Can Fame Harm?

Chp25: Not my story to tell...

Everyone has their own way to deal with their past, they either hang on to it or let it go. Neither of the ways is easy cause each second of the past defines our present self. Both of these ways have two prospects, hanging on to your past and learning from the mistakes is wise but hanging on to it with nothing but remorse is waste of life. Where as letting it go is an initiative to move on while letting it go with no regret is to hold on - somewhat of a grudge.

I am not sure how Steve dealt with his past but I guess he's hanging on to it with nothing but remorse cause I don't think he's forgiven himself that's why he's stuck where he is. But in my perspective what matters was forgiveness from the people he had hurt. I assume Canéda was one of them.

But assumption are worse than guesses and often make a person judgemental so the best option is enquiry.

"So who's Canéda?"

Joe instantly stopped sipping on his lemonade and gave me his full attention, perhaps he'll elaborate on Steve's untold past.

"It's not my story to tell." Was the reply I got as my jaw hung open from the unexpected response.

"What do you mean?" I had a right to know, I was family after all.

"What I mean is I don't have the right to tell someone's story" Joe responded as his eyes casted away from my glare. I could always ask my friends about it since they kept track about celebrity gossip but then it wouldn't be their story to tell. Huh...

"You mean I don't have the right to know. What an indirect way to be rude" I retorted.

"Honey, if it's indirect then it's not rude" Joe showed calmness in his tone and posture despite my rashness. I guess I just forgot all the lady like etiquettes I was taught.

"So I don't have the right to know."

I pulled back from the table and left with my drink, approaching the counter to pay the cashier. As I was taking some money out of my pocket two realisations hit me as I observed my surroundings.

First the cashier who looked suspicious had disappeared from the parlour and second all the money in my pocket was in pounds, fate just played games with me.

I sighed as the cashier looked at me expectantly waiting for the cash that never was to come from my pocket.

"Miss, there you go" the cashier passed me the disposable cup which he had switched with the glass as I had requested.

"Thanks, I uhh..." I hesitated with my money problem as it involved my self respect. I mean I just had a argument with Joe I can't expect him to pay my bill. The cashier waited for my answer.

"My brother will be paying for orders we placed" I replied with shame as I had just hurt my self respect or shall I say ego.

"Miss, could you point out the booth so I could send the receipt." The cashier requested to my further embarrassment.

"Right there in the corner." I informed him as he nodded and Joe smiled at me. As if he knew what was going on.

As I walked towards the exit I pulled my tongue out at Joe, just like my childhood self. But it just made the corners of his lips stretch even wider which made me slam the parlour door a bit harder or way too hard as the people on the sidewalk stared at me for making such a loud sound.

"What??" I retorted. To which they just glared as if I were being insolent, I rolled my eyes and took a turn down an alley.

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Author's note:

This chapter is dedicated to ShesWithout...