**TRIGGER WARNING** Discussion of self-harm and the depiction of someone who is in the midst of a severe depressive episode. Reader discretion is advised.
Pain coming alive upon opening your eyes
As we all murmur our separate goodbyes
It's alright if you scream
No time to redeem
It's alright if you cry
Not like anyone will die
--From the song Battling The Dog
Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens
I haven't left my room for an entire day now. After the interview I demanded Gloria get a taxi. It wasn't nice, but I didn't want her to be in the limo while I lost my ever loving mind.
Because that's exactly what happened. I told the driver to put up the partition, and as soon as it was up all the way I laid down on the long seat and just cried. I didn't stop crying until we pulled up to where the buses were. Even then I shoved my hands in my pockets, kept my head down, and rushed to my room as quickly and stealthily as I could manage. I barely kept it together.
Everything was feeling like too much. I had to keep my head down as I walked from the limo to the bus because everything was too bright. My bus, the thing that I loved, was suddenly an eyesore. My eyes literally ached as the sun bounced off it. The thing that usually brought me peace of mind was suddenly an object from my worst nightmares.
Gloria must have told the band what happened because at various points Ben and Jake knock on my locked door. I either completely ignore them or tell them pathetically to go away.
"Come on, man," Jake says gently at one point. He's talking softly through the door. He's the only one that has said anything to me the entire time. The concern in his voice is damn near palatable and it only makes me cry harder. "Please let me in. I hate seeing you like this."
I can't let him in though. The truth of the matter is, it's not about shame. I've been friends with him long enough that he's seen me like this before. Hell, he's even held me before a few times mid freak-out.
When I get like this I just don't care. I just want to be left alone to wallow for a while. After that I'm fine. I'm always fine.
"I'm fine," I manage to croak out.
There's a pause, and then, still softly, "No you're not."
But I'm glad when I hear Jake's footsteps recede until there is nothing left but my own pathetic sniffles.
That all was yesterday. I didn't get any sleep. I've just sat for countless hours, crying pathetically, sitting on my bed with my boots still on and holding my pillow to my chest. The only time I emerged was when I was sure no one was around, slipping quietly to the mini bar to grab a beer.
To my slight annoyance there's a knock on my door. I ignore it. It comes again.
I don't recognize it; Gloria, Jake, and Ben all have their own distinctive knocks that I've come to know. The third knock comes with a voice. It's soft, concerned.
"Hey."
I lift my head, surprised. It's Tristan.
"Orion buddy, are you in there?"
I bury my chin back in my pillow and still don't say anything, fresh tears coming out.
"Orion, I'm about to kick down the damn door. People are starting to get worried you killed yourself."
YOU ARE READING
The Orion Star
General FictionEveryone wants to be famous. Everyone knows it's not all it's cracked up to be. So it's confounding to Orion Bauwens why anyone would lust to be in his position. He loves what he does; singing and songwriting are his life. Yet he's starting to feel...
