The Party

My hands grip the railing of the balcony as I overlook the Gatsby style party I’m throwing.

People are happy. Laughing, drinking, splashing around in the pool.

My eyes scan the crowd as if looking for my own Daisy Buchanan. Each person has their own story, but they’re all here tonight working on having a good time and leaving their sorrowed pasts behind.

A beach ball gets tossed around in the pool.

The booming laugh of the man everyone, including myself, has been waiting for rings through the air. But I still haven’t seen him. He came from downstairs and is likely under the balcony I’m standing on.

All of this is in his honor. The decorations and conversations almost match his splendor, but he’s who brought everyone here. Without him, this all means nothing.

Heads turn as whispers raise into the air, probably talking about Cal. Heads turn, trying to catch a glimpse of the man of the hour— or evening I should say. I’m not sure how many people who received an invite know Cal on a personal level and how many have just heard of him.

His name is known around the country, probably even the world, but in this city it’s like he’s a religious figure. I swear the church down the street is for Cal instead of Jesus. Stuff like that is why I stopped attending church.

But maybe I’m just as bad as them. I threw this party in honor of him. I ordered a life sized ice sculpture of him. I’ve caught multiple people licking the sculpture as if it has magical powers. Honestly it’s degrading towards him and makes all these people look desperate.

Finally, Cal emerges from under the balcony. I can hear his loud voice say, “This party is great! I’ve never seen something so extravagant. Even a tour kickoff party.”

The smaller man Cal’s with doesn’t say much, just nods. I recognize him as Cal’s manager who I’ve been in contact with for about a couple of months now getting all of this planned.

It was easy to pretend to be an event venue in the area who wanted to host a party for our town hero.

His manager agreed with no questions asked.

I look down to see my knuckles have turned white. I quickly release the strangled railing and turn over my hands to see the red indents in my palms.

I’ve been obsessed with Cal since my junior year of high school. He was the hot senior everyone had a crush on. We sat next to each other in physics and he was always flirting with me. Taking my stuff, littering my notebooks with terrible, corny lyrics.

I should have known then that he’d take everything from me.

It’s been twenty years and I’m still obsessed with him. Just not in the same way I used to be. I’m not a seventeen year old girl with raging hormones. Instead, I’m a thirty-seven year old woman who’s had plenty of time to build up her rage and anger.

Despite having twenty years to plan and prepare, I’m still not sure what I’m going to say when I get the chance. It’s crowded, everyone swarming Cal. His adoring fans who love his music and his body.

A small group of women join me on the balcony, staring down at the extravagance of it all. Everyone thinks it’s for Cal, but really it’s for all of us. All of us who have been used by him to further his career.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he sold his soul to the devil too, but that’s not the point.

He got close to me in high school so he could steal my song book I had worked on for years. He turned around and profited off of them, launching his career. The craziest part is I would have written him any song he wanted to sing if he would have just given me credit, but instead, he stole them, calling them his own.

Each of the girls—whose hands I’m now holding— on the balcony with me were treated the same by Cal. Stole our innocence and our music.

“Can we have your attention,” I speak confidently into the microphone and everyone’s eyes shift from Cal’s face to mine.

I make direct eye contact with him and I watch his face fall, recognizing each of us.

With a deep breath, I’m ready to give him a piece of my mind. To turn all of these partygoers against him. They’ll never see him as their savior again.