The following Monday arrived after an uneventful weekend. Jaime had missed the work, as she did every weekend. Sometimes, they worked over the weekend, but Jaime didn't like having to do that. Abi was still a college student, which Jaime sympathized with. Still just a kid, but certainly more diligent than the previous bassist. Throw Dart had always had a revolving door of bass players, but it seemed Abi was here to stay.
This morning, the band wasn't scheduled to come until around ten, and it was seven when Jaime pulled into the parking lot. She figured she'd use her spare time mixing the tracks they already had finished.
"Wait. So you're telling me Victoria got suspended?" She says into the phone pressed to her ear as she slams her car door behind her.
"For fucking standing up for herself. I mean, can you believe it? This is what public education has come to? Christ's sake." Victor mumbles, along with a stream of curse words. Jaime hears him take a long drink of coffee.
"Well, she probably shouldn't have slapped that girl... but still." As she enters the studio building, she waves politely to Nick, a fellow producer who used this building for mixing hip-hop tracks.
"I don't see why not. She was being a bitch." Vic says bluntly. "Anyway, do you want to talk to her? She's upset she's missing the science field trip."
"Yeah, put her on." She steps into the elevator and hears the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone line.
Then, a feeble, "Hi, Aunt Jay."
"Hey, Tori." She greets, already feeling awkward. She'd never been that good at conversing with kids, though Tori was growing up quickly and already in junior high. "You taking care of your dad?"
"No way. Yesterday night he came home from work with a huge cut on his forearm. He said it was from... I don't know, doing something with wood."
Jaime laughs. "Let me guess. He pretended as if it didn't exist while dripping blood everywhere."
"Yes!" Tori replies, giggling herself. "Mom got so mad. But, not mad mad, just like, caring mad. You know?"
"Yeah," Jaime smiles to herself, feeling warmth as memories of her childhood desperately clawed at her, attempting to be noticed. Hadn't Victor been like that? Overbearing... protective. She thinks so, she can't remember a time not having that type of sibling dynamic with him. And yet, she could still see blurry flashes of memories in her mind, hopelessly piecing together in a fuddled mess. Victor's grimacing face, him shouting at her, putting a chair up to her doorknob so she couldn't leave her room. Jaime's smile creases into a deep frown, and despite taking her painkillers right when she awoke that morning, a dull pain blooms in her skull.
"Well, um. Are you going to work?" Tori's voice snaps her out of her stupor.
"Oh, yes. I'm here now, about to work on some tracks. Listen, Tori, I know you're upset about being suspended and all, but enjoy your time off, okay? Watch some movies, play video games... just don't dwell on it. Have fun."
"Okay, thank you, Aunt Jay. Love you."
"Love you, too. Tell your dad I'll talk to him later and that I love him."
"Okay, bye."
Jaime hangs up her phone just as she fishes her keys out from her purse and jams them into the doorknob of the studio. But to her surprise, she soon realizes the door is already unlocked. Confused, she opens the door and enters the room. The sight of Corey, her assistant, greeted her as she sighed in relief.
"You didn't lock it." He says casually, sipping at a Starbucks beverage. She shoots him a playful scowl.
"That's weird. I know I did on Friday night." She says dismissively, taking a seat in the office chair in front of the soundboard. "Anyway, the band will be here around ten."
"What are we working on until then?"
Jaime grabs her laptop from her laptop bag and puts it on the table. She opens a program and clicks play, and a rough demo of the band's latest song blares. Corey bobs his head along, dark brows knitted together.
"Okay. Needs work."
"Definitely."
With that, Jaime begins mixing the track while Corey observes and makes the occasional suggestion. He was still studying audio engineering, so Jaime didn't always take his suggestions too seriously. She remembers how she had been in college, determined to prove her worth and produce the best music she could. Egotistical, young.
When Jaime's phone rings, she doesn't take her eyes off the board. "Can you see who that is?"
Shuffling as Corey retrieves her phone from her purse. "Not saved. Area code 207."
She halts, the song still playing. The color drains from her face and she dizzies from the bloodrush. Swallowing thickly, Jaime takes her phone from Corey with a convincing smile and makes an offhand comment about hoping this could be more work. As she slipped into the hallway to answer the still ringing phone, she wondered if she was having a low blood sugar attack.
Down the hallway, a band argued loudly in their studio, the door wide open. The floor underneath Jaime's feet seemed to began swaying, as if she were on a rickety boat sailing the ocean. Had she not been so curious, she wouldn't have even pressed that accept button.
"Hello?" She spoke softly into the device.
"Jaime Criss?" A deep, male voice questions.
"Yes?" Her voice had dropped to a frightful whisper, like a child under blanket covers, trying to will away the monsters.
"It's Mike Hanlon. Does that sound familiar?"
"Ahh..." The dull pain in her head burst into hundreds of tiny knives pressing into her brain. She presses a hand to the cream-colored wall next to her. "I think so. I'm not sure."
"From Derry." When Jaime didn't respond, he continued. "Do you think you could fly out here? I know you're across the country, but I... wouldn't ask unless it was necessary."
"What is this about?" She asks when she finds the courage to speak. "What do you want?"
"Jaime, please. I need you here by tonight. I just Googled it, you can get a flight to Bangor in the next few hours."
The bile rising in her throat was bitter, acidic. The florescent lights above seemed to beat down on her, heating her hairline and slicking the sides of her face in sweat. She didn't realize how much she was shaking until she felt the phone against her ear bouncing with each shiver. I haven't felt this way in years. Well over twenty years, that's for sure.
Again, she swallows harshly. "Uh, yes. Yes, I'll be there."
"Thank you. I'll send the address of where we'll be." We?!
Jaime hung up the phone the moment Mike ended his sentence. She stood there in the hallway for a moment, distantly registering that this was the calm before the storm. Once again, her life had changed in the blink of an eye, just in a matter of seconds. That was all it took, wasn't it? Just a minute or two for everything to be different.
Like a magician snapping their fingers.
-
Persuading Corey into taking over for a few days proved to be no challenge at all. He appeared to be ecstatic of his new authoritative position, and barely even asked Jaime why she was so hurried. She sent a group text to the band, assuring them that this was temporary and she'd be back soon. In a flurry, she was home and lugging an old travel bag from the depths of her and Parker's shared closet.
Jaime blindly threw clothes and toiletries into the bag, her mind too fuzzy and her head too bleary to digest what exactly was being put into said bag. Before changing from her work attire to something more casual, she downed two more painkillers and tossed the orange pill container into the bag too. She moved like a tornado, tearing everything in her bedroom up behind her. This was the least of her worries. The most being the fact that things were starting to come back to her. Sensations she thought she'd left behind after her head made a sickening collision with the car window, then the steering wheel, then the pavement when she practically fell out of her vehicle. You're lucky your brain isn't bleeding. The doctor had said, in awe at her MRI results. I barely even remember who I am, how lucky can I be? She had wanted to say, but instead she forced a tiny smile and requested another cup of cold, hospital tap water.
The multiple doctors and therapists all told her the same thing; her amnesia was not permanent. She'd be back to work in months time, which reigned true. And even while on bedrest, unable to keep any food down due to the nausea stemming from the incessant migraines, Jaime continued working. Writing songs that she'd end up selling to pop musicians like Britney Spears and Gwen Stefani. Strumming her acoustic guitar, ignoring Parker when he'd insist she just lay down. Or she'd attempt to draw, Victor telling her she drew often as a child. She stopped trying after she struggled making a stick figure. Once the migraines died down and she could remember things like locking the door or turning the oven off, she went back to work and certainly made up for lost time. But she knew she would never really remember the first sixteen years of her life, the most influential moments of childhood fading into oblivion. How do things just... fall out of your brain? Where do the memories go? She had a mental image of them all falling out of her ears with each smack of her head that day in 2001, like a comedic cartoon scene.
In the kitchen, Jaime opens the cabinet holding all the miscellaneous items and grabs her vitamins. Later, she'd wonder why she had even bothered. As if the vitamins would add some sense of normalcy to this impending shitshow. She closes the cabinet with a shaky sigh and turns to go back up the stairs, but nearly trips over a soft bundle of fur. With a sudden yelp, Jaime jumps back, her lower back painfully coming in contact with the marble counter behind her.
A meow is all she hears in response.
"Oh, Bertie. You startled me." Jaime says, holding a hand over her chest and exhaling slowly. The cat jumps onto the counter next to Jaime and meows once more. She scratches his ears, unable to smile when he purrs in response.
"I'm scared, B. Really scared. And the funny thing is... I don't really know why." She tells the feline, who bumps his head against her fingers. "Derry, Maine. Derry... Maine. I grew up there, didn't I? That's what Victor said, at least. He doesn't like to talk about it, I don't think. Probably because of Dad. He's still pissed about the overdose." Albert makes a small noise, somewhere between a proper meow and a purr. "I think... this has to be done."
Albert stares back at her, eyes piercing and yellow. Wise beyond his years, almost as if he had been a black cat already in his past life. A new sense of calamity washes over Jaime, knocking at least half of the elephant on her shoulders off. Now, she smiles, small but present. "You'll be here when I get back, right? I know you probably prefer Parker over me, but you are legally mine. Sorry to disappoint."
Before ascending back upstairs, Jaime cracks open a can of wet cat food and sets it on the floor for the feline. He brushes against her bare ankle as if showing thanks before beginning to engulf the food.
More bustling about followed, until she was inevitably rolling her travel bag down the stairs. Once at the bottom, she tugs her phone out of her pocket and dials Parker, knowing she'd have to tear off the bandaid.
He picks up after a few rings with a disgruntled, "Babe?"
"Park, hey. I'm sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing, but... I have to go back to Derry. My hometown. There's been an emergency--"
"Alright, no problem." He says dismissively, earning an eye roll from his wife. "When're you going, this weekend?"
"Right now, Park."
Intoxicating silence followed, swallowing Jaime whole. Parker clicks a pen for a few moments before clearing his throat. "Really? Now? I- I had a work gathering tomorrow night, I promised I would bring you--"
The laugh bursts past Jaime's lips before she can stop it. The fucking audacity. "Did you, Parker?"
"Well, yes, but--"
"That's too bad. Sorry for the fucking inconvenience." Guess you'll have to take one of your mistresses.
"C'mon, Jay, don't be like that. You can't blame a guy for wanting to show off his girl."
"Actually, I am. Goodbye, Parker. I'll see you soon."
Jaime hung up the phone. She jammed the phone into her purse, slung it over her shoulder, and grabbed the handle of the travel bag. Before exiting through the garage door, she caught a glimpse of her frazzled state in the mirror there in the laundry room. A reflection stared back, but rather than having straight hair, slight wrinkles, and neatly applied makeup, the Jaime staring back had unruly hair, cheeks round with baby fat, and an acne-ridden face.
Jaime gasps. And when she blinks, the image fades. But one thing remained; the wide, fearful eyes, darting around in worried terror.
-
She was lucky to get a flight to Bangor so instantanously. Mike hadn't been lying when he said she could get a flight there in the next few hours and be there by evening. There, she'd have to drive only a half hour to Derry. While she waited for the flight to board, she called a rental car service, who promised a Kia would be ready for her that evening. All the while, she frantically texted Corey, telling him she couldn't afford for him to slack off right now. Jaime wanted to threaten him, tell him she'd fire him if he screwed this up, but they both knew that wasn't true.
Her eyelids hung heavy with fatigue. Blinding morning sun casted a golden sheen upon everyone seated in front of the tall windows. If she were to guess, Jaime would say she'd been awake for days. She glances down at the time on her phone. Nine forty-two, it glares back. Eighteen more minutes. She'd been having a mental debate on getting something super sugary, only barely considered coffee at the Starbucks in the airport, but now she couldn't care less about the unnecessary calories. Slinging her purse over her shoulder, Jaime stands and makes her way there.
In the Starbucks, she simply glances at the menu and then recites something to the bored teenager, something with caramel and three espresso shots. He tells her it'll be a minute, and so she takes a seat on one of the tall chairs and feebly attempts not to succumb to the sweet embrace of sleep. To keep her mind occupied, she pulls out her phone and plays some silly game that bombards her with ads every thirty seconds.
Over the tiny speakers in the Starbucks, an 80s song begins playing, something Jaime doesn't recognize. "You're lonely in your nightmare, let me in. And there's heat beneath your winter, let me in..." The lead singer croons, which, accompanied by the heavy bassline, almost seems sinister. Jaime swallows thickly and looks up. The workers behind the counter are laughing, slacking off while making her drink. She wants them to hurry, yet at the same time, she wants to run out of here, back to her house. Which, in hindsight, she realizes isn't much of an improvement from this cold, spacious airport.
Her name is called by the time the song ends. Jaime nearly falls off the chair on her way to get the beverage. Once received, she rushes out, the laughter and teasing of the workers behind her falling on deaf ears.
Twenty minutes later, she's on the plane, staring forlornly out the window. The older gentlemen next to her makes polite conversation with her, asking her what's in Maine for her. Jaime doesn't lie, she says she's meeting with an old friend, and that she's nervous. "So much time has passed," she tells him, "I don't remember much."
"If this friend means so much to you, time won't mean anything once you see them." He responds, to which Jaime only nods.
And once the plane takes off, the ground below begins fading. But what doesn't fade, is the bright red balloon that reads 'I LOVE DERRY' floating motionlessly right outside Jaime's window.
A/N: the song Jaime hears playing is Lonely In Your Nightmare by Duran Duran, i was listening to them while writing this and felt like it would be a neat incorporation, especially since we see that Pennywise uses music to taunt Jaime a lot due to her occupation. anyway, hope y'all are mclovin it. next chapter things get spicy