I Got You ~ C.B

THIRTY

I didn't want to come home, ever. Even for a week. I'm perfectly content back in LA. Living my life. My job, my friends, my boyfriend. I'm the happiest I've been- ever. But I can feel myself becoming more and more the unhappy, suffocated, repressed person I was until I was sixteen as the plane gets closer and closer to landing. The person I was before I started YouTube, before I met Colby. Before I got a taste of what my life would be. Not even the fact that theres a huge crowd of people waiting to meet me as I land and having to be escorted through them by security can remind me of where I am in the world now. Because to me, as soon as the plane landed, I back in the corner of the world that I'm the person I never want to go back to being. What makes it worse is that I'm spending my time here with my dad, since mum's side came to see me for my birthday. My dad who didn't want me making a career on the Internet. My dad who didn't want me to move to LA. My dad who still thinks I wear a purity ring. My dad who thinks anyone I date is trying to use me. My dad who I never know how to approach each time I see him, never knowing if he's going to be in a good mood or having an episode. I never know if his mental illness has progressed or not, or maybe improved. He could have, by some miracle, gotten help since last time I saw him six months ago. But also, he's my dad who instilled my love of acting in me in the first place. My dad who nurtured my talents and my passions more than anyone else. My dad who raised me to believe I can be anything I want to be. My dad who, without him, I would have ended up being just like Sadie. My dad who made me humble, and giving, and many of my good qualities. I'm always excited to see him, I am, but I can never ignore the small feeling in the back of my mind of being scarred and petrified. We've had some dark times, and come through them again. I hope to God we're still okay.

The Uber pulls up outside the same house he's lived in since I left. Six months in one place, maybe he has improved. Maybe he's stopped trying to outrun the voices inside his own head. I knock, I know I've been given a key but I've never needed to use it- hence me losing it. One of the two other men in the house, dad's friend Damien, answers. The smell of weed hitting me as soon as the door opens. He exclaims
"Little Alaska! Not a chance in hell you're you."
I laugh, stepping in and hugging him
"Hey, Damo."
He comments
"Big celebrity life looks like it's taking to you nicely."
I smile, putting on a character the way I always do
"I think so."
I continue through the house, dragging my luggage behind me. My Louis Vuitton luggage which I fear is standing out like a sore thumb. The house looks exactly the same as the last time I saw it- empty, in need of a woman's touch. Although very clean, that would be dad's doing. I don't know why I was expecting something to have changed, it's only been half a year. It's hard to believe I was only here six months ago, it feels like it's been a lifetime. Like I'm heading into some grand rekindling of our father daughter relationship. I call him every few days, it's not like it's a huge deal, my homecoming. I walk right through to the back of the house, turning into dad's room at the furthest corner away, barging in
"I've arrived."
He jumps up from his bed, same bedding and all, the room cluttered but oddly neat.
"Pumpkin!"
We embrace, and he embraces me tightly. For ages. I let him hug me. I know very well I'm the most precious thing he has in this life. Or so he has told me. Eventually, he holds me at an arm's length to look over me
"Wow," he exhales "my girls all grown up!"
I smile
"Not really dada, still shorter than you."
He grins
"And that's what counts."
Even he is looking good. Not skinny, but muscular and healthy again. Almost, happier. Has he gotten help? He points at my bags
"Designer luggage, jewellery," he picks up a piece of my hair and examines it "no split ends," he then observes my hands "still a nail biter."
I chuckle, commenting
"I usually have a set of acrylics on but I decided to come back to my roots."
He laughs, hugging me again
"My princess is home!"
Again, holding me at an arms length, he explains
"Damien and Luke have given me permission to cook our cultural food while you're here so what do you feel like tonight? Curry, Mirabus, sambal?"
My dad is half Singaporean half Portuguese, but most of our 'cultural food' is Malaysian. I decided
"Sambal chicken- hot. With mama's beans and cabbage."
He kisses my forehead
"I'll start cooking now."

After dinner, the men and I make a bonfire in the fire pit out the back like old times, sipping beer as I DJ through the Bluetooth speaker. Damien is still recovering from the spice of dinner, Luke had always been able to handle our cultural food. Things are actually pretty good. If they stay like this for the next few days I think this could end up a good trip. I may have jinxed it when I think of this, since Damien mentions
"So, Alaska, Hollywood life. Tell us about it. All the drugs, sex and Rock an' Roll. You're new acting role and your not so new boyfriend."
I choke on my beer, eyes sheepishly looking to dad. Fuck. I purposely haven't mentioned anything about my part and Colby to dad. I just seemingly forgot that Damien is only thirty two and inept with internet. He's probably been following everything about me online. Crap- I hope he hasn't mentioned anything more to dad. And there's a lot more to be told. Hell- there's photos of me kissing Tana. Smoking, things I've worn. My whole life is out there. Oh God, here's where it all goes down hill.