Tip of The Iceberg

“When was I born?”

“June 24th, 1997. You”re going to have to dig deeper than that if you want to win.”

“Win? I thought we were just having fun,” she teased. “So, when were you born?”

“November 12th, 2002,” I admitted. For some reason, when I told people my birthday, they’d freak out, assuming I was thirteen. Most people knew I wasn’t actually a teenager, but everyone couldn”t help but feel like 2002 was just yesterday and that there was no way someone born in 2002 could be twenty-one turning twenty-two.

“Aw, you”re just a baby.”

“Oh, fuck you!” I laughed. “As you once said in an interview, I’m about a thousand times older than I look.”

When Lexi was younger, she did an interview on the red carpet while at the Kids Choice Awards. Someone had asked her where she got the inspiration to create all the deep and meaningful songs that she had written. She answered that she drew from real-life experiences, to which the interviewer laughed and countered that she couldn’t have possibly been through that much while still being so young. That’s when I learned you should never relate age to life experience. Some ten-year-olds had been through more than others who were twice their age.

“You know about that interview?” She asked genuinely. “Okay, maybe you do win this game.”

I snapped my fingers as I ignored her comment, “Next question, please. I’m on a roll.”

Lexi pondered for a while before asking, “What job did I say I wanted when I was a kid before I became a singer?”

“A tattoo artist, even though you have no tattoos,” I chuckled.

“Maybe in the future,” she smirked. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a nurse.”

“Oh wow, can you look at this spot on my butt?” Lexi poked fun while flashing her award-winning smile.

“Fuck off!” I let out a boisterous laugh. Smirking at her, I added, “Actually, you know what? I will have a look.”

Lexi belted out a loud “HA!” clearly not expecting my previous comment. “You”re too funny,” she said sarcastically while shooting daggers at me with her eyes. “Why a nurse?”

“Medicine is something that has always interested me, and I loved the idea of helping people.”

“Loved in the past tense?”

“As I got older, I realized some people don”t deserve to be helped,” I stated flatly. “I wish I could go back to when I was a teenager and pick a different career path.”

“I have a feeling this isn”t just about some random, mean patient.”

“You”d be correct,” I sharply replied, ending the conversation there.

She looked at me questioningly before deciding against pushing the topic further. Taking the hint, she continued with another question.

“What are the names of my two best friends?”

I pursed my lips, then answered, “According to the internet, your two best friends are Danielle Ciaro and Nolan Carter.”

“Wow, I’ll give you a slow clap for that one,” she applauded. Lexi half smiled and nodded her head, then motioned toward me, prompting an answer of my own.

“Oh, me?” I asked. “Well, I have work-best friends.” I didn’t have time to meet anyone else. I wasn’t the type to go to bars or mingle online. The only place for adults to really meet was at work. Not that I ever even really wanted to go out and seek friendships. People could be assholes sometimes. I”d always been comfortable being alone. That was, until I needed a shoulder to lean on, which I would never admit to, anyway. “The coworker I am closest to is Natalia. It’s funny, though, because we actually didn’t like each other at first.”

I met Natalia around a year ago. When I first started, she was the nurse who trained me. I didn’t like her much during the beginning because of her strict teaching style. As time went on, we grew closer as I began to learn more about her, and she learned more about me.

“If you don”t know what you”re doing, you need to tell me because we can’t afford to make mistakes here,” she demanded while breaking open the ampule.

“You’ve said that already,” I mumbled as I continued to draw up the epinephrine.

“Make sure you”re careful with the needle. You don’t want to end up pricking your—” she stopped mid-sentence. “Ow!”

Looking over at her, I noticed her finger dripping with blood as she sat the needle down. I laughed in victory while continuing to prepare my epi.

“Maybe you should take your own advice.” She began mumbling curse words under her breath. Walking toward the sink, she rinsed the wound, and bandaged her finger before returning to my side. “This is the story of how the student becomes the mast—”

All of a sudden, a sharp pain radiated through my hand. I had poked my thumb with the needle. A stifled laugh echoed from beside me. I pursed and turned to look at Natalia. I was met with her smug expression as she stood with her hands on her hips.

“What were you saying?” She raised her eyebrow.

We broke out into a fit of laughter as the tension between us lifted.

“You think we can get workers-comp for this?” I speculated while grinning.

That was how we learned that we had similar personalities. It was the beginning of an odd friendship since Natalia was fifteen years older than me, but it worked, nonetheless. Natalia was slightly shorter than me at 5”2, but still way more intimidating than I”d ever be. She had long black hair with dark eyes and frequently wore an expression that looked as though she could murder you at any minute. She was the only person I ever considered opening up to about my dad. When I told my coworkers about his passing, she was the only one who didn’t try to spew positive comments at me but rather support how I was feeling. That’s what I truly needed. Just before I left to catch my flight, she gave me a tight hug and made me promise I”d call her if I needed to talk. She also told me I didn’t have to be afraid to open up to her about my dad. Maybe after all this was over, I’d take her up on that offer.

Lexi brought me back to reality by waving her hand in front of my face, as I clearly had not been paying attention to her question.

“If I’m that boring, I can leave and go back to the other side of the room.”

“Lexi Harlow is many things, but boring is definitely not one of them.”

“Oh, yeah, then what exactly am I?”

Without hesitation, I began, “Witty, sarcastic, funny, successful, vocally gifted, lyrical genius, inspirational, badass bitch—” For every characteristic, I put up a finger, counting each one then pausing almost as if I were pondering which words to say next…but I wasn”t. I knew exactly what I wanted to say because those were things I had always thought about her. Now, it was just a matter of if I should say them or not. I could see her lips curl into a smile from the corner of my eyes, and that was the only sign I needed to keep going. “And Lexi?” Pausing one more time, I stifled a breath as I continued, “You are so beautiful. In every single fucking way.”

Her eyes lit up at my words as she quickly averted her gaze. “Thank you,” she smiled in response, her cheeks tinged with pink.

Did I just make Lexi Harlow blush?

“Aw, are you blushing?”

“Shut up. Next question.” I could almost see her physically racking her brain trying to come up with something to ask before I could interject. “Uh, what are my dog”s names?”

“Nemo and—” I stuttered while frantically recollecting everything I knew about her. I even knew her stupid fucking bra size because of some celebrity gossip website and I didn’t know her dogs name? “Shit, I don’t know.”

“Wow,” Lexi sighed. “Wow, I’m disappointed,” she shook her head and clicked her tongue.

“Okay, now you shut up,” I glared at her with a smile on my face.

“Dori.”

Dori?Huh? Oh, her dog”s name! That was right! She named them after the two fish in Finding Nemo. How could I forget? There was a whole sequel to the first movie called Finding Dori.

“Oh! I knew that!” I yelled, mentally slapping myself.

Slowly nodding while focusing her gaze on the floor, Lexi’s voice oozed with sarcasm. “Sure, you did.”

I pursed my lips and glared at her. “What”s your question then?”

“Do you have any pets?”

“As much as I want to, I don’t have enough time to take care of one.”

“Yeah, I get that,” she acknowledged while nodding her head. “What are my two sisters” names?”

“Caroline and Hazel,” I recalled easily. It always seemed like Lexi and her sisters were close. It must’ve been nice having someone to lean on when you needed support, and it probably helped that they were only a few doors down the hallway.

“Do you have any siblings?” She asked, mirroring the question about herself.

“A half-sister, Camilla. But she’s dead to me,” I shrugged, numb to the sentiment.

“What happened?” She stopped and then followed up with, “If you don”t mind me asking.”

For some reason, this small part of my chaotic life never phased me much. Camilla was never truly a part of my family, so her absence didn’t hurt. The real problem was that, in order to talk about Camilla, I’d also have to bring up my father. That was the actual sore subject. Still, it only seemed fair to answer Lexi’s question, seeing as how I knew so much about her and she knew nothing about me. Besides, if I dodged every question, she would, too.

With that thought in mind, I spoke, “It’s nothing crazy. She just never tried to get to know me when she had the resources to, and I lacked them.”

Camila and I had an age difference of twelve years. My father had another child with his high school girlfriend at age nineteen, which was ten years before he met my mother. I first learned that she existed because of a picture he had in his wallet when I was five. Since she didn’t live with us, I asked if they had kicked her out of the house because she was acting bad. That”s when my mom had to explain that my sister lived with her mom—a different mom.

“She didn’t want to have a relationship with you?” Lexi asked, trying to understand. “Why?”

“She always blamed my mom for our dad”s spiral into insanity, but her anger was misplaced. The person she should’ve blamed was our father. I mean, cool, if she wants to take out her frustration on me and my mom, that’s fine, but I can”t have any kind of relationship with someone who refuses to open their eyes and see what the hell is actually going on,” I stated, my face morphing into an emotionless state.

I could understand the anger of a broken family, but it wasn’t my fault, and it certainly wasn’t my mother”s fault. There was always one common denominator when it came to pain—my dad. He abandoned everyone he was supposed to love.

“Insane dads…” Lexi trailed off. “I know a thing or two about that.”

It’s true. Lexi’s relationship with her dad was one of pain and trauma. Her whole life was on display for the public to view, and because of that, it was common knowledge what happened between her and her father. He was abusive toward her mother. As far as we know, he never laid a finger on Lexi or her sisters, but that didn’t mean they didn’t witness the abuse toward their mother. Lexi always said she never had a strong relationship with him because he always chose alcohol over her family. He died in 2015 after getting into a bad car accident while under the influence. It was Lexi and her mom who heard the news first. They were at the recording studio and rushed to the scene of the accident. When they arrived, it was too late. Her dad was lying lifeless on the ground with a black tarp covering his legs. If there was anyone who could understand the pain I had with my dad, it was Lexi.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, knowing of the pain she was referring to.

“I’m sorry too,” she said in connection with the trauma I had with my father.

“Hey, I was thinking of starting a club,” I suggested, lightening the mood. Raising an eyebrow, Lexi motioned for me to go on. “It will be a ‘Daddy Issues Club,’ and I think I just found the first two members,” I chuckled, pointing toward the both of us.

Lexi let out a small laugh as she smiled. “Your lame joke is just what I needed, so thank you.”

“And that”s exactly why I said it.” I smiled back.

“You know I have a song called Daddy Issues.”

“Have I not just proven that I’m your number one fan? Of course, I know that.”

“Well, then I think that should be our club anthem.”

“I like the way you think. We can even meet on Saturdays in this bathroom to discuss our shitty circumstances.”

We both laughed trying to make light of something that used to be shrouded in pain. Sometimes it helped. Then I saw Lexi’s facial expression change.

“So, why exactly are you in the airport today? Where are you headed to?”

The lightness of our conversation became heavy.

“I’m actually on my way to a funeral.” I immediately followed up with a question of my own to avoid talking about my father. “Where are you headed?”

Lexi opened her mouth slightly, then paused as if she wanted to ask more about the funeral but decided against it. “I have an interview scheduled with a radio station and a new music video to shoot,” she stated simply.

“Probably going to have to postpone it now, then, huh?”

Before she could respond, the same loud, booming voice from earlier echoed outside the door. “Lexi, just checking in. Are you still doing okay in there?”

“We are doing fine,” she yelled back, emphasizing the “we” as she spoke. “You know you don”t have to check in on me every two seconds, right?”

“I just wanted to let you know that Andrew said he talked to airport management and the lead security guard. They contacted the local fire department, and they are on their way. The debris is too heavy to move without some sort of machinery.”

“Thanks, Brian,” Lexi nodded in response, even though he couldn”t see this.

Well, at least now I know their names are Brian and Andrew.

Lexi waited a minute with her ear pointed at the door as if she were making sure he wasn”t nearby anymore, then asked, “So, whose funeral are you going to?”