Fandom (Famous #3) - Eden Finley Page 0,86
on Fandom, I wasn’t working while I was staying in his house, but unlike in Montana where not working dragged me into depression, with Denver by my side, I didn’t long for something to fill my time.
He balances my life just by being there.
Fuck, what am I doing?
When someone dies, you abandon everything they wanted for you. It’s totally emotionally sound and completely logical.
Despite my brief what-the-fuck moment I had last night, when I finally crash out and wake in the middle of the night, I push on and keep driving north even if the voice inside my head has changed its tune and wants me to turn around.
I should be relieved when I pull into my street, or, I don’t know, I should feel like I have accomplished something. It’s a big choice, leaving behind the glitz and glam of fame. I did it once before with regrets. This time there’s nothing but finality. Or … there should be.
When I open the gate to my home, I’m numb. As I drive along the winding road leading to the monstrosity I built, still numb. And when I stop the car in the circular driveway, I stare out at the five-bedroom wood-and-stone structure and remember a time where I wanted to fill it with kids and a wife and have that everlasting kind of love you only see in movies.
When I learned the reality, that love is messy and happily ever afters are hard work, I gave up that dream. But looking at my empty house, I realize that sometime while living with Denver, those thoughts of forever might have crept back in.
It was so easy to be with him. It was confusing but easy. We know each other inside and out, and being intimate with him only brought us closer together. Our bond deepened to a level I never knew existed. I’ve thought I’ve felt what forever feels like before, but it’s incomparable to what I began to feel for Denver.
Why am I here, a thousand miles away, running from that?
I’m a fucking idiot.
I’m so distracted by the millions of thoughts running through my head, I barely notice when I bypass another car parked in my drive and think nothing of it.
Not until I slide my key in the front door and open it to the sound of people goofing off in my kitchen do I think, Oh wait, no one should be at my house.
But they’re not just people. They’re my people. The guys from Eleven are here. I can hear at least Harley and Blake. Does that mean …
My heart pitter-patters loudly as it jumps to conclusions, but as the door shuts behind me and the noises stop, Harley pops his head around the corner from the kitchen. Then Ryder appears.
One by one, they each come around the corner. They’re in my house. They’re here.
The last one is Denver, his head held low, his hands in his pockets. I hate seeing him like that.
“Denny.” The name gets stuck in my throat.
“Don’t be mad at him,” Blake says.
Mad? Why would I be mad? He’s … he came for me.
“As soon as he told me you had left yesterday, we called Harley, and we were all planning to come and get you back. Your mom let us in.”
“You … you all came for me?”
This is what I wanted eighteen months ago. This is the missing piece that had me running away from Hollywood.
We stand there, staring across the room at each other, the four of them and then me, hovering by my door.
“You’re one hundred percent right about Hollywood,” Harley says. “It’s toxic, it’s intrusive, it’s exhausting, and it’s shallow.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Blake says. “Before they offered me the Coby Godspeed movies, they told me to gain thirty pounds of muscles because ‘Nobody will believe your lanky boy band body could hang from buildings and kick asses.’ Then they don’t let me kick any asses anyway! Damn stunt doubles.”
“My point is,” Harley continues, “there’s a lot of shit we have to deal with to live our dream, so we understand why you want to run when things go wrong. But unlike last time, the four of us don’t have our heads too far up our own asses to see you need support.”
“We fucked up,” Ryder says. “We all fell out of touch because the second the band split, we reveled in being independent for once. We were selfish, and when one of us failed, we forgot that even though