The Orion Star

A Really Good Guy

Where forever dies

Where the universe ceases

Where time stops

Where the end begins

--From the song Keeping Secrets

Lyrics By: Benjamin Hill/Orion Bauwens

"Sweet mother of Jesus Mary."

"Yeah, it's a little much."

Jake, Ben, and myself just walked into my mansion. Tristan has stopped in the doorway, his jaw slack.

The front door is over-sized, looking like the front of a castle. Hanging above it is a huge crystal chandelier which serves to light the foyer we're standing in currently. Directly in front of the entrance is the grand staircase, two curved stairs going up either side. The foyer is slightly raised, and you have to walk down three steps to enter the house.

"C'mon," I say as Jake and Ben walk off to the left, presumably for the game room, "I'll show you around."

Tristan looks down at his feet. "Uh, should I take off my shoes?"

I high kick, showing him that I'm still wearing my all-black Converse. Then I grab his hand and drag him into my house.

"We'll go from top to bottom."

I start with my obnoxiously huge room. The ceiling is covered with the band posters that wouldn't fit in my room on the bus. I point up, and Tristan's mouth hangs slightly open.

All my favorites. Some I know would be surprising to people, others would be surprising if they weren't up there...Ozzy Osbourn, Queen, Green Day, My Chemical Romance, NF, 21 Pilots, Brand New, Vincent Black Shadow, Kidneytheives, Daft Punk, American Football, Cage the Elephant, Lily Allen...Snow Patrol, 30 Seconds To Mars, Father John Misty, Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, David Bowie, A Perfect Circle, VAST...

I love this setup because most nights it's inspiring, looking up at my idols before drifting off to sleep. It reminds me of my passion. It reminds me of what music is to me, what it's done for me. And I'm not talking about fame. These artists speak to my soul. These people are the ones that made me feel not alone.

Tristan stares at everything a moment, clearly a bit overwhelmed by the menagerie of posters. I lead him to my walk-in closet that's so big it has its own padded bench and full length mirror. Afterwards I show him the en suite master bathroom.

Then it's off to the five guest bedrooms. They're all pretty much the same, nothing special. I lead him back downstairs to the expansive kitchen, with it's long, black granite island that has a stainless steel sink in the middle. Beneath it are white and glass cupboards, matching all the white cabinets of the room. I use the island as the dining room table, white chairs situated around the entire thing.

In the kitchen is a pair of French doors, which I slide open. It leads to my back yard. There's a huge garden with topiaries everywhere. I even have a large hedge maze, which I admittedly like to get lost in.

I have a pool, of course, with a built in hot tub. It's enclosed, heated when it's winter. There's also a sauna--I admittedly don't use it that much and kind of regret having it installed. The truth of the matter is I'm too lazy to have it taken down. Also I can't count the amount of times I've banged women (and some men) in it...which is fun, so it stays.

Admittedly my obsessive compulsive disorder caught me completely off guard. Now that I was back home, however, I saw how I lived in a new light. The closest I had shown Tristan was meticulous, everything in order, perfectly aligned. In fact, everything was orderly everywhere.