He didn’t remember when he fell asleep, but he woke a few hours later.Lon’s door was now closed.Exhausted, Ry crawled to an empty bed and curled up.A chill clenched his throat and burrowed beneath hishollowed ribs.
CHAPTER 17: PRESENT
Ry stared at the back gardens of the facility for what he hoped was the last time.A sun-kissed breeze played on his skin and through his hair.His jaw unclenched, and he smiled, enjoying the moment.Yesterday, in his last session with Dr.Rosa, he worked with her to finalize his return plans: including a new lawyer and therapist.Over the last few years, he hadn’t really lived.He’d missed so much.And yet, his entire life had led him to this moment, with the sun on his face and a sea-salt breeze tugging at him.He clung to the rising feeling, the purpose, like the day he’d first performed in Portland for a small crowd.There was something so innocent about that time.
All of his clothes and the few belongings he’d brought waited at the front desk for him to finalize his checkout.The car he’d ordered would pick him up soon.
He was ready.So he bid the grounds and staff a silent farewell.
“Checking out,” Ry said to the front attendant.“I’ll miss this place.Does that happen a lot?”
“I’ve heard that many times,” she said with a smile, looking up his discharge information.“We say it’s the people here, but I think it’s the grounds and the weather.”
Ry laughed with her.Then he was out the door, with little fanfare.Split down, one saw through a veneer of ordinariness.The other waited, poised and breathless for the endless possibility of triumph.He waited outside, his bag motionless beside him.
He even had his cell phone back, but the thought of all the unread emails and messages unnerved him.For now, holding on to the present was enough.His car arrived, and he sat in the back seat.The driver moved his luggage to the trunk and closed his door for him.Fame came with perks.Or perhaps it was the money.
The ride home was quiet and uneventful.They took the road down to Malibu and along the coast.Waves crashed along the cliffs or gently brushed the golden beaches.It was a beautiful day.But most days in LA were beautiful.Slowly, the views of the sea transitioned to people, housing, and buildings.
He traveled through familiar neighborhoods on the freeway and then up to the Hollywood Hills, where he lived alone.There was something different about the place: more closed off, too large, so far from everything.Though he couldn’t blend in, he missed the camaraderie of being one of many.He longed to eat at a local taqueria, or go hang out and play pool at the local dive bar.
These days, he hated his fame.Home meant old movies, too much TV, or video games, occasionally posting or trolling online.Being alone.
They rounded the curve.His home, stark and broad against the surrounding hillside, glinted in the afternoon light.The driver dropped him off in front and carried the luggage into the foyer.Ry tipped the man well and waved goodbye.
The inside was dark and empty.He flicked the lights on, light breathing through the rooms, like a magazine come to life.It was cold and beautiful; he missed and hated it.He closed the door, the boom echoing through.How many days had he spent holed up, hiding from himself?There was nothing holding him here, a stranger.
His life here had been to go on tour, return from tours to sleep, eat, and numb the pain more until show time.
He shook himself and left the luggage for the moment to be outside in his backyard, a place he rarely spent time.The fading sunlight turned his few trees golden.He needed a new place, but that could wait.He had his plans; he wanted to live again.That meant he’d need to at least unpack his journal and notes.His clothes could wait; besides, he’d grown tired of wearing the same few outfits and wanted something else.
He pulled up the notes he’d taken along with a business card for a new lawyer: Sania M.Patel, Attorney at Law.He briefly read through a few notes and then punched in the office number on his phone.
No answer.“This is Orion Clair for Sania Patel.Rosewood Clinic provided me with your information.I’d like to schedule a meeting regarding a specific music contract I have with my record label.Please call me back when you can.Thanks.”
With that done, he should at least tell his friends he was home.He sent Brand a message:hey, made it back home and wanted to let you know.thanks for believing in me.tell everyone i say hi!
When no response came, he flopped onto his couch and called Lon.No answer.Well, he said he was taking his parents to Hawaii, so that must be where he was.
In the time it took to dial, Brand replied:Glad to hear.They all say hi back.Thank you for the letter.
One last call to Alex.Hitting the call button was harder than it should have been.The phone rang a few times, and as Ry breathed a sigh of relief, Alex answered.
“Hey, Ry.”
“Hey.”Ry smiled at hearing his voice.“Wanted to let you know I’m back.Made it home.Kinda weird.”
“Yeah,” he chuckled.“I can only imagine.Well, good that you made it home.”
“Thanks,” Ry said.He fidgeted with the remote.“What do you have planned for the rest of the day?Are you busy?”
“Don’t want to be alone?”Alex asked.“Well, I was planning on taking a sunset hike.You’re more than welcome to come along.”
“Hey!”He stood up and paced.“Maybe I’m used to having other people around for a change.So, want me to meet you there?”
“I’ll pick you up.You are sort of on the way.”
“I’m in the middle of nowhere,” Ry pointed out, heading up the stairs with his luggage.
