Not This Time

Nina: August 19, 1987

     I'd spent the entire day in bed while Jon was out doing publicity events with Richie and The Bozz. We hadn't had a show in ten whole days, so I'd been taking advantage of the time off to catch up on some sleep. I loved it. The television was on, but I wasn't really watching it. British humor was very hit or miss for me, but it was good background noise and every once in a while I'd understand one of the quips.
     It wasn't until later that evening that Jon got in. He didn't unlock my door with his keycard as he'd done for the past three nights we'd been here. My only guess was that he wasn't alone in the hall and somebody knew that this wasn't his room. It was the only reason he'd knock like he did. With a tired sigh, I folded back my covers and went to open the door.
     "Hey Rockstar," I greeted, playing a part without even thinking about it, "What's up?"
     "I wanted to talk to you about some mic effects for the next show," he said. It was such a basic lie. I mean, it was definitely something Jon might potentially ask about for a show...during sound check. He never asked about effects for anything, sound or lights, until we were programming for show. That was just Jon.
     "Sure, come on in," I replied, "Maybe we can draw up a prelim setlist for the festival while we're at it."
     Jon chuckled at that as I stepped aside to let him in. We both knew there wouldn't be any setlists written out before sound check. Well, no. I'd probably write out two, Jon would write out a third one ten minutes before show, and then he'd change it two minutes before show. It was a long-running joke between everybody on tour. No doubt, it always would be, too. As long as Jon was Jon, there wouldn't be a setlist until two minutes before show.
     I turned to face him as I closed the door. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't look angry or sad, either. He kind of looked tired. I smiled a little, stepping over to him and looping my arms around his neck. His arms habitually snaked around my waist.
     "You didn't really come to talk about mic effects, did you?" I supposed. Jon shook his head but said nothing. I gave him a coy look. "You just wanted to sleep in my room, huh?"
     Jon shook his head again. I was just about to give him a surprised look when he spoke up. "Well yes," he corrected, "I do want to do that too." He paused and licked his lips. Then he took a deep breath and finished, "But I really did come in here to talk to you."
     "Oh?" I asked, "What about?"
     Jon just stared at me for a second. I tried not to let my face fall. I knew from that look exactly where this conversation was headed. He was going to ask about the secret. I knew he was. He could probably see that I knew, in fact, but he went ahead and asked anyway.
     "How much longer are we going to be a secret?"
     I let my face fall this time. I dragged my hands over his shoulders to rest on his chest for a moment as I pulled away from him. He knew I hated talking about it. He knew everything I could tell him.
     "Oh," I sighed, "You want to talk about that."
     He scoffed as I stepped around him. I could tell he was getting more and more annoyed each time he brought it up because each time, I would avoid it. I usually knew how to get around discussing it with him, but he'd gotten smart this time. He'd picked a time to bring it up when I didn't have a logical excuse to use. There was no show in a few minutes and we didn't have to be hitting the road soon. I'd just had a whole three days to catch up on my sleep, so I couldn't be tired, and even if I was, that excuse wouldn't fly. He was Jon Bon Jovi; nobody on this tour was more tired than him. I was trapped.
     "I'm serious, Nina," Jon said as he turned to face me, "I'm so tired of sneaking around all the time, aren't you?" I didn't answer him. I knew if I did, it would only encourage the conversation. Nevertheless, my silence didn't seem to discourage it as I'd hoped it would anyway. Jon went on. "I don't really even know why we're a secret anymore," he said, "I mean, Matt knows about us, he's over it. He's gone now, right? So why are we still hiding?"
     I narrowed my eyes at him incredulously. Where had he gotten the idea that we were hiding from Matt? As important as I'd thought it had been to keep our relationship from Matt, that was never the reason I'd given Jon. Hell, Jon hadn't even known about Matt when we got together. He didn't meet Matt until Christmas.
     I shook my head a little. "What has Matt got to do with anything?" I asked with a little more attitude than I'd intended. Jon seemed confused by the tone of my voice. Or maybe it was what I said.
     "Well you never told me anything more about the guy," Jon defended with just as much bite, "After all that drama a few months ago, I kind of assumed he had something to do with it." He crossed his arms with a tiny shrug, shaking his head at me as well. "I mean, he was against it from the second he knew. Why wouldn't you want to keep us a secret from someone like that?"
     I rolled my eyes. He assumed. Just like he had on New Years when he'd kissed me without thinking. I didn't dig up that hatchet though. I didn't have the patience to bring that back up. Instead, I responded to his last observation with one of my own.
     "By that logic," I stated, crossing my arms too, "We would have to be a secret indefinitely." Jon looked surprised for a half a second and flashed me a warning look. He could tell I was about to twist his words against him. I couldn't help that he hadn't thought before he spoke. Undeterred, I explained, "The great majority of your female fanbase would be against it from the moment we went public." Jon frowned at me. I raised an eyebrow, daring him to deny it before adding, "Why wouldn't you want to keep us a secret from people like that?"
     Jon glared at me and then shook his head, looking away as he fumed. He knew I had a point. And yes, it may have been that, but deep down I knew I was bullshitting. Jon could probably tell too.
     "You want to know the difference between what I said and what you said?" he challenged, finally looking back at me. I didn't answer, just looked away. "The difference," he growled, "Is that I don't care. I don't care what they think. Not the fans, not Matt, not anybody!"
     "Oh, BS!" I snapped. Jon seemed stunned for a second, but it didn't take long for his glare to return. "You and I both know you'd do almost anything to keep your fans happy!"
     "Yeah, almost," Jon retorted, "There's gotta be a line somewhere, and this is it!"
     "No it's not," I scoffed. Jon frowned, seemingly annoyed that I kept contradicting him. I think he thought I was just being contrary, but I wasn't. I had a point. "It's not like this is the first time you hid your relationship to appeal to the fans," I reminded him.
     Jon rolled his eyes and groaned, shaking his head in disbelief, "You're really bringing that up?" he argued, "That was between me and Dotty! It has nothing to do with you!"
     "Of course it does!" I countered, "You're being a hypocrite!"
     "How? How am I being a hypocrite, Nina?"
     I pointed at him. "You're allowed to keep your relationship with her a secret to keep your job, but I'm not allowed to keep our relationship a secret to keep mine?" I spat, "That is, in fact, probably the biggest reason we're a secret, Jon! In case you've forgotten, I don't want to get fired!"
     Jon shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. "Oh come on," he said, "That's complete crap and you know it!"
     "It is not!"
     "Is too!"
     "No, it's not!" I snapped, "The label doesn't approve of intimacy between coworkers, and guess what? You're just a different cog in the same wheel on this tour, Jon! Like it or not, I'd get kicked off tour!" I glared and shook my head at him. I'd never been so angry at him before. I was sick of him bringing this up like he didn't know. Just thinking about it made me angrier. "You'd lose nothing," I insisted, "No wonder you want everything! There's no price for you!"
     Something like hurt flashed across Jon's face, but it was quickly washed out by his frustration. He didn't understand anything that I did. I couldn't force myself to see it from his perspective though, either, because mine had so much more to it that I just couldn't ignore.
     Jon shook his head again and then shrugged. "The Bozz wouldn't fire you," he stated.
     "You don't know that," I grumbled.
     "Yes I do."
     I narrowed my eyes and glared daggers in his direction. "No you don't, because you're not Rich Bozzett!" I said.
     "So what," Jon protested, "I've known the guy for years!"
     "Yeah, and in all those years, you've never been in this situation, have you?" I challenged, stepping over to him because I was trying to keep my voice down, "You've never seen how he'd react to this because this hasn't happened to you before!" Jon just stared at me. He knew I knew the answer, but he'd had the nerve to bring it up, so I wanted to hear it. "Has it!?" I demanded.
     He frowned at me. "No, but.."
     I pointed to myself as I took another step closer to him and hissed, "I'm not taking the risk that you're wrong!" As I turned away from him, there was a heavy feeling in the air. An unsaid phrase loomed between us.
     You've been wrong before.
     I didn't say it. I never would have said that, but the feeling that I had made the atmosphere stale with resentment. I knew Jon could feel it too even before I looked back at him. His expression, though, made it painfully clear that he'd read between the lines. There was just a tiny bit of hurt hiding in the anger that burned in his eyes.
     "Why are you being such a bitch about this?" Jon scoffed.
     I could feel my mouth fall open, but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't believe he'd said that to me. In the entire year that we'd been together, he'd never once called me a disrespectful name. Not a single one. Not to my face, at least, but as far as I knew, not at all. I blinked and, still shocked, let out a breath, gazing away from him for a second as I collected my thoughts. I shook my head a little.
     "Really," I said with surprising calm, still shaking my head slowly. I was speaking to him, but I was looking toward the television, as if one of the characters on the screen would answer me. I bit my lip and huffed again, finally looking back at him. "I'm a bitch for wanting to protect my livelihood and the only way we get to see each other every day?" I shrugged, shaking my head in those tiny little shakes. "If that makes me a bitch, fine! Fine, I'm a bitch," I ranted. I pointed at him, still shaking my head as I glared, "But you're a self-centered asshole!"
     "No, Nina," Jon barked back awkwardly, trying to keep his voice down as well, "You putting your job before us is what makes you a bitch."
     "Oh the irony!" I declared sarcastically, throwing my hands up to either side of my head. Motioning to him, I added, "You put your job first, why can't I?"
     Jon opened his mouth like he was going to answer, but I waved my hand between us to keep him from speaking. He didn't even understand that if I wasn't working, I'd have to leave. I'd be sent home. He didn't get that I was 'putting my job first' for him. It appalled me that he didn't get that. It was a stupid thing to fight about and it wasn't even the reason he was looking for!
     I tugged my hair, squeezing my eyes shut, and groaned. "God, you're so infuriating!"
     Jon snarled back, "You're not doing so hot yourself!"
     "Fuck off!" I spat. He didn't get it. It wasn't even about the job. Yes, I wanted to stay on tour, but it had never ever been just that. In reality, I was still hung up on the idea that he would leave me. I knew that I would eventually have to tell him everything about my past, about being from a different time, about what could theoretically happen if he still wanted me to stay despite it all. It was just so complicated. The woman he'd fallen in love with was the woman I'd always been deep down; it was back in my time that I was pretending to be someone else. But Jon wouldn't see it that way and I didn't want him to look at me differently. I couldn't shake the feeling that he'd call me crazy and leave me if I told him. I knew I had to. I just didn't want to do it during tour, and I didn't want to do it after the whole world found out about us. There would have to be some in-between.
     Jon rolled his eyes too and shook his head. "Clearly this isn't working."
     I stared at the covers on my bed. What did he mean by that? Did he mean the conversation? Oh God, what if he meant the relationship? I didn't even bother asking. I just swallowed back the fear of that possibility. I would have to face that at some point anyway, wouldn't I? It would be easier to right now; he was being a jackass.
     After a moment, I shook my head, still not looking at him. "Obviously not," I agreed, "You can get the fuck out now."
     Jon didn't listen. "Nina, I'm telling you, The Bozz wouldn't-
     "I said get out!" I snapped, interrupting him. I turned back to him, arms crossed.
     He took a step backward and frowned at me. "I'm gonna prove it to you!" he assured me, "I"m gonna go tell him right now!"
     I gave him a warning look and then a skeptical one. "I don't believe you."
     "I will!" he retorted, backing toward the door, "You know why? 'Cause I don't believe you'd leave!"
     He wanted to go there then. My glare turned positively glacial on him. I knew he was testing me, so I took him up on it. "Try me," I growled, "I dare you."
     Jon didn't even hesitate. His hand was already on the door. "Fine! I will!"
     He opened the door and gave me one last defiant glare, which I returned, before he stepped into the hall and started down it toward The Bozz's room. I didn't move until I heard the door latch shut.
     My resolve crumbled then, allowing tears to finally start welling. What had just happened? Was that a breakup? I stared at the door for a good few minutes, trying to figure out how this had happened. I sank onto my bed and stared at the carpet, bringing a hand to cover my mouth.
     Bitch.
     I choked back a sob at the sound of his voice saying that word. Water started rolling down my face then. Why had I argued like that? Fear, I guess.
     Jon, I promise I'll tell you everything someday after it's all over.
     I closed my eyes, letting a few more tears fall before I covered my face. I was the self-centered asshole here. I was too afraid of what he'd think if I told him everything. I was too afraid that he'd not only not believe it, but that he'd shun me for it. I loved him too much to lose him like that. It had to be on my terms.
     ..I promise I'll tell you everything......tell you everything someday after it's all over...
     What had I done? I let out a sob and wiped my face. It was all over now. For sure. He was going to tell The Bozz about us. It was only a matter of time before I was kicked off tour and sent home.
     But hey, if, God forbid, he ends up breaking your heart, you can still call Matt and me to come and take you home.
     Emma's words held my attention for only a few seconds, but it was long enough. I didn't want to be here when The Bozz came to fire me. I didn't want to see the look on Jon's face when he realized he was wrong. I looked over at the phone. I knew if I called Matt, there was no turning back, but I wasn't sure I could handle being forced off of tour.
     As I reached for the phone, I realized that this was just like me. Typical. This was me doing what I always did. What I've always done.
     Nina Aretelle. Running away.