by Daria M Paus
The constant buzz of voices around us made me wish I was back on the island, or on Bree’s farm. Anywhere where I could be alone to think—to breathe. I scanned the crowd; people of all sizes and colors were running around like ants, dragging suitcases, carrying backpacks, all of them too busy to notice me.
I stole a glance at the beautiful redhead next to me in the small but busy bar at gate seven. The girl who’d stumbled into my life and changed my whole world, saved me from myself, and breathed new life into my frozen heart. How could I leave her now? How would I even be able to breathe without her? She was the only reason that I was still alive and struggling with this mess. The only hope I had to cling to.
“Bree,” I whispered her name. “I’m not going back.” The moment I said it I knew how stupid it sounded. Childish even, but I just couldn’t bring myself to face it all—again. “Let me stay, I—"
“Johnny,” she sighed. “I don't want you to go, but you have to.”
“I can’t.”
“Let me come with you then.”
I shook my head. No matter how badly I wanted her by my side, I couldn’t put her through the torture that was my reality. The press would crush her. No one knew about her, and I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted to protect her from the harsh reality, and the ugly side of fame.
“They will fucking arrest me when I step off the plane.” I hung my head, trying to keep my anxiety at bay.
She stared at me with big eyes. “You don’t know that.”
I shook my head. I didn't. But I wouldn’t be surprised after the stunt I’d just pulled. Don’t leave the state. Yeah. I never seemed to do anything right. I was sure I’d just created an even bigger problem for myself—again. One more impulse acted upon; one more fucked up attempt to escape my life.
“I have nothing to go back to,” I said. My mansion in LA was just that—a house. Big, cold, and empty. One night in Bree’s home with her family had made me feel more relaxed than I’d ever felt in my own house.
“What about the movie?” she asked. “You have that.”
“Wow,” I muttered. “The news hasn’t reached Kentucky yet?”
“Which news?”
I looked around, finding a gossip magazine opened to the middle spread. I leaned over and slid it across the counter towards her. “Check it.” I was sure it would be there. Sure, this wasn’t Hollywood, but it didn't matter.
“Just tell me,” her voice rose. “What happened?” She flipped through the pages, shooting me looks in between browsing the magazine.
And then she found it. I clenched a fist in my lap and kept my eyes locked on it. I didn't want to see the sympathy in her eyes.
"Shit," she whispered. Her hand landed on my arm. “Because of . . .”
I gave her a stiff nod. “As I said, nothing to go back to.” Not even the movie, the only thing I’d had to focus on. I emptied the glass and signaled for the bartender to refill it. He gave me a knowing look and a grin as he handed me the liquor. There was no doubt he recognized me, and I was more than thankful for his discretion.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Johnny, I wish I—"
I cut her off, knowing I’d break the moment she tried to console me. “I’m fine,” I said with my best attempt at not showing how I really felt about it. She didn't buy it, of course. She never did. Bree had this uncanny way of seeing right through me.
Instead of pushing me, she took my hand and squeezed it.
She closed the magazine, and as I was about to shove it away, my eyes landed on the cover—my name in big red letters beneath my face. But what made my breath stop and my stomach lurch was what was written underneath.
Breaks California court order—on a plane to Kentucky. My vision blurred, the glass slid from my hand and crash-landed on the floor. Her hands were on me, but all I could focus on was the pressure over my chest and the coldness that spread through my body.
“Johnny!”
“It’s true,” I managed to choke out. “I didn't know.”
She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close to her body. I was sure people were staring, but I didn’t care. I was too busy trying not to pass out. And somewhere in the back of my mind I wondered what Marc was thinking, how angry he was at me this time.
Bree’s hand ran through my hair, just like she’d done so many times before, and I started to relax beneath her touch. You got this, I told myself. You can do it. And with her warm body pressed against mine, and her soft voice whispering soothing words into my neck, I started to feel like maybe I could. With her by my side I could face anything. She pulled away, looking up at my face with her big green eyes filled with tears. I struggled to keep the panic off my face. With her, I could. But I wouldn’t be with her. I’d have to leave her here.
“I can’t go back.”
She gave me a sad smile.
“I can’t do it, I don't even know how to survive the fucking flight, let alone what waits for me back in LA.” The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and I cringed. It was too much, too private, too raw. I didn't know what was wrong with me. All my life I’d shut my emotions down, pretended to be fine and put on fake smiles to hide the pain. But with Bree, I couldn’t do it. Hell, I tried, but she saw straight through me. She’d broken me, and I’d let her.
I’d never been more vulnerable in front of a woman; never given anything of myself. But I’d given her my soul. The risk I’d taken with her terrified and excited me. Sharing with her what had been buried for over twenty years felt good. I not only put my heart on the line with her, but also my life. If she’d break my trust, it’d be more than I’d be able to live with. I trusted her, I didn’t know why, and I feared she’d be the end of me. But I couldn’t keep myself from her, from giving her everything I’d never dared to give before—the raw truth and myself.
In my peripheral view I saw the bartender slide a new glass toward me.
Bree traced the anchor on my arm. “You can do it, you’re stronger than you think.”
I shook my head. “I’ve tried to be strong, Bree, but I fuck everything up no matter what I do.”
“Don’t say that.” She brushed hair out of my face, leaning in to kiss my lips. “Just think of the good things.”
“There’s nothing good in—" I cut myself off. What the fuck was I doing? I was worse than a teenage girl—whining and complaining. It was embarrassing.
I had to finish the sentence, whining or not, I hated the thought of her jumping to the wrong conclusion.
“Not without you.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m with you. I trust you. You’ll get through this.”
Trust. A bittersweet smile tugged at my lips as the memory came to mind. One more embarrassing breakdown that involved admitting to Bree my deepest fear. I don’t trust myself. I’ll lose it, like him. I remembered the words as if it had been yesterday. As soon as I’d said them, she promised me that I was nothing like the man I despised. And I started to feel it, believe it. The fear loosened its grip. I had my setbacks, but for the first time in my life I felt like I could start to heal from the wounds my father had etched into my soul.
She’d stayed through it all, refused to be pushed aside no matter how much shit I'd thrown her way. She’d slipped through my defense like no other, infiltrating every fiber of my being. If she believed in me, then maybe I could, too. Even if I couldn’t care much about my own fucked up life, hers meant the world to me. And I’d rather die than let her down.
I found myself nodding and she suddenly blurted, “Did you take the pills?”
“Wh—Fuck!” I’d forgotten the sleeping pills. I threw a quick look at the clock on the wall and a chill ran down my spine. Only a half hour left before I’d have to board the plane and it would take at least one hour for the effect to set in.
My eyes darted to her, and widened. “How did you remember?”
She smiled despite the horrified look she must’ve seen on my face.
“How could I no
t?”
I fumbled with my wallet, spilling the little pills on the counter. She stopped one of them from rolling to the floor, and I flashed her a quick smile. Then I gulped them down with the full glass of whiskey and she cringed as she watched me.
“I’m going to die.” I tried to sound as flippant as I could, but she saw straight through the poor excuse of a joke.
“Johnny,” she whispered my name. “Why don’t you let me go with you? I wish—"
“No.” No way. I couldn’t be that selfish.
“When things calm down, you’re more than welcome, but now—" I shook my head, unable to finish the sentence.
She seemed to think, then she blurted, “At least get me a round-trip ticket for the flight. You don’t have to do it alone.”
My throat tightened and tears filled my eyes. I looked away, trying to pull myself together.
“I got here alone, I can go back alone.”
“That was different.”
Fuck. She was smart. She knew exactly what I was thinking. Coming to her, I’d been in a much better mental state than what I was in now. Plus, I’d remembered the fucking pills to get me through most of the flight blacked out on some random person's shoulder.
A robotic voice called out. Passengers of flight 1245 to Los Angeles, please go to gate seven.
“I’m not going.” The words had lost their power, and she didn't take them any more seriously than I did.
I stood up, staggered, but regained my balance.
“They won’t let you board if you’re drunk,” she said.
“That’s the point.” It was my secret hope every time I had to fly, but so far, my wish had never been granted. I was sure I wouldn’t have that kind of luck this time, either.
She groaned, taking my hand in hers and led me toward the gate. We stopped, allowing the queue of people to go ahead.
“How are you doin’?”
I shook my head, knowing she’d understand.
“You?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
The tremble in her voice and the tears in her eyes broke my heart. No matter how many times I’d sworn I wouldn't go, I had to. If I stayed here, the cops would come and drag my ass back to LA. I simply had no choice.
“I know, Love.”
She was about to speak when a group of girls flocked around us.
“Johnny!” A young blonde approached us. “It’s you!”
“What are you doing here?” Another girl asked.
“You skipped town? Hiding out in Kentucky”?
“You can stay with me.”
I groaned, throwing an awkward look at Bree. She seemed shocked, staying behind me.
“Can I take a selfie with you?”
“Sure.”
More people gathered to see what the commotion was about, and I knew that if I didn't get out of there fast, I’d miss the plane.
They all talked at once, and I could only hear fractions, but I tried as best as I could to please everyone. Plastering a fake smile onto my face, I fished out a well-used ballpoint pen from my pocket and faced the girls.
“Can you sign my boarding pass?”
More selfies.
More autographs.
“Is it true, did you do it?”
“We love you!”
“I believe you!”
“Why are you here?”
“Who is the girl; is she your girlfriend?”
“What about Nancy?”
“What about the movie? Are you really fired?”
More autographs.
More selfies.
“Will you marry me?”
Fuck. Where was Marc when I needed him? Going without him hadn’t been the smartest thing I’d done. I needed to get the crowd out of my face, but they were like flies to a piece of shit. Buzzing, circling, going crazy.
“Guys,” I tried. “Excuse me.” I gestured toward the empty gate. “I have a plane to catch.”
“Are you going back to LA?”
“Is it true that the police are after you?”
“Did you really do it?”
“What will you do?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” I didn't know which question I had answered. My mind was reeling. Where was Bree? I looked around, seeing her standing alone a safe distance from the crowd.
“I have to go.” I pushed through the crowd, trying to ignore their hands on me and their shouts. “Love you all.”
They screamed, calling my name, and a bunch of ‘I love you’s’ bounced back at me.
“Bree,” I gasped. “I’m sorry.”
She looked dazed, but gave me a small smile.
“It’s the first time I see this in real life,” she breathed. “It’s—” She looked at the flock of fans staring back at us. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
There was a sadness to her voice as she spoke. “Pretend.” She looked up at me, and the sadness shone through her eyes as well. “You looked like a different person with them, like all is fine. It ain't. You ain't fine.”
I nodded slowly. She was right.
“Just—a habit I guess.”
“Baby,” she whispered.
The girls came toward us.
“Johnny!”
“Don’t go!”
“You can stay here with me!”
“Come to Boston with me.”
“Boarding pass please.”
I turned to the woman at the desk, and handed it to her in a daze.
“Please—” I gestured toward Bree. “Let her come with me, through the door I mean. I can’t—” I threw a meaning look toward the crowd, then lowered my voice. “I can’t say goodbye to her like this.”
The woman seemed to think. “I’m sorry, sir, without a—”
“Please. Just for a minute.”
She must’ve heard the desperation in my voice because she sighed and flicked her eyes toward the entrance. “Just because it’s you, and make it quick.”
I gave her a big smile, and her face turned red.
“Come.” I grabbed Bree’s hand and practically ran from the crowd. On the other side of the door, I dropped the smile, sunk down on a chair and let out a quivering breath.
“Welcome to my life.”
She sat next to me, grabbed my hand and held it with both of hers. We were out of time.
“I love you.” She was struggling to not cry. “Don’t ever forget that.”
She placed one hand on my cheek, gazing into my eyes. I swallowed down a lump in my throat as the images of our previous goodbye on the boat flashed through my mind. It had been hard then, but now it felt impossible. How was I going to survive without her? For a few seconds I considered giving in and letting her come. Before I could tell her, my mind caught up with my heart and I clamped my mouth shut. The flock of fans was nothing compared to what lay ahead. Bree wasn't ready for it.
I reached up and placed my hand over hers.
“I love you.” The words still felt foreign on my tongue, and I said them with a mix of terror and pleasure. “Please wait for me.”
Tears fell from her eyes and she managed to whisper, “I will.”
“Sir, the gate is closing, you need to board the plane.”
I managed a small nod, stood up, and considered running the hell out of there. Looking down the passage that would lead me to the plane quickened my pulse and a thin layer of cold sweat made my skin crawl. I sucked in a slow trembling breath.
“You ok?” Bree asked, and I knew before even nodding that she could see through the lie. I needed more whiskey and a stronger dose of sleeping pills.
I felt worse than ever, and I didn't know why. I’d never had this reaction before even stepping into the damned thing. Something about Bree’s presence made the usual walls of self-preservation and fake calmness crumble. With her, I couldn’t hide from myself, no matter how badly I wanted to.
Her arms around me forced me out of my mind and back to reality. Struggling not to cry
, I wrapped my arms around her and held her so tight my body muffled her sobs.
∞∞∞
I collapsed into my seat and closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to keep the tears from falling. Get a grip. I told myself. Get a fucking hold of yourself. I let my head fall back against the seat and breathed slowly in and out through my mouth.
The plane shook as it started to taxi.
Bree.
My sweet Bree.
Maybe if I thought of her, I could get through this.
The plane picked up its speed, turning onto the runway, then it paused a few seconds before getting ready for takeoff. My heart raced along with the engine. I couldn’t breathe.
Bree.
I imagined her face, her hair, her arms holding me—and the tears I’d held back since kissing her goodbye burst from my eyes. I choked on my breath, gasping for a new one as the plane started to move.
“Oh my God! Are you ok?”
I had no clue who sat next to me; I hadn’t dared to open my eyes.
“Fine.”
“You don’t look so fine.”
My throat tightened, cutting off my air supply. The plane accelerated, and the chatter of people and the crying baby a few seats ahead of mine all faded away in the roar of the engines. I grabbed the armrest and squeezed it so tight my arms shook from the tension. The plane lifted, and the few minutes of weightless panic wiped my mind clean. Everything turned black—silent and still. Then the sinking feeling crept up on me and I felt like vomiting.
Minutes dragged by too slowly, and when I was ready to throw myself off the plane to escape the terror that tore at my insides, the intense feelings slowly started to fade. Once the pills kicked in, the fear released me from its paralyzing grip. My body started to relax, and I could breathe again. My eyelids were heavy as I turned my head to glance at the woman next to me. She must've sensed me looking at her because she turned her head and gave me a cheerful, “Hey! I’m Hannah.”