Chapter 12

12

H arper would normally have somebody else do the unpacking for her. Especially after a long work trip like this, she would like nothing more than to curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and rewatch something comforting like Bound.

She needed to think, and that meant having something to do with her hands. Italy was wonderful, but travelling for business was never the same as a vacation. Harper couldn't afford to walk around the Milan airport in sweatpants and a t-shirt when two hours later she would be guiding a press group to a boardroom in Verona. She was always put together, always on high alert and always in control, at least, until Mia had called her while she was in Verona.

A few months earlier, before Harper had even met Mia, she had gotten incredible news; one of her artists, a New Jersey-based singer-actress-dancer, had gotten a role in a new film version of Romeo and Juliet . She already had a huge following and experience on Broadway, but this would be her film debut. Now that filming had wrapped and the news had been made public, the press tour had spanned the length and breadth of Northern Italy and taken her far away from Mia. She hadn't stepped back completely, instead handing off most of the work to Carson. He was a hard-working kid, always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, and very eager to learn. He would treat Mia well.

So, she had been able to focus on the logistics of a bilingual, multimedia press tour without worrying too much about what was going on at home. It was lucky that they had translators, otherwise she would have been completely out of her depth. Italy had been just as beautiful as when she had last visited, and her brief stopover in Verona had been nothing short of magical—cobbled streets and starry night skies straight out of a fantasy.

Still, now that she was back, she couldn't distract herself. Alone for the first time in weeks, she had only one person on her mind. She had missed Mia more intensely on the trip than she had when she was at home, and in quiet moments on empty streets she would wish for Mia beside her.

She was dressed down, in a pair of sweatpants and a white t-shirt, and it made her feel less like Huntress and more like… a person. That character was useful, certainly, but it wasn't her. Huntress was power suits and hats that split a crowd like the Red Sea. Harper… Harper wasn't totally sure what she was. She was lucky. She was headstrong and had learned to be that way because otherwise women like her weren't listened to. She had risen to the top of her profession and had more money than she honestly knew what to do with. She was alone on the top of the world and had nobody to share the satisfaction with.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

Oh, good, the dry cleaning. "You can leave it in the hallway, thank you!" she called. The knocking continued. The concierge staff normally have keys, she thought as she walked down the hall, grabbing her satin robe and putting it on as she went. Reaching for the doorknob, she started with "Thank you, you can leave the bags out here?—"

It wasn't a member of staff with her laundry at the door. It was Mia, in a leather jacket and ripped jeans… and a shirt with her face on it.

"Hello, Harper," she said, stepping through the doorway before Harper could invite her in. Her voice was airy. Detached.

"Hello, Mia," she replied, matching her tone. If this is how we're doing things, then fine. "I wasn't expecting to see you here… How have you been?"

"I've been busy. Playing shows, getting my photo taken, going to interviews. It's been fun."

"Has it really?" Harper asked coldly. "You've made lots of new friends?—"

"Most of them were introduced to me by you."

Shit.

A beat passed where neither woman said anything, standing in the hallway, the door open. Mia, sporting her own merchandise, evidence of her success and power. Harper, dressed down in a way that was comfortable moments before. Now she felt naked.

Mia reached past Harper, grabbing the door and gently swinging it shut. Then, she walked down the hallway into the living room.

This girl... who does she think she is? Harper took a deep breath and followed her. If there was a conversation that needed to happen, it needed to happen then and there. Mia was on the sofa, sitting in the same spot she had sat in that first night when the contract was signed, her jacket over the arm of the chair. Harper stayed standing, looking down at Mia, cat-like and faux-calm. It was faux calm, too, because Harper saw Mia's freshly-done nails scratching at the fabric of the sofa like morse code, saying more with the sound than she had so far with words. She was obviously and hopelessly scared, masking it with the sensuality and devil-may-care attitude she normally had on stage. This, more than anything else, snapped Harper out of her own fake neutrality.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Harper said, shaking her head slowly, arms crossed. Mia's breath turned shaky, and her eyes didn't quite meet Harper's when she replied.

"You did, Harper. You changed my life."

"This isn't your life."

"Yes, it is, it's what you have done to me!"

"It's what you've been doing, it's what you've chosen, you've worked hard for it and now it's yours!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Harper registered that this was upsetting Mia, but she needed to get through to her. She had made a mistake, she knew that now, but she wasn't the only one at fault here.

"This isn't what I wanted! I wanted my music to mean something, I wanted to be able to live while doing what I love without having to worry about picking up shifts at strange bars because I want to live somewhere that isn't an attic . Harper, I'm living out of hotel rooms instead."

Mia stood so she could look Harper in the eyes, and Harper had never seen her so frustrated.

Harper started slowly. "Mia, you were fully absorbed into that life of partying. I didn't think I would be able to get you out."

"One word from you would have convinced me to stop!"

"Except you didn't respond when I tried, did you? I saw you once, one time, and all you could talk about was yourself and how much fun you were having."

Harper was trying not to yell, but her facade was slipping and she didn't care. She needed Mia to know.

"I barely thought of anything but you, I didn't see you for a fucking week. I was scared , Mia, I was so scared?—"

She took Mia by the shoulders, looking straight into her eyes.

"I was worried something had happened to you ."

Mia's eyes went wide. This wasn't something she had considered, Harper thought. Here she had been, anxiously waiting by the phone while Mia was out having fun, Harper not even considering it because she had heard too many horror stories of bright new industry talents being damaged beyond repair at parties exactly like that.

"You think I would be able to live like that, thinking I had thrown you to the wolves?"

Mia, so slowly you would think she had frozen, brought her hands to her shoulders, gently bringing Harper's hands down and holding them softly.

"I'm sorry. I really am—no, don't look at me like that, I am. Still, it's difficult talking about this when I haven't heard from you in weeks."

Harper's face crumpled, her breath hitching briefly. A pit formed in her stomach.

"That was the one thing I promised to never do... and I did it."

Mia nodded as Harper drew her hands away, knotting the tie of her robe and toying with the end of the satin belt.

"I can't lie to you, Harper, that really fucked me up. It did. I had no idea what was going on with you, and I barely knew anybody else I was working with. It's a little easier now that I know some people, but the support would have been nice," Mia finished.

"What about your family back home?" asked Harper, feeling desperate and a little sick.

"The time difference is pretty significant. Any time I'm around for a call they're all in bed, or the reverse. I haven't had many gaps in my schedule, either."

Harper couldn't bear the thought of Mia alone with these feelings and having nobody to turn to. She thought back to when she was at a rooftop bar in Verona with the new cast of Romeo and Juliet and got a sudden call from Mia. The way she had thought the silence on the other line was because she had lost signal. The way she had heard what she thought was a hiccup at the end of the line.

Mia had been crying, alone, and the only person she had thought to call was Harper. Harper had said to only call back if it was important when called away by the movie's director, and Mia never did. Had she not felt important enough to justify taking up Harper's time? Apparently not. Weeks ago, Harper was here, overcome with the romantic idea that the only thing that could make her content was seeing Mia happy, and here she was, realizing she had failed.

"Oh... Oh God, Mia, how can I make it up to you?"

Mia was quiet, and Harper's chest felt cavernous. There was a space there where Mia was normally, but the resignation in her eyes was telling Harper that she wanted nothing to do with it, with the love she had for Mia. Because that's what this was, Harper couldn't deny it any more. All she could do was watch it slip away.

"These shirts are so fucking ugly, anything you can do about that?" Mia joked, pulling Harper out of her thoughts. She got a good look at the t-shirt for the first time. It was a black shirt with a black-and-white print of Mia's face taken from the side, with her name framing the image in a ransom-note-style magazine cutout font. It was, as Mia had put it, so fucking ugly. Harper giggled, which made Mia laugh, and before they knew it, they were both on the sofa, sitting side-by-side and laughing together. This felt better. This almost felt like it had felt before.

"I'll see about taking on a new graphic designer for the merchandise, we can't be putting out this phony Sex Pistols shit," Harper declared, and Mia lit up, smiling from ear to ear. "As for your schedule, you let me know what times you need to be free and I'll make it happen."

The difficult part was coming next, but the moment was too sweet to let go just yet. Mia didn't seem to be on the same page, though, and she shifted towards Harper with an unreadable expression on her face. Harper drew breath.

"If you'll have me, I'd like to stay representing you. I'll keep in contact with you, we'll collaborate on a schedule instead of having me block-booking everybody I can find. I'll be here to support you..."

Harper felt like a coward. She couldn't even bring herself to say it. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Mia was now on the same page.

"You will be here to support me professionally ."

Harper nodded, noticing that Mia immediately stiffened up, moving away from her on the sofa.

Fuck. She had already started; there was no use in turning back now.

"I will still be around to support you, I promise. Reach out whenever you need me, even for the stupid stuff, especially for the stupid stuff because I know how confusing this can be and I want to help you." Harper thought she was making a strong case. She almost believed herself as she went on. "I'll be there at your big shows, festival sets, arenas in a few months time with any luck, and I'll be cheering you on from side stage."

Mia nodded, breathing heavily and avoiding eye contact. Harper leaned over to take her hand, but Mia stood and grabbed her jacket, smiling as if Harper couldn't see tears welling up in her eyes.

"This isn't the end," Harper said, trying her best to sound reassuring. "I will still be here." I will still be here to love you at arm's length.

"I'm sure it's for the b-best, really," said Mia, stumbling over her words and visibly trying to keep her smile intact. "Your support means more to me than you will ever know, Harper, and I can't thank you enough." Mia reached out her hand for a handshake.

How very businesslike. Harper took it, both women squeezing tightly and holding on for a little longer than needed.

"I can let you out, I'm sure you have places to be?—"

"No, no, I can show myself out, don't worry, you must be tired from travelling. It was good to see you again."

"You too," said Harper, sitting up on the sofa so she could watch Mia leave. She most likely wouldn't be seeing her again for another while. Harper would miss her while she was gone. Harper would miss her while she was three feet away.

Harper would miss her for the rest of her life. But she knew this was for the best. It couldn't go on so complicated.

Mia turned back at the door, smiling at Harper in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes. She wasn't crying yet.

"Thank you again, Harper," she called, before walking through the doorway.

As the door clicked shut behind Mia, Harper paused for breath, making sure Mia was far enough down the hall to not hear it when she started crying. She wept into her hands, curling into a ball on the sofa and shuddering. She felt hollow, like she had seen a part of herself slip away. She didn't get to sleep until hours later, and still, she lay in the middle of her queen-sized bed so she couldn't feel an empty space beside her while she cried. Seeing Mia would be torture, sure, but as Harper drifted off to sleep one thought reassured her.

Not seeing her at all would have been so much worse.