**TRIGGER WARNING** This chapter address severe insomnia, the resurfacing of a depressive episode (including self-deprecating thoughts), and fear of treatment. Reader discretion is advised.
Fickle like tinsel
It's the lie sitting on the horizon
Cordially presumptuous
Leaving me querulous
And frankly furious
The best place to find Hell
Is behind shut eyelids
--From the song Slumbers of A Time Long Ago
Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens/Benjamin Hill
I call up Ben and Jake and tell them what happened. I suggest they lay low, too, and they agree. I schedule to have Gloria pick up my mail. I'm not stupid enough to have my mail delivered to my house, I have everything forwarded to a drop box, but this entire thing has me on edge.
No one knows Gloria. I mean yeah, I'm sure people have seen her, and I'm sure she's been photographed with me before, but I've tried damn hard to make sure people don't know she's my manager. And I hate to say it, but it's for exactly this reason.
Once I got stupid-famous, I've done everything in my power to ensure my team is protected. I'm scarred by tales of celebrity stalkers. In no way, shape, or form am I going to put anyone associated with me in any sort of danger.
Granted, for all I know, this was a one-off incident. And I'd like to pretend that it didn't mean anything. But that was like, Godfather horse-head moment. That was extreme. Violent.
That meant someone either had a really disturbing way of showing affection, or someone hated my music so much they'd kill a poor dog over it. And honestly? That's half the reason this is so bad for me. I am a huge animal lover. I have more money than I know what to do with, and the two types of charities I give to are ones for children and ones for animals.
So my mind was running away with me. By three in the morning I was on Tristan's porch, smoking and shaking, convinced I had a stalker who knew me so well they knew my obsession with animals and used it against me. Which is absurd. Right?
Right?
When the door opens behind me, I flinch. But it's just Tristan. He's in his pj's and shoes.
He crosses his bare arms. "Can't sleep?"
"Fuck no."
"Yeah, neither can I."
He takes me into his arms as I take another drag of my cigarette. After a minute, I speak.
"You're gonna freeze your ass off in just short sleeves. You should go in."
"Not without you."
I sigh and snuff out my cigarette, rubbing my eye beneath my glasses. "I will, I just have to make a phone call."
Tristan briefly looks hurt.
"My sponsor."
"Ah. Say no more." He gives me a peck on the cheek and goes back inside.
With a sigh, I take out my phone and call up Heather.
"I swear to God Orion, if you're drunk, I'm going to come at you with all of God's fury--"
YOU ARE READING
The Orion Star
General FictionEveryone wants to be famous. Everyone knows it's not all it's cracked up to be. So it's confounding to Orion Bauwens why anyone would lust to be in his position. He loves what he does; singing and songwriting are his life. Yet he's starting to feel...
