, the sweet, syrupy recorded quality of her voice making my blood boil. There's a loud beep, signaling that I can leave a message. I bite my lip hard and throw my phone at the wall, my hangover and pent up anger culminating in a shattered phone screen. Letting out a deep breath, I walk over to my phone and pick it up. The spiderweb of cracks is spread out all over the screen, a few pieces falling out as I shake it off. The screen comes on, the new cracks obscuring the lock screen picture of Callie and I. I run my fingers gently over her face, being careful to not cut myself on the broken glass. Her brown eyes look up at me, the sweet smile begging me to not lash out at her because of my own choices.

I slip the broken phone into the pocket of my faded jeans as I walk off to my dresser to grab a t-shirt. I pull a torn up Rolling Stones t-shirt over my head and grab my brother's baseball cap to mask the fact that I still haven't showered after my night out. My head is throbbing from the alcohol and my blue eyes are shaded by dark shadows and sleeplessness. I walk slowly to the bathroom and grab a couple of Advil from the cabinet above my sink. I swallow them with a glass of water as my phone begins to ring in my pocket. My heart leaps at the thought that it might be Callie, but my hopes sink when I see my manager's number displayed on my screen. Grudgingly, I put the shattered screen up to my ear, preparing myself for an early morning lecture.

"Were you ever planning on showing up to the studio, Jasper?" My manager, Isaac, says with an edge in his usually calm, professional voice.

"Yeah, maybe. Are they ever planning on letting me sing something I wrote?" I reply sarcastically as I step out of the bathroom.

"Maybe if you showed up on time and in a good mood every once in a while, they'd be more receptive to your ideas."

"You're lying to me. You know damn well that I'm just a face for whatever they want to put on the radio. That's the way it's been ever since they signed me." I roll my eyes as I slip my feet into a pair of Vans.

"Jasper, you have a job to do, regardless of what you personally think. Most people would kill to be in your place." My manager replies, fighting to keep his voice level.

"Tell them they can take my place. I don't want it anymore."

"I'm just going to chalk all this hostility up to the fact that you're seriously hungover and I'm going to ignore all this sarcasm."

"Do whatever you want, Isaac, it won't change the facts."

"Jasper, time is money and so far, you've wasted three hours and thousands of dollars. I'm sending a car over to your place. Be outside in 3 minutes."

"Your first mistake was thinking I would be willing to drive myself into hell, Isaac." I say sarcastically as I lay back on my bed.

"Be outside or I'll get you a live-in babysitter."

"Can I pick who it is? There's these hot models who have been dying to see my room." I chuckle, the amusement not showing on my face.

"Don't test my patience, not today, Jasper." Isaac lets out a deep breath of disappointment.

"Oh c'mon, that's my favorite activity."

"The car is outside. If you're not here in fifteen minutes, I'll call in the big guns." With that, Isaac hangs up and leaves me to make my own choice. I sigh and roll off my bed, phone still in hand. I get in the penthouse elevator and ride it down to the lobby. I slip on a pair of sunglasses and push open the front doors. I'm greeted by the incessant flashing of paparazzi cameras. A pair of strong arms leads me through the crowd and towards the open door of Isaac's promised car. The door is slammed shut and I lean against it, trying to get a view of the outside world through the tinted windows.