Lost in You

We’ve officially begun the countdown until his birthday. I don’t have anything planned, other than to see him. It will, however, be a welcome relief to kiss him in public without the threat of being arrested. Right now all we can do is video chat or text. By the time we can actually meet up on the phone, he’s either tired or doing homework or I’m exhausted. The time difference doesn’t help, either. All of this has made me crabby or a royal bitch, as Ian says.

I knew my occupation was going to be a problem, I just didn’t expect it to be something like this. When I came back from my impromptu trip, Ian was pissed and completely unhinged. Apparently, my escape from my life cost me dearly. I missed an important interview with a high profile magazine and they aren’t willing to reschedule. In fact, they ran with an expose and went as far as saying that I was shipped off to rehab, causing a total uproar.

This prompted Ian to call my parents. I could’ve asserted myself and reminded him that I’m an adult and his employer, but he was right. My decision to just up and leave had a repercussion on my career and I can’t afford bad press, which brings me to my latest dilemma, Ryan. He’s angry, hurt and anxious for me to visit. I can’t blame him and I feel the same, but there isn’t anything I can do. Ian has me on a short leash and each time I tug, he tightens the collar a little bit more. The last thing I want is Ryan’s mom thinking I’m some junkie.

Alex is another story. Her mom fell ill so she has stayed back in New York while I’ve been in Los Angeles working. It kills me that I want to be in three different places and can’t be. I should be with Alex and her mom, but I also want to be with Ryan. Work calls though and with Ian watching me like a hawk there’s no way I can sneak off for a weekend.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, sunshine.” I pull my phone away, look at the screen and roll my eyes. With the invention of caller ID I should never have to talk to someone I don’t want to and yet, here I am, doing just that.

“What do you want, Ian?”

“You have a meeting today.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. I just scheduled it and you won’t miss it.”

I sit up and adjust my pillow. I know I pissed him off, but I think he’s being a bit extreme. “It was one interview Ian, that’s it. I don’t understand why you’re being like this.”

“You have no idea what it is I do for you on a daily basis, do you?”

“I guess you’re about to tell me, aren’t you?”

“You’re right, I am. When you took off to do God knows what with that underage boy, I was left to pick up the pieces. This isn’t the first interview you’ve missed. Remember last year when you blew off the talk show because they had Coleman on the hour before and you didn’t want to run into him? How about the day you showed up to your photo shoot and looked so doped up because you hadn’t slept in two days? Is any of this ringing a bell, Hadley? Each and every time I’m there to fix your mistakes. The pregnancy rumors, the drinking, the drugs, over and over again I’m putting out fires that you’ve started because you’re too stubborn to think before you act.

“This time, you blew off the same reporter from the TV show so she instantly ran with how unstable you are. You can’t afford this. You can’t have mothers telling their daughters that they can’t listen to your music. You can’t have movie directors wanting to take a chance on you, only for them to think you’re some high-society socialite who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about anyone but herself.”

“None of this happened.”

“Why, because you didn’t hear about it? There’s a reason for that, Hadley. You and Alex have your heads so far up your asses you don’t know what the hell is going on around you. You go around doing whatever it is you want without any repercussions, leaving me to pick up the pieces.”

“Well I guess that’s why I pay you the big money, isn’t it?”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You don’t care. Maybe I’ll stop caring, especially when reporters are sniffing around you and this boy toy. Maybe I’ll let it drop that he’s only seventeen and you aren’t exactly keeping things PG.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Now get your ass over here, pronto.”

“Fine! Who is the meeting with?”

“Another musician. It’s for a small tour, starting immediately. You need this tour to fix your reputation before it tanks. Hadley, don’t be late. I’m getting sick of your games.”

I sigh heavily as I roll out of bed, throwing my phone into the chair. My neck is sore and I’m tired. Ryan and I were on the phone until about three in the morning. I can’t imagine how tired he is with having to go to school today; at least I got to sleep in.

I drag my sorry ass into the shower. I have a meeting with some artist that wants to do a mini tour before the end of the year. Lovely. That means I’ll be on the road for the holidays. Not something I really want to do, but Ian insists and Lord knows I can’t afford to piss him off. He says I need to do something to make up for my “blunder”. It’s not like I went out on stage naked. I missed an interview. I can’t imagine who Ian is bringing in to help my image.

But I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.

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