The Orion Star

...Is Not The Thing You Want

**TRIGGER WARNING** Discussion and treatment of self-harm and bulimia is addressed in this chapter. Reader discretion is advise.

Am I being dramatic?

This composure is not enough

Parasites writhe behind your eyes

Dig them out, try to be dainty

It'll gnaw on your innards

Genocide of the mind

We all fall down without the ashes 

--From the song Losers Weepers

Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens

If Tristan actually told anyone, you could've fooled me. Life carried on as usual. The tour continued. I had my okay days peppered with some really horrible days. The difficult part was being cognizant of the fact that my horrible days were starting to outweigh the okay one's.

That was another thing. I no longer had good days. They were all just "okay". I started to feel like I was just going through the motions. I felt trapped in my body, like I was looking out as the world whirled past me. There wasn't anything I could do about it so I just trudged on.

Tristan tried to keep in contact with me but I avoided him at all costs. Any time I saw him, I fled. Any time he entered a room, I left it. It wasn't fair to him, especially after I kissed him, but I couldn't face him.

Welcome to the story of my life. I just fuck everything up. Whenever there's a good opportunity--bam!--I sabotage it. Sometimes I worry I don't want to be happy, that I've known misery for so long that I'm afraid of anything else. I'm pathetic. I don't know why anyone puts up with my shit.

I lied. It's actually perfectly fair to Tristan. I'm saving him from the heartache and inevitable disappointment that will come from being with me.

After a couple weeks I really do think I've gotten off scot free. That is, until Gloria calls me into a meeting at the current hotel we're staying at. I admittedly find it a little funny that she wants to hammer out upcoming tour dates with me in a conference room. We usually do stuff like that in an informal setting. Even so, I don't think much of it.

That is, until I get to the conference room. It's rather large. The long cherry wood conference table has been pushed against the far wall, most of the chairs piled on top of it, leaving a huge empty area in the middle of the room.

Gloria, Jake, and Ben are all sitting there. They've made a circle of chairs, an empty one waiting for me. Jake is puffing away on a cigarette. His eyes are red rimmed and glassy, which instantaneously alarms me. Since I was fourteen I have never seen him cry. Not once.

"Oh fuck me."

I turn around to leave but the bodyguard that was standing at the door yanks it shut. I try to open it but it's locked. I jiggle the handle frantically and pound on the door with my open palm so hard it stings.

"Come on, open up!"

"Orion," Gloria says.

I turn around. "Really?! You fucking locked it from the outside?!"

"Orion. Please sit."

I go back to pounding on the door and shouting.

"Orion!" Gloria yells now, "sit your ass down!"

I start to panic, my breathing becoming heavy. "You can't do this."

"I already have."

"I'll call--" I start to say, but as soon as my hand hits my back pocket I realize I left my phone upstairs.