Neon Red [Order The eBook] [Zayn]

26

(DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. It's important to remember this is all totally fabricated, embellished, and exaggerated for entertainment purposes.)

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Whoa, gravity, stay the hell away from me

Whoa, gravity has taken better men than me

Now how can that be?

Just keep me where the light is

Just keep me where the light is

Just keep me where the light is

John Mayer - Gravity

A spiritual rot had set up within me. A living decomposition. External signs emerged and scared those closest to me. There were deep hollows beneath my cheekbones and cadaverous rings beneath my eyes. Taryn recommended I check into a hospital, to which I refused. In time they all instructed that I venture back onto social media and pretend for the fans' sake that everything was alright. I needed to be more active, which could only be beneficial in the buildup for the new single.

I awoke grudgingly each day, reassessing my life without end. Fabricating a schedule. Take out the trash; check. Take the dogs for a walk; check. Organize my emails; check. Sticking things to the crumbling cork board inside my mind. Practicality would be my redemption, I told myself, if only I could stick with it. Too often I fell off the wagon and rolled away into the dust. Lackadaisical. Heedless days. Stilted ruminations. Too much time spent hurtling around my own head. Needing to focus my attention on something outward and constructive like a buoy in the middle of a raging sea. Needing to find my Zen. Needing to be me again.

We facilitated the transfer of the money in installments. Precisely 100K, and then an extra 10 to keep them appeased. Imagine that. I was literally tipping my extortionists. There was never a response. Weeks passed during which I, Taryn, and the new publicist and his team remained vigilant, monitoring social media and the dark web but nothing ever surfaced online. Nor did I receive any more unmarked packages. With things seemingly settled on that front, I could finally breathe a bit easier and plot my next move while my opponent was indefinitely preoccupied.

I changed the hair up a bit, letting it grow a little longer before bleaching the tips and dying them bright green. My mom said it looked fine. Even a change as simple as this improved my mood immensely; so did releasing my collab with PARTYNEXTDOOR, a summery tune reminiscent of dancehall. I even managed to fly out for a little intimate listening party Sarah and the team arranged for me in London. It felt good to be around humans whose sole objective was to make me feel good about who I was and the things that I created. These giddy, endearing girls whose world seemed to revolve around me and my music had no idea how much they revitalized and encouraged me that day. Made me feel at home and welcome, although I would never lay eyes on any of them again.

The icing on the cake was filming the video for it at my London place with almost every UK contact I could think of. We weren't just pretending to party, it turned into a proper fucking rager. I was back to NYC within a week of wrapping the shoot, and now that the tune had been so well received, I was looking forward to premiering the video towards the end of April.

The beginning of March seemed to creep by while I was chained to my bedroom with crippling anxiety, hardly finding the strength to peep out at the world from between my yellowing blinds. Each day dragged on with a disquiet that stole my sleep and encouraged me to smoke hourly. I had edged up to two packs a day after the extortion scheme came underway and hadn't really found a way to reverse it yet. But April was set to fly by, leaving me in disbelief that it was already time for Haz's first solo release.