Sympathy For The Devil (On Hold)

i) A Fateful Run In

"Ok ok, um, Adam, hold on. You're just sad that's all, wait for this to blow over and you'll look back at this in a few years and laugh," Fred says.

"Really Fred? That's the best you can come up with?" I reply with a sigh, massaging my temples,"I don't think you understand. I go in the studio and there's nothing. No drive to sing, no desire to make music-"

"You've worked too hard on the band, you can't just toss all that hard work down the drain now can you?" Fred interupts,"Adam, you just need to recharge your batteries."

"How? It's kind of hard to do that when everyone is following you and want to be up your ass all the ti-"

"I've got it! A hiatus! Just for a couple months maybe even a year. You can go up to that cabin your dad owns," Fred says, with a smile that I feel through the phone,"It's a perfect place, no one can find you and no one is going to bug you. You'll be able to get back on your feet there."

I lean my head back in the chair, letting the thought of possibly going on a year hiatus run through my head. Maybe it's not such a bad idea. I would have my privacy, and I wouldn't have to do shit for a year, or answer to annoying people about my wardrobe and shit like that. I dunno though, I feel like if I leave the world is going to miss me. No, scratch that. I know the world is going to miss me.

"Adam... So?" Fred asks, dragging out the 'so'. The thought starts to bring up questions that slightly concern me. What's The Voice going to do without me? Or how's Blake going to survive with out me, for that matter? Are the boys going to be ok with this?

I shrug, to hell with it, what's the worst that can happen,"Sure Freddy. As of right now, I'm off the clock for a year."

I push the end button before he says something that changes my mind and shove my phone in my pocket. A one year hiatus. Wow, my pubicist is probably going to be elated, her most troublsome client is going to be out of the media for a year. More importantly what am I going to do for an entire year. Maybe I'll stay home and build model airplanes or something.

The growling in my stomach forces myself off the couch and I manage to wade through the trash riddled floor, over to the fridge. My palm flies to my forehead, as I open the empty fridge. That's right, I forgot. I haven't eaten anything for the past week and all the food went bad. If I don't get myself together, I'm probably going to starve myself or something. Ok, maybe I should get out of the house and go to the cabin for a bit. 

My head hangs low as I plod to my room. There's litter all over the floor and ontop of my undisturbed bed. I can't believe it got to this point, I mean yea, girls have dumped me before but, at least they did it in an honest way. 

Even though its been weeks since she set foot in this room, her perfume lingers in the air taunting me. I circle the room, following the trail of snapshot of my life, the only evidence that Bee was ever here. Most of them are of us smiling together and laughing but there were the occasional magazine cover that we posed for. The pictures aren't letting the bitter memory bury itself, and only evoking it and all the pain that comes along with it. Tears start to swell in my eyes and my hands start to shake. It takes a ton of blinking, but I manage to keep the tear from spilling by clearing my throat.

I shrug it off and I go through my closet and manage to find a couple clean shirts and pants that I stuff into a duffle bag. Before I leave the room, I take a look around, horrified at how neglected it is when I see a flash out of the corner of my eye and turn to the night stand. Air fills my lungs as much as they can, as I  drag my feet over to the source of the flashing.

I pick the frame from under some wrappers and stare at it, with a frown spread across my face. It's a picture of Bee and me at Disneyland after I proposed to her, but a crack runs diagonaly across it that breaks up into tiny cracks, like a vein breaking up into capillaries. I