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chapter FIVE

Therapist: For the first time, you were scared to tell your family something. Would you say that’s true?

Jay: Sure. I’ve never been a problem for them. We lived a good life.

Therapist: That’s a pattern of yours. To never be a problem.

Jay: And that’s a bad thing?

Therapist: When never having a problem becomes the problem, yes, Jay. It is.

Jay

The rehab was a joke if you wanted it to be. Other celebrities were there and some were trying, sure. Most were on their phones, snapping selfies, talking to their friends, scrolling their social media accounts. At night, one of the women gave me the details on how to leave without them making a fuss or contacting the people who paid for you to be there.

My agency wouldn’t be contacted as long as I slid the night dty staff a couple hundred. Where do you get a couple hundred if you didn’t bring cash? They would drive you.

And then there were those that tried. I saw the loss of life in their eyes, like they knew their problem had taken over their life, consumed them, consumed their family, and still they were clawing at the edge of giving in as the addiction dragged them down.

I liked to think my partying with drugs and alcohol was a habit. I didn’t do it daily. I indulged and partied hard maybe twice a week. Other days, I took a bump here and there to maintain the personality and the charm.

On Day Four of my stay, my habit became somewhat of a nuisance. Why couldn’t I party if I wanted to? To prove a damn point to Mikka and the agency? I wasn’t telling my family like the doctor on site suggested because I didn’t need to worry anyone outside of the business.

And this was a business. They wanted me to have a clean ass bill of health and reputation before the movie released.

The movie was a step outside of rom-com, the one I’d been waiting for. I was the next Matthew McConaughey, sources were saying, I had the acting power but hadn’t been given the script. This was that script. Mikka and I both knew it and my agency did too. They didn’t want anything tainting that.

So, I would sit at this nice rehab center and take it as a vacation. They offered massages, had a gym, and were stacked to the nines in amenities.

On Day Five of my stay, my habit-turned-nuisance became a strong desire. The desire became a need—the addiction I’d dreaded. Frustration turned to rage. My obliviousness to my problem became an immediate terrifying reality.

My doctor pushed me to accept it. “You need to call the ones you love, Jay. They need to know what you’re going through.”

“Why? They don’t need to worry. It’s under control.”

“You screamed out in pain last night and begged for a hit of something. You think that’s control?”

“No. I realize there’s a problem. But I will overcome it,” I replied, full of belief in myself.

“You will.” The doctor looked down at his notepad. “I have no doubts you will, but your family will help you. And you need that help if you want to continue to pursue what’s important to you.”

“There will be other movies.” I brushed a non-existent crumb from the table that sat between us.

“Sure. But this is your movie, the one you said”—he rustled through his papers—“you believed in and had views that aligned directly with yours. You said, and I quote, ‘I practiced nailing this role because I was born for it. It’s the role of a lifetime and it isn’t one I will ever encounter again.’”

“So, I know I said that but—”

“Don’t downplay how you feel now in order to get what you want. It never works.” The doc closed his notepad. “Call your family.”

Those calls were the hardest to make. Something about their shock and then their support once I convinced them pushed my guilt to new heights.

My parents were together when I phoned them.

“Jay!” My mom yelled into the phone. “Your father and I are vacationing.”

“It’s not a vacation,” he grumbled.

“It is. I’m calling our home in Florida a vacation every time I’m here now. He keeps telling me it isn’t a vacation home but it is. Home is in Greenville.”


Tags: Shain Rose Romance