Bikeriders Serenade

Coming Clean

The ticking of the wall clock was louder than usual. It filled the room, each second a reminder of the weight pressing down on Austin's chest. He sat in the quiet of his living room, the soft hum of his thoughts swirling like a storm. In his hand, his phone rested, the screen dark except for his reflection staring back at him.

Across from him, Lucy sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her eyes steady but soft. "You don't have to do this," she whispered. "But if you feel it's the right thing... I'm here. We're all here."

He nodded, his throat dry. For the past week, his secret had become heavier. The media had sniffed around, teasing the story like a wolf circling its prey. He could feel the tension building. The inevitable. But this-choosing to come forward-wasn't just about him anymore.

"I need to do this," Austin finally said, his voice quiet but resolute. "I can't keep hiding from it. Not from myself. And not from them."

Lucy reached out and took his hand, her fingers curling around his as if to tether him to the present. "Then tell your truth. You'll be helping someone who's going through the same thing."

He stared at the window, watching as the sun sank below the horizon, casting an amber glow across the room. The shadows stretched long, almost comforting in their familiarity. His mind wandered to his mother, Lori. Her soft laughter, her warm embrace. She had always told him that the bravest thing he could ever do was to be himself, fully and unapologetically.

Now, facing the world with the truth, he felt that bravery stirring inside him again.

Later That Night: The Decision

Austin sat alone in the backyard, the night air cool against his skin. The stars above shimmered, distant and untouchable, but still there, steady. His fingers trembled as they hovered over his phone. He could release a statement. An interview. Or a simple video.

But in the end, he knew what felt most honest. He had always spoken to his fans directly when it mattered. Why should this be any different?

With a deep breath, Austin pressed 'record.'

The camera lens seemed to bore into him, but as the seconds ticked by, the anxiety ebbed away, replaced by something stronger-truth.

"Hey, everyone," he began, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "I wanted to talk to you about something personal. Something I've been struggling with for a while now."

He paused, his eyes flicking down to his hands. There was no script, no cue cards-just him. And the truth.

"After my mom passed... I didn't deal with it in the healthiest way. Grief hit me hard. I tried to keep going, to push through, but it caught up to me. I started using alcohol to cope... and it only made things worse. The anxiety, the depression... it got darker." He exhaled, a deep, unsteady breath that carried the weight of months, years of pain.

His voice faltered for a moment, emotion thick in his throat. "But I want you to know that I've been getting help. With the support of my family, my friends, and an incredible therapist, I've started healing. And I'm telling you this because... I don't want anyone else to feel like they have to go through it alone."

The night was still, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves as the wind passed through them.

"You all mean so much to me," Austin continued, his gaze lifting to meet the camera's lens. "And if this helps just one person... if one of you hears this and decides to get help, or to talk to someone... then it's worth it."

His eyes shone with unshed tears, the weight of vulnerability pressing on his chest. "I'm still on this journey. But I wanted to be honest with you, because being open about this... it's part of the healing."