The plane lands in my hometown half a day later, and I immediately go home. My mom and dad were waiting for me, although they had no idea why I was in tatters.
"Sweetheart what's the matter?" My mom asks, helping me inside as my dad picks up my bags.
I wasn't crying anymore, but it showed that I did. I could tell that they were even more unhappy with Jared than I was. After Cameron, they really weren't sure of the guys I got in serious relationships with. They wanted me closer to home, and I guess for now they got their wish.
"I let my guard down and it blew up in my face." I sigh, sit down, and rub my face.
My dad gets me a plate for breakfast, "Where's Eva?"
This hits me, and I slump back, trying not to cry again. My mom waves her hands back at him and comes to my side. She grabs the cup of water my dad left on the coffee table and hands it to me, as if to tell me to breathe and calm down. I take a sip and sit back up. Suddenly, my sickness comes back and I can't hold it back.
I rush to the bathroom, while my mom and dad are left in the dust.
As I exit, I have a napkin over my mouth, shaking my head. My mom looks at me onfused before asking me if I'm okay.
"Just jetlag or something. I'm fine, Mom. " I whisper, scared that if I talk I'll get sick again.
She raises her eyebrows and sighs, "Okay. If you think you are then I trust you." She grabs my hands and pats them. My dad comes over and kisses the top of my head, just as he had done when I was a little girl.
"We have some errands to run today. You can join us or stay here. Up to you." he says.
I nod and lean back, "I'll stay here, my stomach is just too upset."
They nod and give me the usual run down where if I need anything I text, If I had an emergency, 911. I agree, and they leave shortly after. It was bittersweet to finally be alone. I was left alone, time to myself I haven't had since before I moved in with Jared. However, I was alone, disposable to my own mind. It would tear at me, at my heart, my stomach. I had to keep my mind preoccupied, that's the only way I could keep it tame.
I stood up and grabbed my bag then walked over to the washing machine. I dumped all my clothes in there before starting it, and headed up to my room. The stairs that lead to my room were relatively steep, so being half asleep didn't make them any easier to climb. As my foot hit the third step, the small of my back started to ache.
"God, am I falling apart?" I ask myself, standing and leaning against the railing. After a few moments, I continue to go upstairs to my room, where I find nothing has changed. All my things were in the same place I left them, the only thing in there that seemed to change was me.
I walk over to my bed and sit down. Imagine what the 15 year old me would have reacted to my life now, everything seemed so flip flop yet so normal. Kicking my feet up onto the bed and resting my head on the pillows, I let my mind wonder from what I needed to do from the things I still wanted to accomplish. I had left most of my things back at Jared's house back in Los Angeles, I would have to either get them or leave them, and the latter seemed the simplest solution. I lull myself to sleep eventually and take a short nap.
***
Jared's P.O.V.:
16 Hours Earlier:
I pull up to the venue for the photo signing and immediately my mood changes. My body feels like its been hit by a semi. My stomach ties itself in knots and my joints freeze. All the little hairs on my body stand up and I can't help but feel as if something is about to go horribly wrong.
I push those thoughts and feelings to the back of my head and prepare myself for the people waiting for me. The security guards take me to the room that has a table with pictures and a bottle of water. They give me the run down as the photographers and interviewers enter the room. I nod through all the chaos and smile when they open the doors.
*3 Hours Later*
The guards finally bring in the last group of followers for the day. I glance over them, as I usually do, smile and wink. This time, one girl a couple girls deep into the line draws my attention. She seemed around twenty, She wasn't laughing or smiling or jumping like the other girls, there wasn't a photo or album in her hand. She was just standing there, looking dead at me.
The first girl in line steps up and we go through taking the picture and conversing while I sign her whatever. I repeat this for the last few girls after her until its the peculiar girl's turn.
She calmly walks towards me, and I can see the only normal mannerisms, her fingers were twitching, I assume, out of nervousness. I try to shake off my uneasiness as I great her.
"Hey! What's your name?" I ask, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and facing towards the camera. She then places one of her hands on the small of my waist and the other on her side. Right when the photographer is about to take the photo, she switches her stance towards me and forcefully puts her lips on mine. I try to push her away, pressing my hand on her jaw and on her shoulders. Every vein in my body freezes as I hear the infamous click of the camera.
I finally get her off and security hauls her off. Panic starts to set in and the photographer immediately smiles then bails. The other one steps up in order for me to finish the greet, which was difficult.
I rushed the rest of the fans, telling them I didn't feel well and that I needed to go home. They understood and I rushed to get out. Many people tried to stop me, asking for advice, to thank me, stuff like that. I couldn't stop, I had to go to Dawson before she saw that picture. I could only imagine what was going through her head when she saw it, how she must feel.
Then it hit me, Cameron. My blood began to boil and my chest tightened, she had already gone through something like this, so it would be worse.
I sped to the hotel, and tried to get there as fast as I could. The venue was all the way in the neighboring town, so it took about an hour and a half to get to the hotel. The way the media spread now a days, that was enough time for the picture to spread.
When I hit traffic, I crumbled. My trembles came out, partially from anger, partially from anxiety. I picked up my phone and texted Dawson: When I get there, we can talk. Please let me explain.
I toss my phone into the passengers seat and find my way back to the hotel.
When I finally get there, its around one in the afternoon. I didn't get a text back, so I assumed the worse.
I open the door to the hotel room and my heart stops, the cold cup of coffee on the table confirmed that she had left already. I looked over the room and saw the open dresser drawer and the chicken scratch note on the night stand:
I don't understand why you kissed that girl, and I don't expect you to explain. You have to understand where I'm coming from. When someone puts all their trust, faith, and love into someone its difficult for them when it gets thrown in the trash like its nothing. Its not a good idea that I stay, so I'll head home. Please, Jared, don't try to explain.
I saw the stains from her tears on the paper, and the crumbled corner she fumbled with as she wrote. My legs gave out, and I fell to the ground, the note tightly in my grasp. I fucked up badly this time, and I didn't know how to fix it.
I leaned on the bed and hung my head in my knees. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach mere yards away reminded me that I was now here, alone.
