The Edge of Glory

All I have to say is that it's Julie's fault.

What's Julie's fault? you may ask.

Just the fact she wasn't watching the road and then suddenly swerved when a deer bounded across our path. Now, that left our van teetering over the edge of massive cliff with no escape. One movement, one breath exhaled the wrong way, would send us spiraling into oblivion.

The last people I would ever see were my bandmates.

Julie, my sister and lead singer.

Todd, my boyfriend and bass player.

And Enrique, our drummer.

Julie and Todd sat frozen in the front seats, heads angled as far back from the windshield and our plummeting deaths as they could. Enrique was holding onto the "oh shit" handle adjacent to me with both hands; my own hands were wrapped tightly around my seat belt as if that would do anything.

"Oh god, oh god," Julie wailed.

I could see her shoulders shaking and almost scolded her for moving, but found that my entire body was wound so tight I couldn't even will myself to speak. The muscles in my thighs were beginning to scream from such tension.

"Rosie . . . call the police," Todd said carefully.

I wanted to obey, but found that not even his voice could soothe my body out of its tense state. It was at this moment that I realized I wasn't fight or flight--I was freeze. It made me feel so cowardly.

"Rosie?" he asked again, since he couldn't turn his head without signing our death warrants.

"She-she's in shock, man," Enrique responded.

"So then you call them."

"My phone is all the way in my back pocket-!"

"Enrique please," my sister whimpered.

With a shaky sigh, Enrique removed one of his hands from the handle. He let his fingers float in the space between us momentarily before gently sliding it down to his white-washed jeans. One second his hand was on his phone, and then the next we were all screaming bloody-murder as the van inched down the rocky incline. Enrique's hand shot back up to the handle bar so fast I didn't even see his movement.

"Ay dios mio!" our drummer shouted. "Oh no, oh no, I can't do this anymore!" Tears were now streaming down his face. "We're going to die!"

"Don't say that!" hiccuped Julie, but now she was crying too.

"Yes, yes we are! Guys, I wasn't honest with you. Tamara is just my beard! I'm gay! I'm gayyyy," he began wailing.

"Enrique what-" Todd started.

"Todd and I have been sleeping together!" blurted my sister.

Apparently, rage was enough fuel to rocket me directly out of my frozen state. "What?" I roared.

I saw Todd's green eyes go large.

"Rosie-" Julie blubbered.

"If we weren't about to careen off a cliff right now I would kill both of you!" Hurt loosened the terrified net wrapped around my insides. My own sister? My own boyfriend? "How long?"

"Rosie please," said Todd.

"How long?" My voice went shrill.

"A year! A yearrrr." Julie cringed.

Now I found my own eyes welling with tears. "How could you?"

"Because they were going to kick you out of the band!" said Enrique.

"What?"

"Let's be honest, babe," Todd said, voice growing angry. "Guitar was never going to be a real life career for you--your riffs are too messy and you always screw up basic chords! We couldn't have that."

"And you knew this?" I turned on Enrique.

He nodded frantically, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well screw you, Todd! At least I can sing! You sounded like a beached whale when you performed that song you wrote for our-two year anniversary! I hated it!"

"Don't yell at him! It's my fault!" said Julie.

"It's both of your faults! I was supposed to trust you guys!"

"It's not personal!" Todd cries.

"No, it definitely is!" I glanced around at all three of them carefully. "How could you? I brought us all together! This is how you repay me for helping you achieve your dream?"

"It's not personal Rosie," said Enrique. "You have to understand that after awhile it get's tiring to be reminded of that! Why should you have bragging rights? We're all part of this band!"

"Well-"

The van tipped forward further. Something in its movement caused the radio to shudder on, and it began blasting the ending of some old pop song. Enrique's drums in the trunk tumbled forward, slamming against the back of my seat, making my teeth chatter. My fingernails drove into the leather cushion.

At the same moment, Lady Gaga's hit The Edge of Glory started playing through the speaker.

Now Todd was crying.

My anger suddenly withered at the sight of how pathetic everyone looked, and how pathetic I probably looked. I found myself feeling embarrassed. Was I really that narcissistic all the time? Maybe I was. But that was just because I liked being a part of something--something that I could say I loved and enjoyed. I never bragged with the intention of pissing off everyone in the van. I don't think any of them knew that. Did they?

It was just like: why didn't Todd break up with me if he liked Julie? Why did my own sister go underneath my nose? Why didn't Enrique feel comfortable enough around us to tell the truth?

I didn't have any of those answers. Pressure began building up behind my nose. The only thing I could manage were wobbly vocals that made me sound as if I was on the verge of tears. "There ain't no reason you and me should be alone. Tonight, yeah, baby. Tonight, yeah, baby. I got a reason that you should take me home tonight."

Enrique's own vibrato joined in. "I need a man that thinks it's right when it's so wrong."

"Tonight, yeah, baby. Tonight, yeah, baby," whimpered Julie.

"Right on the limits, where we know we both belong tonight."

"It's hot to feel the rush. To brush the dangerous," began Todd in that horrible voice.

Then we were all singing along with Gaga.

"I'm on the edge with you!"

Even as the van dipped forward in an unforgiving way, and suddenly the ground gave out beneath us.