CHAPTER 2  || THUNDER

The sound of the swift pull of the curtains opening and the brightness of the sunrays through the windows glaring immediately made her realize that she was no longer in dreamland.  She was back in reality—a reality in her Malibu beach house, two in the afternoon, with an invader in her bedroom.

Amber buried her head underneath another pillow to shield herself from the blinding light.

“Amber,” a voice called.

Through the pillow, she groggily answered, “Jie…can we postpone this little meeting in like two hours?”

Victoria, her friend, manager, and practically her older sister, hovered over the sleeping pop star.  Her hands on her waist and her heart on her sleeve, she has come to her senses with a rigid resolution.  She places an envelope on top of the bedside table and sends an unprecedented message, “This is my two weeks.”

No second later did she get a reaction from Amber.  Tossing the pillow aside and mustering every bit of sobriety, she sits up, rubs her eyes, confused about this reality.

Is this a joke?  Two weeks?  Is this a dream?

“Jie…wait—”

“I’m thinking a nice long vacation, travel around the world a bit before going home to see the family in China.  Any place sounds nice…Maybe some philanthropy work in Africa,” Victoria takes a seat at the edge of the bed.  She flashes a tender smile and adds, “I don’t know.  Just anywhere to get away from any access to the Internet.  Anything to get away from Amber Liu for a little bit.”

Amber ran her fingers through her blonde hair, blinked her eyes a few times more until she was able to finally meet the warm smile of her dear friend.

“Vic… Are you for real?”  Amber copped the envelope on the table and holds it in front of her, “You’re really quitting?  Like…you’re really leaving me?  And by the way, what you just said—that hurt.”

Giggling, Victoria reached and went for the cheeks.  Pinching them were her way of expressing her unconditional love and support for her young friend.  “I’m not leaving you.  I’m just…leaving you.”

“Oww!”  Grabbing the older girl’s hand from her cheek, in almost a pathetic plea she knew she was not worthy of requesting, she had to try, “Vic…is there anything I can do to make you stay?”

Victoria lays herself comfortably next to Amber.  She snuggles closely to her.  No moment sooner did nostalgia settle in the room in the same fashion.

Victoria has cared for Amber her whole life as they’ve grown up together as kids.  She has been her manager for the last three years and she’s seen it all.  She’s seen the best of Amber and sadly, she’s seen the worst.  She loved her friend deeply and cared for her equally.  Consequently, watching her friend spiral out of control has come to a point of unpalatable.  But don’t get it wrong, her resignation wasn’t a threat.  It wasn’t an ultimatum she was trying to thwart in hopes to motivate her friend to change.  It was something she had resolved to do.  If anything, this was a final parting gift, the best she could do for her best friend.  It was for the best—for Amber’s best—her life’s focus for the past three years.

“Am… Remember when we were driving around Hollywood and you just got done performing at a midsize local theatre,” Amber now nestled herself close to Victoria. “I remember you were ranting about the adrenaline of performing for the first time in that crowd.  There was like eight-hundred—wait wasn’t it like close to like a thousand people?”

“Nine-hundred and fifty-two people,” Amber chuckles at the vivid memory that felt like a moment from yesterday.

“Right.  And while we were driving, the radio was playing in the background and suddenly we hear your single play for the first time and man…the look on your face was something I will never forget.”

Amber’s heart felt heavy.  The heaviness was far from the feeling of sadness or regret.  However, the heaviness felt acutely painful for it unlocked a gated prison in her heart that kept captive an old nature that was once her.  It was a reminder, a sentimental image that enveloped the soul.  It had the weighted glint of memory that evoked that kind of heaviness.

“Am…I’m not leaving you.  I will always be Jie—your sister, your supporter and your biggest fan.  I just think it’s time, you know.  It’s time for me to go.  And as long as I stick around, I don’t think you’ll ever grow.”  Victoria faced Amber and squeezed her cheek one more time, “This is the best thing I could do for you.”

Amber is beginning to sense that people around her are finally noticing her bluff.  But it’s not enough to scratch her hubris.  She won’t ask for anyone to stay.  She won’t beg.  And she won’t deprive others of their peace just because she has her own battle raging inside of her.  She cares for them that much.  Her hubris is flawed that much.

Just as flashes of thunder would erupt when a storm is brewing in the distance, flashes of Krystal erupted in her thoughts in this moment of despair.

She lets out a scoff attached with irony then whispers, “You sound like Krystal.”

Victoria takes it as an utmost compliment for she knew, “Well…That’s because she loved you too.”

Loved.  Keyword:  Loved.

In the studio, a continuous looped track can be heard resonating in the room.  Two months later after Victoria’s departure and her promise to daily call Amber and Jackson, it has somewhat improved or rather, caused a slight—very slight—positive impetus of change in Amber’s volatile life.  Amber was back in the studio, a promising news for Jackson and the rest of the SM management.  Slight and diminutive in that, Amber has yet to write a complete song.

“.  .  .  .  .  .”  She poked a hole through the music sheet with each curse word, on beat and on rhythm at that.  One last, “!” before she crumpled the paper, throwing it to the other side of the room, joining the mountain pile of discarded music sheets.

Jackson snickered to himself as he sat comfortably on the couch, with his legs propped on top of the coffee table, as he was busily skimming through emails on his tablet.  This was a perfect opportunity to jab at his friend’s frustration and also ease the tension in the room, “That sounds like a hit.  I don’t know if they’ll ever play that on the radio though.”

Amber’s frustration all her energy to even jab back.  In a tired and sunken motion, she shuts her laptop and props herself next to Jackson on the couch.

“We got to go to your pictorial interview soon anyways,” Jackson informed her.

“And by the way,” Jackson set his tablet down, returning his body to regular sitting position and returning to his duty from friend to manager.  Jackson poked Amber who had her legs propped at the coffee table, arm resting on the armrest and her faced buried in her hand as she massaged her temples.  “I already informed them ahead of time.  No Krystal questions.  No Cara questions.  No drug or alcohol or trouble-with-the-law related questions.”

“Cara?” she turned her head at her manager.  “What about Cara?”

Jackson reached for the tablet and showed her the headline of a recent tabloid that read, “Amber Liu and Cara Delevingne Dating.”

Scoffing in amusement, Amber just shook her head and returned to her previous position.

“Well…her Instagram post of the two of you isn’t helping.”

Amber scoffed once again at the ridiculous dating rumor.  Pictures are worth more than a thousand words these days.  They’re worth fan bases, which translates into your marketing plan, which translates into your cultural relevance, which translates into your net worth, at least in this world of entertainment business.

As far as apathy goes, Amber has mastered its art.  “Whatever.”

“Amber, we hear that you’re back in the studios these days.  Is there a particular inspiration, person or thing that has caused that creative spark that fans all around the world have been waiting for more than a year for?”

These interviewers are getting wittier with their framing and shrewd in their talent of questioning.  Regardless, Amber has done a plethora of these kinds of interviews and has, therefore, developed the finesse skill of dodging and deflecting.

In a measured, polished and practiced fashion, she answers, “Honestly, my inspiration have been the fans.  It’s been more than a year since I’ve last put out an album.  I’m itching to stand on stage again,” not really, “I’m ready to share some new music,” what new music, “and I’m dying to meet my fans again,” sure.

“Even though you’ve been in a hiatus after your last tour, you’ve still managed to be a trending topic in social media earning you the award of the most searched person on the Internet this year.  You’re very young, very talented and very impressionable.  How do you deal with that kind of popularity, that kind of spotlight and attention on every detail of your life, especially the highlights on the negative ones?”

Restraining a condescending scoff, she proceeded to take crack at the answer, “Well…it’s definitely difficult to have that kind of pressure be put on anyone.  Like you said, I’m young, I’m a regular twenty year old with typical twenty year old tendencies and impulses.  I won’t make excuses for the dumb decisions I’ve made but I’m still here, breathing, alive and momentarily sane so I must be doing at least one thing right in my life when it comes to dealing with all the sh—I mean, things—that I deal with on daily basis.”  The interviewer let out an easing laugh, indicating somewhat of a successful response of the question.  Despite of the almost-slip up, Jackson couldn’t be any prouder of how his talent has handled the question.

“Speaking of dumb decisions…” Oh , she thinks, “Could you share with us an example and what you’ve learned from that certain experience?”

Flashes of thunder—flashes of Krystal—inundated her system.  Jackson holds his breath while Amber bites her lower lip.  Pushing dangerous spiraling thoughts aside, Amber inhaled a great deal before exhaling a sigh.  She sat straighter and with a slick grin, she coolly answers, “I would say…getting involve with the cops out of convoluted arrogance is one stupid example of mine.  I was an idiot to even have the thought cross through my mind that I could push a cop and get away with it.  So kids,” Amber looks dashingly at the camera recording the interview and says, “Never cross a law-enforcer.  You may think it’s cool but listen to your mom when she tells you it’s stupid.”  For those watching and listening, it elicited laughter.  For Jackson, it prompted somewhat of a relief.  And for Amber, the question latched itself onto her mind like a leech— thoughts, feelings.

“Last question and let me just say, I just have to ask.  At the upcoming Billboard Awards, I hear you’re presenting an award.  Are you bringing a date?  There are rumors that you are.”

Snapping her out of her thoughts was an incredulous question hinting at the dating subject that always finds itself in interviews without fail.  However, it was simple enough for her to answer.  With succinct poise she retorts, “Nope.  I’m going solo.”

Amber has decided: I need to get out of L.A.  There’s this song playing on loop in her thoughts these days.  It goes something like this…

I’m gonna steer clear

I’d burn up in your atmosphere

I’m gonna steer clear

Cause I’d die if I saw you

I’d die if I didn’t see you there

She’d play it on her car stereo.  She’d play it on her portable speaker.  She’d play on her entertainment system.  She’d play it in her studio.  And she’d play it in her mind.  And when the song ends she thinks, you John Mayer.  you very much.

“Get me a condo in New York, ASAP.  I don’t care if it isn’t furnished.  I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to!” She demanded at Jackson who was watching her frantically pace back and forth in her Malibu beach house.  “Like…I gotta get outta here…Like on the next flight, if that’s possible.”

She’s dead serious too.  She has grabbed and filled her suitcase with clothes and she was ready to steer clear or burn up in her atmosphere indeed.

Krystal has been living in L.A.  She’s in billboards.  She’s filming her movie.  She’s hanging out at the familiar places and restaurants.  And she’s hanging out with mutual friends.

Amber is moments away from driving to her house and she’s teetering a very fine line where sanity and emotional instability are slowly getting blurred.  She has told herself for the past two months that in under no circumstance should she ever think of pursuing the dangerous path of chasing after her again.  But knowing she’s a thirty minute drive away and knowing that she’s within mutual friend and path-crossing distance, she’s got to get out of that godforsaken city before she does what she doesn’t have self-control to not do.

“God, I need a smoke,” she rummages through a drawer.

As she pulls it out, Jackson intercepts the package of cigarettes and dramatically steps outside of the porch and chucked the damned thing towards the ocean.

“What the hell—”

“Amber—relax!  I’m setting you up right now.  There’s a flight to New York in three hours.  And if we’re lucky, we can get there even with the L.A. traffic.  So could you calm the freak down and breathe for a second?” Jackson’s stress level was through the roof reasonably so.  Amber is a roller coaster and she’s approaching a steep drop that’s only driving her anxiety level high.  Jackson’s right there, next to her, in that proverbial rollercoaster, and the same anxiety is present to same level of degree and impact.

Moving to New York?  Buying a condo?  All in under twenty-four hours?  This was no easy task for a manager but an even more challenging task for a friend.

Despite the ridiculous demand, Jackson would rather put up with hellish ordeal now than to deal with a grander aftermath of what could happen if the two do cross paths here in L.A.  It’s inevitable anyways.  In two weeks, they’ll walk the same red carpet, present on the same stage, and sit in the same auditorium for three hours at the same award show.  But Jackson thinks, I’d rather deal with one episode than deal with the possibility of multiple episodes between now and two weeks from now.  So New York, here we come.

“You won’t be able to avoid her forever, you know.” Jackson said, hinting at the event.

“Trust me, if I wanted to avoid her, I would have been in that plane to New York two months ago.”  The truth is, Amber knew herself too well.  She wanted to see her.  She wanted to run into her.  She wanted to hear about her.

“So why now?”

“Because I’m tired of hoping I would see her…like she’s here but she’s not because where she is, I can be, but I’m not.”

“Then just go see her.”

Chuckling at Jackson’s half-hearted suggestion, she quips, “Yeah.  I know you don’t mean that.”

Nodding his head, chuckling back, he answers, “You’re right, I don’t.  It’s the tiest idea that’s ever come out of my mouth.”

“Well then my reliable, encouraging, best friend of a manager; get me the hell out of L.A.”

A/N:  Stay tuned for a quick update.  ^_^