After stewing for a minute or two, I hit “send” and waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Deciding that a watched pot never boils, I went and took a run around the park. I was going overboard with the exercise, but it was the only thing that channeled my restless energy. I had REO Speedwagon blaring on my iPod in an effort to drown out my thoughts.
I spotted a group of college guys playing a game of rugby and offered to join in. A couple of them actually recognized me and were over the moon to have me take part. All of Annie’s teachings must have been rubbing off on me because I took the opportunity to take a picture with them and posted it to Instagram.
@RonanFitz: Saw these boys in the park. Decided to join them for a match.
I felt weird and stilted in the way I wrote the caption, but I just didn’t know how to insert my personality into the post. Still, after only a couple of minutes, the picture had thousands of “likes,” and people were commenting on how they wished they could be there. A bunch of people who were in the area even came by to watch. It surprised the shit out of me. I’d never tried anything like this before, never knew the influence a single picture could have. I mean, people who had seen the picture came to watch the game, and they were actually nice to me, offering compliments and words of support.
We all got very excited to have an audience, and things got a little over-enthusiastic between me and the boys. I walked away with a couple of bruises, but for the first time in a long while, I felt good about the sport. I’d been so angry about what the fame had brought into my life that I’d almost forgotten how much I loved to just play, be a part of a team, enjoy the sense of competition and camaraderie.
And, to be completely honest, I loved the brutality of it. Though it was a match, it was real in a way real life isn’t. You hit, you scrum, you fight, you kick and punch and beat the living shit out of each other, and it’s glorious. Everyone knows the point. Everyone knows the goal. There’s no second-guessing, and there are no pulled punches.
After the match, I signed a bunch of autographs and talked to the people who’d shown up. I declined going to the pub for an obligatory beer. By the time I got home, I was exhausted but in a good way.
“Where have you been all day?” Ma asked when I arrived at the penthouse. There was a hint of annoyance in her voice that said she was looking for a fight, but I wasn’t going to engage her.
“Out,” I replied shortly and walked down the hall to my room.
“Well, that’s you told,” Lucy chuckled from where she’d been lounging on the sofa reading a magazine.
“Shut up, you,” Ma snapped, and I heard her heels clicking on the wood floor before the front door opened and shut, signaling her departure.
I opened up my laptop to find a response from The SML.
March 23
5:22 p.m.
Hi, Ronan,
I don’t remember ever telling you I was female. Still, if you want my advice, here it is:
If Annie needs space, give her space. From the stories about her so far in the press, she sounds like a sensitive girl, and perhaps cooling things off for a while could be a good thing. Maybe your relationship was too much too quickly.
Perhaps the harshness from your mother was a bit of a wake-up call, a good reminder that you belong to a lot of people—and not just your family. Think about it. She’s a normal girl living a normal life. She’s not used to people with cameras following her everywhere she goes. Perhaps it’s not that her feelings for you have changed, but more that all of it—meeting your family, dating a celebrity—is just overwhelming.
I don’t have much more to offer than that.
Of note, I’m going to be away on vacation for the next ten days, so I’ll be out of touch.
Yours,
The SML
P.S. I saw you’ve been a bit of an Instagram sensation today. I think it’s safe to say you’re officially embracing my way of life. Well done! Plus, you must not be so brokenhearted. People were posting lots of pictures of the game in the park, and it looked like you were having a fantastic time:-)
Okay, so she was definitely being passive-aggressive with that last bit. And now I really regretted ever having played that game today. I must have been experiencing a moment of stupidity when I neglected to realize that Annie, being the online wizard that she was, would see the picture I’d posted.
I wanted to write something in reply, but I didn’t see the point. My entire plan had backfired. I’d futilely hoped that Annie would reply with some suggestions on winning her back like, I don’t know, showing up outside her place and butchering a love song or something.
Her advising me in a roundabout way to back the fuck off was not my desired outcome. Also, the idea that she was overwhelmed by the media circus that was my life hurt. I wanted her by my side, but I didn’t want her to feel harangued.
So I moped around for the rest of the evening. Lucy tried her best to cheer me up, but it was a hopeless mission. I was wallowing like a lovesick fool. When Ma got home, she was clearly in a huff with me because she went straight to the guest room without so much as a word.
The following morning, while I was sitting by the counter eating breakfast, my phone buzzed with a text. My heart thudded when I saw it was from Annie.
Annie: Joan wants us seen together today. Gerta is forwarding you details on where to meet me for lunch. It’s a health food café, so I’m presuming you’ll be able to eat what’s on the menu.
Her text was so cold and businesslike, and the underlying message was clear as day: This is all for the cameras. My gut sank, but I didn’t allow myself to lose hope. The fact that she was agreeing to see me at all was a good sign.
A few hours later, I was dressed in a dark grey shirt and a nice pair of jeans.
“Where are you off to?” Ma asked as she sipped on her coffee where she sat in the lounge area.
“I’m meeting Annie for lunch. I’ll see you later,” I replied, and she started getting up from her seat.
“Oh, great, I’ll come with you then. I’m starving, and it’ll give me the chance to apologize.”
I held up a hand. “No, Ma, you can’t come. You can, however, apologize to Annie, but we’ll plan for that another time.”
Before she could say another word, I was out the door.
***
I saw Annie as I approached the café. She was sitting in the outdoor section as she waited for me, her long hair down and tossed over one shoulder. I noticed she was wearing one of her older baggy brown cardigans covering a pretty flower-print dress beneath. The fact that she was wearing the cardigan made me think she wasn’t feeling so special. She didn’t want to be noticed today.
Fuck, there was no way I’d ever not notice her. I thought back to our first meeting and how I’d lasciviously planned on making her a new notch on my bedpost. A temporary though very lovely distraction. It was almost like some higher power was playing a sick joke on me because now I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
“Hey,” I said, hardly recognizing my own voice, it was so tentative. I couldn’t believe it, but I was nervous. I was never nervous. She stood when she saw me, and I leaned forward, placing my hand on her shoulder and kissing her lightly on the cheek. She smelled incredible. I’d missed her so badly that it was almost too much to be this close to her. “You look beautiful,” I murmured in her ear, trying to ignore the gaggle of photographers across the street snapping shots.