The Orion Star

The Pitfalls Of Being Famous

Aisles of action

Just scream for attention

Break my heart

For only a fraction

Is it over yet?

--From the song Peach Tree

Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens

"Oh. Hey."

Tristan sits up and looks at me over the back of the couch. I can't help but smirk.

His hair is a mess, wisps sticking up every which way. He gapes at me a bit bewildered, wiping at his mouth. Then he scrambles to his feet, running a hand through his hair.

"Sorry," he says, "I am so sorry if I just over stepped some sort of boundary--"

I go over to him, wrap my arms around his waist, and give him a kiss. He pulls away, looking relieved. Even so, he chuckles.

"You taste like mint. I probably have morning breath."

"Don't care," I say, grinning and poking his nose. He looks surprised. Yawning and stretching over my head, I walk towards the kitchen. "C'mon, I'll make us breakfast."

As he follows me, I turn around. "I knew you were a creepy stalker though. I knew it since day one."

He laughs. "Ya caught me, what can I say?"

"Lets see," I say, opening and closing various cabinets scrounging for anything edible. "Food, food, food..."

"You look good."

I'm at the empty fridge. I look down at myself. I'm barefoot, wearing baggy black sweatpants and no shirt. Part of my rehab was taking better care of myself over all, so I've actually been working out. I have the slightest signs of a six pack.

I shut the fridge and grin. "Thanks."

I'm suddenly self-conscious about how my arms must look. I had been hiding that part of me from everyone for a very long time; I have lots of scars. Embarrassed, I cross my arms.

"Hey," Tristan says, coming to me immediately. He smiles, rubbing my arms up and down. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Orio."

I glare to the side.

"I saw you retreat into yourself. I said you look good--believe it."

I offer up a faint smile. Tristan smiles back. My smile turns into a grin and I go back to rifling through everything for food.

"Ah-ha!" I found an unopened box of pancake mix that just requires water. "You like pancakes?"

He grins. "Love them."

~

"What have I gotten myself into?"

"Awesomeness."

Ben responded to Tristan, patting him on the shoulder and grinning.

"He's not wrong," I say, taking the ping-pong paddles from off the wall.

We're in my garage. My six car garage. I only have five cars though--the last garage is dedicated to ping-pong and darts. I open up all the doors for the fresh air, as always. There's a radio. I can't count the number of nights Ben, Jake, and I spent out here, playing ping-pong with the radio on, getting drunk--

"Guys," I moan as I hand Jake a paddle.

"S'up?" Jake asks me.

I cover my eyes and point to the mini-fridge.