Plain Sight

The Wall

Paul Zimmer was awakened suddenly by the insistent vibrating of his phone.

         “Shit... I overslept.” He rolled over and grabbed his phone off of his nightstand, dreading the messages from Danny that he knew must have flooded his phone. Sure enough, there were eleven texts- plus five missed calls.

         He scrolled through his messages, the brightness of the screen stinging his weary eyes. A sigh escaped him; he shouldn’t have let himself fall asleep. He knew that.

         This was the latest in his recent string of failures, he knew; Danny was going to be furious. The worst part of everything was that Paul knew he could not even blame his friend for being angry. He deserved Danny’s rage- in fact, it was probably the only thing he deserved at all.

         He rolled out of bed and landed with a thud on the floor, which was littered with pizza boxes and dirty clothes. He had to figure out what to wear to the meet and great party, and he had to do it quickly.

         He pulled himself to his feet, looking down at his body as he did so. His rippling abs gazed back up at him, sleek and taught in their god-like beauty. His body was the one thing that made him feel better at times when he felt as though he was failing in the one thing that he had set out to do- become a star.

         He opened his closet begrudgingly and sifted through layer upon layer of clothes. Nothing in his extensive wardrobe seemed to catch his eye, or suit the occasion. He hated the thought of not looking perfect in front of his fans, the people who he knew loved him even when he felt like he didn’t deserve it. He could not allow himself to have even a brief lapse of perfection; his fans deserved the absolute best, and nothing else- despite the pressure that he put on himself.

         “I’m a fucking mess.” Paul drove his fist hard into the plaster of the closet wall, not even flinching at the pain shooting up the muscles of his arm. “I don’t deserve fans this great, I can’t even be on time for my own damn meet and greet.”

         He collapsed onto himself on the floor of his closet amidst the crumbs of plaster, cradling his wrist against his chest. His phone began to ring again, and from his position of the floor he could just crane his neck enough to see that it was Danny calling. He extended his good arm and sent the call to voice mail. He should just go back to bed.

         Paul crawled towards the bed and climbed into it stiffly. The pain in his wrist was getting worse, and now he had a mess of plaster to clean up in the closet. Why had he thought taking the anger out on the wall was a good idea? He groaned and curled into a miserable ball. Why he did these things, he did not know.

         “Dude what the fuck?”

         The door to the room was flung open suddenly with a monstrous bang. Paul startled, picking his head up to see Danny standing in the doorway, a look of confused anger in his enormous eyes.

         “Paul...”

         “I can explain,” Paul began quickly, scrambling to his feet, careful not to put pressure on his hurt arm.

         “No I don’t think you can. Do you realize we have a meet and great in an hour?” Danny ran an anxious hand through his rich, flowing brown hair.

         “Yeah man I know. I just uh, I’ve been sick.”

         “That’s bullshit.” Danny’s soft mouth twisted with anger. He glanced at the decrepit surroundings, a look of disgust creeping over his angelic features. He reached down, grabbing a shirt and khaki pants off the floor and flinging them at Paul.

         “Put these on, we’re gonna be late.”

         “How the fuck did you get in here?” Paul growled, resentful of Danny’s unwelcome intrusion.

         “You gave me a spare key months ago.” Danny snapped, refusing to meet Paul’s eyes. “I wouldn’t have used it, but you didn’t answer your phone-“

         “You don’t have a right to barge into my fucking house.”

         “Alright whatever. I was just worried about you.”  Danny turned sharply, heading for the door. “Be downstairs in ten minutes, I’ll be in the car.”

         He left nearly as quickly as he had entered, slamming the door in his wake. Paul let out an enormous rush of breath, dropping his head into his hands. Thank God Danny hadn’t seen the plaster scattered all over the left corner of the room by the closet. Paul knew the last thing Danny needed was to become worried about him, especially after all that had happened with his mother.

         Paul reached for the shirt that Danny had flung at him and pulled it over his head, covering his chest. He raked a hand quickly through his mop of hair, and wriggled into his pants before stealing a quick look at himself in the mirror.

         The image that he saw was not terribly bad considering the circumstances. Though his arm was visibly swollen, his muscles still showed clearly, his fine veins popping out of his toned forearm.

He headed for the door, determined to pull himself together for the evening, knowing his fans depended on him. He could not give Danny any indication about what he’d done immediately before his arrival. No, he couldn’t worry Danny- even though he had to admit that he was getting a little worried about himself.