Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 114223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114223 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Once an addict, always an addict.
The worst part is that you don’t quite understand the severity of your addiction until it’s already five steps ahead of you, running toward the finish line, ready to ruin your life. I had my gaps between lines and bottles of alcohol, so I tried to convince myself I was still relatively sober, and when I was relatively sober, I called her. All the time. She never picked up. I got her email address from Blake and sent her messages. Stupid messages. Creepy messages. Messages that could have landed my arse in a lot of trouble.
To: Indiebell1996@gmail.com
Subject: I need you
I met Jesus at Times Square after a gig and he told me we were all going to die and that I should count my blessings, and I could only count one thing, and it was you.
Are you mad at me, still? Actually, don’t answer that. We’ll talk about it when I get there. I shouldn’t be contacting you. Blake thinks it’s an apology email, and I guess it is, but I’m not going to stop at that. He and Jenna are going to kill me if they know, but you and I, we are bigger than them. Bigger than this.
Jenna is pregnant with Blake’s baby, btw. She said not to tell anyone, so I’m telling you. Because you’re my someone. I think I’m going to circle back and delete this paragraph later. Too cliché. Did you know the album I had produced by that boy-band fuckboy was my best-selling one?
Huh.
Maybe I’ll keep this line in after all.
Alfie is on a pussy bender. Says he’s worried about me and that it’s his outlet. Blake is sleeping with his mobile pressed to his ear. Lucas rarely even talks anymore, and I…I drink.
It started with a vodka bottle the other day. I miss you. I didn’t know about what Fallon did that night. I swear. She’s in rehab. I gave her an ultimatum about coming clean. Please answer my calls. Or…not.
Don’t tell Blake.
A.
To: Indiebell1996@gmail.com
Subject: How?
I can’t believe this shit’s for real, Stardust. How can you not answer me? How can you not need me the way I need you? How is it fair that I found you, and you found me, and we both know damn well how rare what we have is, and you still let me go?
How do I let you go?
Stupid question, I don’t.
Two more weeks. I’ll be coming to get you. You know I will.
Yours (even if you think you don’t need me),
A.
To: Indiebell1996@gmail.com
Subject: I wrote a song
It goes like this:
Answer me.
Answer me.
Answer me.
Answer me.
Everyone and everything is falling apart. The Chicago gig was a shit show. I forgot most of the lyrics. Don’t ask why, Stardust. You know.
Hudson joined the tour to keep me from taking a shit on what’s left of my career, because Blake is back in L.A. playing baby daddy. I think Lucas and him are hooking up. Lucas and Hudson, that is. Not Blake. I hope they are. That’s good, right? That I’m wishing good things upon good people.
Oh. Side note. Lucas is gay.
I want you to know I thought about it, and even though I’m a sellout, I do love the rough material for the new album. It bleeds your personality. I can’t wait to share you with the world. Share your soul. You were right. It is your soul, but I told you I’d borrow it. You don’t mind, right?
I’m coming to L.A. in a week.
A.
To: Indiebell1996@gmail.com
Subject: Once upon a time there was a prince…
Remember, in The Little Prince, when the fox wants the boy to tame him so they’d always have each other? I think that’s what you did to me. You tamed me. I needed you. And you unleashed me back into the wild, domesticated and YOURS, and now I’m not sure wtf I need to do to survive. Which, I think you’d agree, is ironic. Everything considered and such.
I’m on the road from Chicago to Oklahoma on a tour bus. You would have liked it. We banned Alfie from Mexican food. I think about you a lot. I wank to our Polaroids a lot. I haven’t touched anyone since you left. Okay. Full disclosure: I cupped a tit while taking a photo with a fan. But she’d just had a boob job, and it was for her birthday. And I didn’t enjoy it. At all.
It’s so weird to be here, to do this, to not be chasing you like every bone in my body tells me to. Blake says to give you time, but what does he know about relationships? He and Jenna are a train wreck.
I saw a squirrel today. Its tail was cut. It was still furry, just…short. Ever seen a squirrel’s tail up close? It’s quite magnificent. I felt bad for the squirrel, but reminded myself it didn’t know that its tail was cut.