Page 130 of Breaking Hollywood

“You have a pygmy goat? When—actually, never mind. What about Logan? Can you go to his place?”

“He got a job in Maine. Went there a few days ago. But I’ll be fine, honestly. Don’t worry about me.”

“Yeah, of course I’m not going to worry.” I can practically see her rolling her eyes at me. “Look, I’m gonna call the hotel where Vaughn and I stay when we’re in LA. I’ll get you a room there.”

“What about Gucci?”

“They’ll take you and Gucci, or they’ll lose business they don’t want to lose.”

Her confidence makes me smile.

“It’s really kind of you to offer to do this, Charly, but my bank account won’t stretch to the kind of hotels that you and Vaughn stay in. I’ll just try and get a motel. And, if not, I’ll sleep in my car.”

“The hell you will. I’m calling the hotel now, and I’m paying—”

“Charly, no.”

“Ava, I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m booking you a room for you and your goat. And then I’m catching a flight to LA first thing.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t. But I want to. You’re my friend, babe. And I know, if this were reversed, you’d do the exact same for me.”

“Of course I would. In a heartbeat.”

“So, it’s settled then. I’ll text you with the hotel details in a few minutes. Call me if there are any problems when you check in. And I’ll see you in the morning.”

A tear rolls from my eye and down my cheek. “Thanks, Charly. I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you, too, babe. I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“See you then.”

I hang the phone up and hold it to my chest. Then, I rest my head back on the headrest and stare up at the roof of my car, praying that Gabe is okay up there, in his apartment, alone.

Gabe

I pick up the bottle of scotch that I’ve spent the night with and drain the remains.

I glance out at the morning creeping into the dark.

Foo Fighters’ “Best of You” is playing on a loop. It’s been playing for hours. It’s stuck on repeat. But I can’t be fucked to get up and change it. And, honestly, it’s pretty fucking apt for me at the moment, so I’ve just left it playing.

My cell starts to ring. I glance over at it on the coffee table.

Tate.

I leave it to ring out.

My cell’s been ringing all night. Vaughn. Julian. Gil. Donna. My publicist. And a bunch of other people I don’t give a shit about.

This is the first time that Tate’s called though.

He must’ve just seen the news.

Jesus. The thought of my baby brother knowing what I used to do to make money…

I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through the pain.