Everyone has baggage, but it's certainly not Selina's job to carry it for them.
*****
Radio talk show host Selina Locke was just looking for a peaceful summer in sunny Barcelona, but...
( — billy joel; american singer-songwriter, composer, and pianist. )
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"SO, I COMPLETELY SCREWED UP," Selina announces, as she steps inside her apartment with a much steadier voice than one would have if they had just spent the past twenty minutes sobbing on the other side of the front door. "But what else is new? What haven't I ruined, exactly?"
Ethan, who has graced the living room with his presence instead of spending the entire day hiding in his office, raises his stare from the blinding light coming from the screen of his laptop. "I take it brunch didn't go as planned. Are you that hungover? Because, speaking from past experience, you're not the best company for brunch after an entire day of filling yourself with booze."
Selina throws him a deadpan look, one that, hopefully, lets him know she's not in the mood for joking around without actually having to say it. "Love is dead, Ethan. Nothing matters anymore. Absolutely nothing."
"Um, excuse me? Last time I checked, two of our best friends got married yesterday, after months and months of back and forth, and we even thought the wedding wasn't going to happen, but they beat all expectations. Are you seriously going to tell me that doesn't matter?"
Defeated, Selina falls to a couch and pulls her knees close to her chest. "Love is dead for me. I ruin everything, even this." She sniffles as hot tears sting the corners of her eyes, as though she hasn't cried enough already. "Remus is gone, Ethan. I doubt he's ever coming back."
Ethan's face softens and he finally gets up to walk up to her. "Are you serious?"
"Dead." A lone tear, stubborn and salty, rolls down her cheek and she has no time to wipe it away before he sits next to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders. She feels horrible, like a child who has no idea what to do with all these emotions as they overflow. "I don't know what to do."
"What happened?"
"I screwed up." She sniffles and he tightens the hold around her, cradling her like a baby. "I got scared, Ethan. Everything was fine—everything was perfect—but then I started thinking about all the ways it could go wrong, about how similar it was to what my parents went through, and . . ." She groans. "I made the mistake about asking about how the album is going. There's a song about me, based on something I told him when I was drunk, and I knew he was going to include it in the album, but . . ."
"But?"
"But then he said the band had a meeting with their management team and everyone agreed on letting me be part of the process. That means Charles Ricci knows about Remus and me."
