The Last Cabin

Chapter 7

After a soothing morning of writing, then a laid back manning of my booth, and getting room service for three meals, I felt like this entire experience was passing by so fast. My last podcast was today, then I had to re due the one with Carson - which made me nervous to think about.

I got dressed and headed down to the first podcast room. Were they going to ask about Dirk? Of course they were, especially since everyone was talking about it. The drama in my life had reached its climax, or so I thought.

I went into the conference room filled with attractive, manicured people. The blond beauty leading the interview seated me and we exchanged normal small talk. I answered the general podcast questions, then she began asking about Dirk. Not knowing if she heard rumors about the incident between us the night before.

" Do you feel bad that he was arrested? What did you think after you found out the police took him away from the convention?"

With a lump in my throat but knowing I needed to keep my cool here - these were people I needed to impress - I did what I thought a cool person would do, and pretended to be above it.

"Eh, it's not my place to say. So how long have you been doing this podcast again?" I said, as I curled the top corner of the paper in front of me; wishing these hounding questions away, hoping they wouldn't notice my busy fingers.

"Oh, yeah. Uh, I think I've been going on two years now." She said, a little bewildered, then finished asking normal questions again; she tried to bring up Dirk one last time, but I shut it down, which wasn't good content for her but I knew I didn't want to be attached to this. We ended the podcast by exchanging fake compliments and smiles as I walked myself out. The refreshing coolness outside that room gave me enough relief to take a deep breath.

I noticed the time and thought I had a minute before going to the next podcast. I grabbed an iced tea and sat with my phone for a minute. When I went on Instagram, the news was everywhere about Dirk. The stories were all over the place - one even said he did things beyond reality. One stated they busted him for drugs, then another said he got into a fight with a bartender for not making his drink right. Who came up with this stuff?

I learned that day you don't want any news about you, because they will butcher it. Relieved my name stayed out of the whole thing, I closed the app, and walked to Carson's podcast room, while looking up at the architecture of the building. The arches of the main lobby resembled something you would see in an old European history book. As I walked through the halls, it amazed me that I had created this life for myself; I had actually made it in this world. I had done four podcasts - astounded that many people wanted to hear what I had to say - and I was even more amazed people were reading my stories daily.

I grabbed the heavy, well-built door to the podcast room and pulled it open, to see Carson seated by himself, waiting for me. When he saw me walk in, his smile grew, then he wrapped his arms around me, holding me for a moment. His hard body made me soften. Leaving me wondering if he did this kind of thing all the time. After light chit chat, we sat down to do the podcast, and I answered the remaining questions we missed the day before. I even spoke on my parents a bit, which Carson put his hand on mine while I spoke through that part. His touch gave me the comfort I needed, and he knew it.

We wrapped up and as I was about to leave and gather my things; he pulled me to sit on the couch with him.

"Hey, lets hangout tonight."

"Well, what do you mean? I don't think I could handle another bar," I said.

"No, no, not like that. Let me take you to dinner."

"Don't you think people would see us? Wouldn't it cause some attention?"

"I know a little hole in the wall place, its amazing, and no one will see us there. Trust me."