The Illusion Of Progress

Adrenaline And Sex

Chapter One
I'd had it. I was sick of touring. Sick of interviews. Sick of fans. I was just sick of everything period. My life had become a monotonous string of appointments and obligations that I honestly didn't give a single fuck about anymore. I was exhausted. Fame was slowly chipping away at me and no one seemed to notice. I was screaming and no one could hear me.

The steady thud of my converse against the pavement went unnoticed on the busy street. That's why I loved it so much, the night that is. The night camouflaged me. It allowed me a chance to be normal. It let me get lost in a crowd that would otherwise swallow me whole. Fame had a price after all, one you dont realize until its to late to change your mind. They werent kidding when they said you sold your soul for rock & roll.

Tonight I was anonymous. Tonight I was free.

I didn't care about anything anymore. Rehab was a public relations stunt as far as I was concerned. I'd stopped the cutting and purging but I refused to leave behind the drugs an alcohol. Cocaine was the only fucking source of sanity I had left in my miserable life. Vodka at seven a.m.? Sure why not. Vodka in 7 up bottles? Sounds like a fucking plan.

As I walked, I imagined death. I wondered how easy it would be to swallow a ridiculous amount of pills and just let it all go. I quickly shrugged it off. It wasn't dramatic enough. A kitchen knife perhaps. I wondered if shoving it into my throat would hurt. It would definitely make a mess. I wondered what my parents would think. They'd probably be pissed about the stain it would leave in the carpet. Just one more thing for me to fuck up.

My life wasn't ways like this. I used to be normal. I used to have freinds and a life. Now I'm just a fucking cash cow. I released shitty radio friendly music in an effort to line the wallets of everyone around me. I had no real freinds. I wasn't entirely sure my family even cared about me. Everything about my life was a fucking joke. I was a sellout and everyone knew it.

I pulled my hood up over my head and shove my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket. It was chilly out. I kept my head hung low as I walked. I was paranoid about people recognizing me. I walked up to an interesection and stopped, the crosswalk had the bright red hand that signified you'd fucking get hit by car and die if you tried to cross the road. As I stood there a group of girls were whispering to each other and pointing toward me. I immediately felt uncomfortable. They were trying to figure out if I was the person that they all mindlessly worshipped.

I quickly walked away and looked for a place to hide. I stopped in front of a bookstore and ducked in without being followed. I hated books. I sighed as I resigned myself to being stuck in a fucking nerd sanctuary. It was better than interacting with fucking fans. I was completely wasted and the last thing I needed was another headline about my downward spiral.

I wandered through the aisles of books running my fingertips along the self. I wasn't paying very much attention to where I was going when I suddenly came to an abrupt stop. I had ran into someone who was browsing for a book. She didn't look very amused.

"Excuse you." She said sharply.

"Sorry." I mumbled.

"You should watch where you're going." She added as I watched her hands smooth out the front of her short skirt.

She had nicely manicured nails. I looked up and I swear to god my jaw dropped. She was stunning. She had long dark hair and brown eyes that made me question my purpose in life. She was perfect. She had the kind of lips that begged to be kissed. A classic red.

"I said I was sorry." I said once I was able to form a coherent sentence.

"Then you're forgiven." She smirked.