by Alexa Land
“Many hours later when I finally got home, I collapsed in my entryway. To this day, I don’t know how I avoided wrecking that car on the highway, given the state I was in,” Zan said. “I slept for two days straight, right there on the floor. When I woke up, I was a mess. My body had begun the process of detoxing from all the booze and pills. It was bloody awful. I kept sweating and shaking and feeling like I was being turned inside out, and was so tempted to take a bunch of drugs and make the pain stop. The whole point of walking away had been to give myself a shot at life though, so I knew I had to get clean.”
“Did you have any help?” Eddie asked.
“After three days, my agent, Jeff Franco, tracked me down. He’d thought I’d holed up in some hotel in L.A., he really didn’t think I’d had it in me to make it all the way home. He brought a doctor, and the two of them helped me through the detox.”
“What happened then?”
“After that, it was a question of rebuilding. I started eating well and exercising, trying to strengthen my body, and my doctor brought in a psychiatrist to help me through the rest of it. I guess I was a little more fucked up than he was accustomed to, so he in turn brought in a team of colleagues. They had all these different theories about therapies and treatment options, and this all went on for months.
“Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I fired all of them and I just shut myself off from the world. I got rid of my TV, my computer, my phone, even my clocks. For the first time since I was six, I was free. I didn’t have to answer to anybody. I ate when and what I wanted, I slept according to my natural body clock, I exercised regularly and started truly healing.”
“If you totally cut yourself off, how did you get food and the other things you needed?” Eddie asked.
“Even though I fired him, Jeff kept coming back, not as my agent but as my friend. He’d shop for me and visit with me and make sure I was alright. He did that for years, until a family member of mine took over.”
“That was nice of him,” Eddie said.
“Yeah, it was. We had a long history and he was really there for me.”
“Are you and he still friends?”
“No, eventually we had a falling out. At first he was understanding, but then a couple years passed, and a couple more. He really hadn’t expected my break from the business to go on so long and he started pushing me to go back and rebuild my career. When I kept insisting I wasn’t ready, he tried to bring the shrinks back so they could fix me. Finally, his constant pressure got to be too much and I had to distance myself from him.”
“Which family member stepped in to help you?” Eddie asked.
I noticed the split-second glance that Zan gave his son, but he quickly answered, “I’d rather not say.”
“Okay. So, it was just you and your family member. Did they live with you?”
“Yeah, for a few years. But it wasn’t fair to expect him to be my whole world, so after a while I encouraged him to go off and lead his own life.”
“But you stayed where you were.”
“I did.”
“All alone?” Eddie asked. When Zan nodded he said, “How could you stand that much solitude?”
“I learned to love the quiet. It felt really good to be able to hear myself think, and to just be still and live in the moment. I guess I developed a fairly Zen-like approach to the whole thing. My need for social interaction was met by regular visits from my family member, and that was enough.”
Eddie asked, “Were you still cut off without a TV, phone or computer?”
“I got a TV after a while, but that was solely for watching DVDs. When anything important happened in the world, my family member would tell me. He also insisted I get a phone for emergencies. It only had his and my lawyer’s number in it. The lawyer had been taking care of all my affairs, from paying my taxes to handling any business transactions that came up. That was a big help.”
“In all, this spanned a period of thirteen years. You really didn’t go anywhere in all that time?”
“I didn’t, daft as that sounds. For a long time, the isolation really worked. It healed me and made me feel good again. I didn’t see the negative consequences for such a long time, until it was almost too late to do anything about it. You see, at some point this shift had occurred, from wanting to be isolated to needing to be. I stopped entertaining the notion of going back out in the world someday and re-engaging. Like I told Gianni, the cure wound up being as damaging as my original issues, because I ended up getting stuck. The longer I stayed away from the outside world, the more daunting the idea of facing it again became.”
“What did you do about that?” Eddie asked.
“When I first realized what was happening, I reached out to that psychiatrist again, the one that came to me in the early days and helped me through my detox. I didn’t know what else to do. He was quick to label me as agoraphobic, paranoid, a lot of other things, and his solution was that he wanted to medicate me and begin intensive therapy. I didn’t want either of those things, so told myself I could handle it on my own and declined his suggestions.”
“And did you handle it?”
“Yes and no. I remained isolated, until my fear of losing Gianni drove me out of the house. It scared the hell out of me and induced a massive panic attack, but I did it. So, I guess when I really needed to, I was able to overcome my fear.”
“So, wait. Thursday was the first time you faced the outside world?” Eddie sounded incredulous. Zan nodded and he asked, “But how? You went from complete isolation to getting swamped by hundreds of people at a busy airport. How did you avoid totally breaking down?”
Zan turned to look at me and touched my face. “I just remained focused on Gianni. He was moving away and I had to see him, I had to talk him out of it.” I squeezed his hand, overcome by the emotion in his eyes.
“Why were you moving away, Gianni?” Eddie asked.
“Because I was stupid, and because I didn’t know that Zan felt the same way I did. I didn’t think I had a reason to stay, but he showed me I was wrong.”
Eddie asked, “How long had you two been dating?”
“We weren’t. We hadn’t been romantically involved at all,” I said. “What everyone saw at the airport was our first kiss.”
“Oh! Wow. I had no idea,” Eddie exclaimed. “So, where do you two stand now?”
I grinned, still looking at Zan, and said, “At the very beginning of something beautiful.” I forgot a camera was rolling, and when Zan leaned in and kissed me, I melted into it.
Only when our little audience started whooping and applauding did we remember ourselves and break apart. Zan smiled at me, and I gave him a shy grin. Eddie said, “That’s awesome. Okay, so, Zan, is there anything you’d like to say to your fans?”
Zan nodded, growing serious. “I want to apologize for disappearing the way I did, with no explanation. I just...I didn’t really get it. Until I saw the footage of all those men and women gathering in front of this house, I had no idea I mattered to people.” He turned to look at the camera and said, “Thank you for all the love and support, and thank you for standing by me. I’m sorry I ran away and didn’t tell you why. You deserved an explanation and I’m sorry I was too messed up to give you one.”
Eddie asked, “Do you think you’ll ever perform again, Zan?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I really miss it. Performing was my entire life, ever since I was a lad. I wonder if I’d ever be able to get back to the sheer joy of it, without caving under all the pressure that went along with it.”
“Gianni, what’s your favorite Zan Tillane song?” Eddie asked.
Zan started to answer for me, saying, “Oh, I don’t think he really—”
But I cut in and said, “Yours Alone. I think it’s one of the most beautiful songs ever written.”
Zan grinned embarrassedly, looking down at our joined hands, and Eddie said, “Have you ever sung it for him, Zan?”
“No, never. It’s news to m
e that Gianni even knows any of my songs.”
Eddie said, “Do you think you might consider playing that song for us? That would be a really nice way to end this interview. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure.”
“It’d be a pleasure,” Zan said. He got up and led me to the grand piano in the corner. Eddie grabbed his gear and followed us, setting up a new shot as our little audience turned their chairs ninety degrees. “Do you play?” Zan asked me once we were seated at the bench.
“Very, very badly. Nana made my brothers and me take piano lessons when we were growing up. I was woefully inept.”
Zan grinned at me as he began playing. It was utterly effortless, as much a part of him as breathing. “Wow, you’re incredibly good at that,” I murmured, then tacked on, “I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I’m too good at it, to the extent that it forever determined the path my life would take. I was labeled a child prodigy at age four, and by six I was playing concert halls throughout the UK. I sometimes wonder what would have become of me if my Gran hadn’t had that old, tinny piano in her house in Croydon, and if I hadn’t sat down at it one day and begun playing along with the radio. If no one ever discovered I could do this, what would I be now? A lorry driver, perhaps? Or maybe I’d be managing a chip shop. I loved nothing more than chips as a kid.”
He smiled at me and I said, “It’s impossible to imagine you doing anything but this.” His graceful hands continued to fill the space around us with music, the tune vivid and evocative. “What’s that you’re playing?”
“Nothing. I’m just improvising, stalling a bit if I’m being honest.”
“Why?”
He looked down, his thick lashes shielding his green eyes. “It’s an odd thing, singing for you. I’ve sung for royalty, and presidents, and before crowds of tens of thousands of people. None of that made me nervous. This does.”
“Why would singing for me make you nervous?”
“Because you matter so much more than all of that.” I wrapped my arm around his waist and rested my head on his shoulder.
After a minute, Zan transitioned into the song I’d mentioned, the familiar tune washing over me. Then he began to sing, his voice astonishingly beautiful, clear and resonant. I sat up so I could watch him, and tried to reconcile the two Zans in my mind. Somehow, I never thought of the man I knew as this person, as the international pop star, the incredibly famous performer, as a legend, but he was all those things.
Seeing him perform was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time. Zan was so much more than me. I’d always known that, but all of a sudden it was as glaringly obvious as a spotlight right in the eyes.
He had to know that too, and now that he was back out in the world, he’d find someone so much better than me. I’d been his sole option when he’d been sealed up in his house, literally the only man in the world for him, simply because I’d been the only person to come along in a decade. It wasn’t that I was something special, I’d just been at the right place at the right time. He’d realize that soon enough. There were thousands of people that would give anything to wind up in his bed, and there was absolutely no way I could compete with that.
I pressed my eyes shut, the words he was singing cutting right through me. “I’m yours alone,” he sang, “Forever and always.” I was stupid to think I’d be able to hold the attention of a man like Zan Tillane, any more than the subject of that song had been able to.
When he reached the end, Zan turned to me. I composed myself immediately, but a little frown line appeared between his eyebrows, telling me he’d seen something in my expression. I smiled at him, then picked up his hand and kissed his fingers. “That was beautiful,” I told him. The last thing I needed was to drive him away even sooner with my insecurity, so I tried really hard to act like everything was fine.
Meanwhile, our little audience was cheering and applauding. Eddie came up to Zan, shook his hand, and gushed, “Thank you, sincerely, not only from me but on behalf of your fans. I have goosebumps! Oh my God, that was so great!”
“Glad you enjoyed it,” Zan said modestly.
“I think we should end the interview there if you feel like you’ve said what you want to.” When Zan nodded, Eddie thanked both of us, then addressed the camera, thanking the viewers. After he stopped recording, he immediately started watching the playback and murmured, “That’s a relief, it looks like I got all of that.”
Jessie jumped up and came over to him, saying, “I knew you were the right person to call. That was perfect!”
“Do you really think I did okay?” Eddie asked him, straightening his glasses. “Talk about being in over my head!”
“It was awesome, seriously,” Jessie told him.
Eddie smiled and said, “Thanks. Do you think it would it be okay if I stuck around for a few minutes and got this uploaded? I just need to edit out the parts where I’m turning the camera on and off and add a title. I’m scared to death that this funky old equipment will break down on me before I get the video online.”
“No problem,” Jessie said. “Let’s take your stuff into the kitchen and I’ll make us some iced tea while you do what you need to.”
After those two cleared out, Christian rolled up to us and pulled his dad down into a hug. “I was surprised you revealed so much,” he said. “I’m proud of you for being so candid. That’s going to answer a lot of questions for your fans.”
“It was high time,” Zan said.
After he and his son spoke for a few minutes, Zan said, “I think we should go up and pack a bag before Shea’s brother returns to whisk us away.” I nodded in agreement.
As soon as we were up in my bedroom with the door closed behind us, Zan drew me into his arms and asked if I was alright. “I’m fine,” I said automatically, sinking into his embrace.
“You sure? You looked upset earlier when I got through singing. I hope you’d tell me if something was bothering you, love.”
“Nothing’s bothering me.” It was a lie, but what was I supposed to say, that the more I realized how incredible he was, the more I felt completely unworthy of him? That made me sound pathetic. I gave him a smile and said, “We’d better pack. I’ll get our toiletries while you go see if any of my coats and boots fit you. It’ll probably be cold up in Tahoe.” He frowned again as I retreated to the bathroom.
Chapter Fifteen
The cabin was comfortable and charming. It was also wonderfully private, with thick stands of pines blocking off the cabins on either side of us, all of which were some distance away and standing empty in the off-season. The hillside location provided sweeping views of the sapphire blue lake and the surrounding snowy mountains, and soon after we arrived I went out onto the deck and took it all in. The only sound was the wind rustling through the trees, which was also fairly brisk. It felt good though, waking me up a bit after the long car ride.
Leaving the city had been every bit as crazy as we’d anticipated. The press and paparazzi probably would have trampled us in their quest for a soundbite, if not for the dozen security guards that helped us reach Officer Nolan’s department-issued SUV. They then followed us, of course, in cars, news vans, and even in the news helicopter, which seemed like complete overkill.
Fortunately though, Finn Nolan had planned everything well, pulling off a getaway worthy of James Bond. With the assistance of two well-placed SFPD roadblocks that only we were allowed to cross and a slick move where we switched vehicles inside a parking garage to lose the helicopter, we managed to get out of town undetected. Nolan had kept his cop face on throughout most of that, allowing himself only one quick fist-pump when he lost the last of our annoying caravan. He’d clearly enjoyed himself, though. Our one-man police escort had taken off just a couple minutes ago, after giving us a quick tour of the cabin and making sure the water and power were operational.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket. There were a few texts waiting for me, including messages from Yosh and Chance, asking
how we were. I wrote back quickly, assuring both of them that all was well, then read a longer message from Dante. He let me know that things had died down considerably once we took off. Christian and Shea, along with Skye and Dare, had gone the hoodies-and-sunglasses route and cleared out anonymously after the majority of the reporters tried to follow Zan, and all had made it home without incident. Dante and Charlie stayed at Nana’s, both to help her clean up the front yard and finish the paint job, and to assure that she didn’t do anything to the few paparazzi that lingered on the sidewalk. A couple security guards also remained to keep my family from getting hassled by the stragglers.
Jessie had texted as well to let me know that Zan’s video had gone viral instantly and was one of the top news stories on a lot of the networks. As soon as the video went live, Eddie himself had been inundated by reporters who wanted to interview him about Zan. He’d assured Jessie he wasn’t going to talk to them.
A lot of the wind had been taken out of the sails of the reporters, all of whom had wanted to scoop the story of Zan’s disappearance and return. They were left with little to do besides getting reactions from the crowd in Golden Gate Park, which had been overwhelmingly positive and supportive. The fans were sympathetic and seemed more devoted than ever, now that the full extent of Zan’s breakdown had come to light. We’d read some of those reactions on my phone on the drive to Tahoe, and Zan had said once again that he was determined to figure out how to give something back to his fans.
After a couple hours, the crowd in Golden Gate Park had begun to disperse. The footage of Zan and me getting in the SUV and being driven away had been aired repeatedly on television, and a spokesperson for the SFPD issued a statement saying they’d helped escort us to an ‘undisclosed out-of-state location’. They’d put a PR spin on it, making it sound like they’d stepped in to save Zan from the horrors and pressure of the paparazzi, out of the goodness of their hearts.