So The Woman Disappears

Chapter 1

I sat at the piano in what was once Cecily's room. Ever since she moved out, it had become my music room. My space to flourish and think and create all the living, breathing words floating around in my head. I stared listlessly at the keys, plunking each carefully, hoping the perfect sound would present itself and I could finally begin my second album.

However, my muse seemed to out of town. Once again. I didn't know how I was going to finish an album I hadn't even started yet. Micky and the gang had just put the finishing touches on what they dubbed Pisces, Aquarius, Capricorn, & Jones Ltd. Wise of them to hop on the astrology train of the 60s. It was especially funny to watch Davy's indignant reaction when they tacked him to the end of the album title.

"Wot?" he had snapped. "You think this pretty face doesn't make us millions? Fine, mates, put me at the end. But you'll be sorry."

This was followed by a duet of "Shut up, Davy" by Peter and Mike, and a "It's because you're short" by Micky.

I shook my head with a grin and stared out the window at the sun setting over the buildings, birds zigzagging across the sky, art in motion. I wondered what it would be like to be free like that. No inhibitions, no responsibilities, no one waiting on you. I wondered if my life had gone the way I wanted it to. I wondered if my dad was proud of me. My mom rarely ever called, and when she did, she seemed distant. I had begun to worry about her.

A knock on the door snapped me from my reverie. I turned around to find Micky with a box of donuts. I couldn't help but smile. He looked like an angel with his halo of curls and his beard.

Micky smiled back and walked over, setting the box of donuts down. He kissed my nose, then started rubbing my shoulders. I leaned back into him, eyes fluttering shut.

"You've been sitting at this thing all day," he said. "Take a break. The piano isn't going to grow legs and run off."

"Hah hah," I said sarcastically. "I can't. I have to start writing."

"Well, it ain't gonna come to you just by doing nothing," he whispered, lips suddenly inches from my neck and hands trailing down to my breasts. "Get into the groove, baby."

"You've been hanging around that damn cowboy for too long." I moaned under his lips and expert touches. "Do you talk about seduction tactics over drinks and guitars?"

"That's not his style anymore." He hummed against my neck and I shuddered. "But I do think my girl is sexy and has the moves."

"Say no more," I breathed, spinning around on the piano bench to face him. I looked up and began unbuckling his belt.

I loved seeing that look in his eyes. The look that made you want more. The hooded lust and the parted lips. The way his hand curled around my hand and guided it to his bulge.

"Guess we should make our own music, huh?"

---

We laid on the floor afterwards, covered by his jacket and snacking on donuts. A single lamp illuminated the room in warm light. Not romantic or harsh, just a glow. It had been a while since we had a moment like that. I hardly ever saw him. It wasn't like before we found fame, when it was just us and we were deeply in love.

I was still in love with him, but I felt the distance. I felt him pulling away with each phone call, with each fuck. I had a feeling I was doing the same. I didn't know how to bring it up to him, so I just kept my mouth shut.

"It's been a while since we've done this," I mumbled into his chest.

Micky swallowed the donut he had been chewing and laughed. "Kat, we did this the other day."

"No!" I exclaimed, laughing a little to myself. "Since we've made love."

He was silent for a moment, then said quietly, "Yeah... I guess it has been a while."

He pulled me closer and kissed my head.

It was then I realized just how overwhelming his cologne was.

I sprinted to the bathroom, hand over my mouth, and vomited in the bathtub. I heard Micky's astonished shout and feet padding toward me as I let loose donut remains. He pulled my hair back and rubbed my back until I finished. I coughed and fell backward, leaning against the tub and wiping my mouth with a hand towel hanging to my left.

"Are you okay?" Micky asked, feeling my forehead. "You feel clammy."

I nodded. "Yeah, it was just... your cologne caught me off guard. Triggered some reflex or something. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, babe."

"I still think you're dazzling," I said, suddenly desperate to convince myself that we were okay. I was desperately reaching for him emotionally, hoping it would make him remember us before the music, before everything changed, before I became desperate.

Something shifted in his eyes, but he just grinned. "Let's get you to bed."