After the incident with Austin, I sought out a friendly face. Searching for Hailey became a nightmare. I thought she would be outside, listening to the band and cheering on her man, but I still couldn’t find her. Some man she had too. A man who could throw her away so easily. At least I didn’t get that impression with Brandt. Even with all our recent obstacles, he showed me he loved me by coming to Wisconsin and sticking up for me in front of my father. I kept thinking whatever was going on between us now was just a bump in the road. This too shall pass.
Exploring the house to find her didn’t appeal to me, but I did have a sudden urge to use the bathroom. I didn’t realize how bad I had to go until I got stuck waiting in line for the one at the bottom of the stairs. Maybe I would have more luck in the upstairs bathrooms. They couldn’t all be used by horny party goers. It bothered me to think of what went on up there but it couldn’t be that bad if I just looked to see if lines up there were any shorter.
Getting to the top of the stairs, I glanced down the massive hallway, realizing all the doors were closed. The first one I tried opened easy enough, and I saw two people kneeling on the bed naked. Both of the men laughed at me as I quickly shut the door hiding my embarrassment. Rethinking my decision to meander up the stairs, I regarded the next door with worry. I would just try the doorknob. If it opened effortlessly, then it couldn’t possibly be the bathroom, could it? Hesitating slightly, my hand clamped around the knob and turned, finding it locked. Putting up my ear to the door with all these people coming and going in the halls made me nervous, so instead, I camped out in front of it to see if anyone came out. Not willing to try any more doors, I waited for whoever was in there to finish.
My urgency caused my patience to waver and my eyes drifted to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. People were going in and out, leaving the door open, and I could just make out the master bathroom from my spot in the hallway, unable to see anyone else in there.
Going a little closer, I listened intently hearing only quiet. I went closer yet wondering if the guy left. Maybe he went down to hear the band and I could use the bathroom? I took another step closer when I heard someone, “You can come in.” It startled me. I looked in and saw a guy with a long beard and long hair in a ponytail. He had a black long-sleeved shirt on which seemed weird in the day’s heat, but I guess he was in an air-conditioned house. He had on jeans and cowboy boots and lounged on a chair by the end of the bed. Beside him rested a closed briefcase, but I had an idea what he kept inside of it.
“Sorry, I thought the room was empty. I was just looking for an open bathroom.”
“Well, this one is open. You can use it if you want.” He saw me hesitate and laughed, “Go on. I don’t bite.” My overfilled bladder made arguing impossible and I walked quickly to the bathroom, locking it as soon as I could close the door.
They fashioned this bathroom in the same marble I’d found in the downstairs bathroom, but the only thing I cared about at this point was the porcelain, the toilet to be exact, and as I went, relief flooded me as much as I flooded the bowl underneath me.
Washing my hands, I opened the door to find two people leaving. I tried to leave just as fast, also saying a speedy “Thank you,” when he stopped me.
“You are here with Brandt, aren’t you?” How would he know?
When I asked, he was smug in his reply, “I am the Candy Man. I know everything.” It wasn’t an answer. “Since you are a friend of Brandt’s you can have something on the house.” It shouldn’t be hard for me to respond but I floundered with a return. I knew Brandt smoked pot but did he do other drugs? When I first learned about his diabetes, he told me he didn’t use but then again, wasn’t pot a drug? Had he been lying? The thought made me a little uneasy knowing what we had just been through.
He noticed me waver but mistook it for interest in his product. “I have one of everything. I got a cure for it all.”
“I don’t do drugs.” My retort made him laugh.
“Honey, these aren’t just drugs. These are hospital grade pharmaceuticals. This is the stuff the doctors hand out. The only difference is here you don’t need a prescription.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He smiled, “I got my connections.” He opened the briefcase and turned it around so I could see in it. There were different colored pills and bags filled with what I assumed was pot. He tried a different approach, “I know a classy girl like yourself doesn’t have any issues, but these are harmless. Something to have fun with for the party. These drugs just loosen people up.” I looked up at him when he said, ‘loosen up.’ It was exactly my problem, and he chomped on it easily enough.
“Alcohol is the only substance I use to loosen up. I need to go.”
Before I got to the door, he spoke, “Yes, but who wants the hangover? These pills don’t do that. It is why people run to the doctor for them. Wouldn’t you want just one day to let go of the issues banging around in your head?” I hesitated, but this time because I was interested. Lots of people took medication for anxiety. It helped them when they had stress and needed to relax. They might help me. If I could loosen up tonight, I could finish what we started earlier, and Brandt wouldn’t be mad at me anymore.
“These are like the stuff in hospitals?”
He smiled reassuringly, “Of course. Think about it. If I don’t deliver on the good stuff, I lose business. That doesn’t help me any. Here.” He took a small bag with a pill in it and placed it in my hand. The pill looked like one of those sour candies I loved as a kid. It even had a smiley face on it. “I guarantee it will help you with whatever ails you.” Before I lost my nerve, I closed my hand on it and walked out the door.
Remorse hits me as soon as I left the room. What the hell did I do that for? Now, how would I get rid of it? I went back downstairs and couldn’t find Brandt anywhere. Stopping a guy who looked somewhat sober, I asked if he had seen him. “I think he is outside with that Cami chick.” Oh, great. Without giving us a chance to work out our disagreement, he ran back to her. I was sure she let him go down on her in the past. He probably regretted giving up a great sex life to be with me, going so far to discuss with her how much of a prude I was. Frigid even.
I didn’t even really think about it. I popped the pill in my mouth and swallowed. One night. I could loosen up for one night. Didn’t Brandt deserve it? I put him through hell last week. He should have a night to enjoy himself without a frigid girlfriend to ruin it.
I found him outside talking to a group of guys while avoiding listening to Austin sing. Cami stood off to the side with another group, but it didn’t escape me how she looked at him, obviously still enamored by him.
Teeming with insecurity, I went up to him and placed my hand in his, needing to feel some sort of connection with him. He accepted it and even brought it up to his lips to kiss it, giving me a sigh of relief. One of the guys in the group handed me another beer but Brandt had a glass of whiskey in his hand now. Although he seemed to drink it slower than he did at the last party, I hoped he didn’t drink too much knowing I would need a ride home tonight. I didn’t know how ‘loose’ I would become.
Brandt talked for a while, reminiscing on outlandish acts of groupies, as I watched Austin sing. His band sang a couple more songs before he became out of focus. My eyes turned to Brandt, and he too was a little fuzzy. This could have been a side effect of the drug and it made me nervous about what else it could do to my body. Shit. What if I threw it up? If it wasn’t in my system anymore, I wouldn’t have to worry. I needed a bathroom and left Brandt in a hurry to find the closest open one.
The line for the downstairs bathroom snaked down the hallway as usual, and I needed to get this done as quickly as possible, so I headed back upstairs. By the time I got up there, everything grew indistinct. People came at me in the hallway, laughing and lurching at me, making me feel a little paranoid. Did I look funny? My face felt funny. Like I was drunk but I know I didn’t have much to drink. Troubled, I rapidly turned doorknobs as I stumbled down the hallway. Finding one open, I walked into a bedroom where two people lay under the covers having sex but it didn’t seem to bother me this time. Staggering a little, I tried to make out what was happening to me. My head seemed foggy as I looked out the window to the sound of the band below.
I heard the couple say something, but my attention focused solely on the window where a little boy stood on the other side making my heartbeat quicken. How the hell did he get out there? He must have been only five years old and had blue eyes and blond hair, reminding me of Brandt which seemed ridiculous. The child would be the spitting image of what Brandt would look at his age but little of this situation made sense.
The child must have been floating, but my mind couldn’t be trusted, so I walked over to the window and realized he was standing on the dormer below it. Fearing his inevitable fall, I opened the window to warn him. I didn’t want to yell and scare him, so I took my time.
“Hey, what are you doing out here? Come, take my hand. Let me help you.”
The boy backed up still smiling at me. There was something familiar about him. Was this familiarity because he looked like Brandt? Then I thought blond hair and blue eyes described many people, even me.
Then it dawned on me. This was my child. The one I lost six years ago. It seemed impossible, somehow I knew it, but felt it just the same. He backed up further on the roof when I approached him and stood far enough out of my grasp, causing me to panic. As I tried talking to him, he slipped a little on the rooftop and my breath quickened. Oh my God. Convinced he would fall, I climbed out the window after him, and everything else seemed to drift away. I couldn’t hear the band anymore, and I saw nothing except my son. Slowly he inched towards the end of the dormer and I pleaded with him to stop before he fell.
“Hey, why don’t you come over here and I will help you back in the window where it is safe?” I tried to keep the worry out of my voice, but all he did was smile and continue to back up until he had less than a foot of space left on the dormer.
Tears streamed down my cheeks and my hands were drenched in sweat. Why did he not want to come over by me? He didn’t listen to my pleading. Certain now he was my child, I feared I would lose him once again and shook with fright.
Inching closer, I felt myself slipping on the rooftop, so I stopped and got my bearings. Brandt’s voice came to me in the distance but it was so far away he wouldn’t be able to help. Only I could get to him now and I advanced on him subtly, not wanting him to be scared of me. The little boy skirted the edge, so I waited and tried to calm him down. Advancing forward, I got within reach while I put my last foot near the edge and...
Panicked, I worked my way through the door with all the people in it. More people stood in my way by the open window, and I pushed them to the side. “Chelsea!” I yelled at her, but she didn’t acknowledge me. That was when I listened to her. She seemed to be talking to someone and the look she had on her face was one I had seen before on others. The dilated pupils, the sweaty skin. She was on something. shit. I brought my head back into the room and screamed for someone to get the doctor, the one they kept at the large parties should something like this happen.
The Candy Man leaned against the wall in a corner of the room. Figured that asshole would be part of this. “What did you give her?” He gave me a lackadaisical look and shrugged. I wanted to go over and get in his face, but instead, I hooked one leg over the windowsill intent on getting Chelsea off the roof. “What did you slip in her drink, you asshole?”
He shook his head and replied, “Man I didn’t drug her. She took it willingly.”
Bullshit. Chelsea didn’t do drugs. The most she would ever do was light up a cigarette. I gave up on talking to him and made my way out the window.
Chelsea fought to stand upright on the tilted roof siding while a light breeze wrapped her long skirt around her legs proving just as much a slip hazard, not to mention those damn wedge sandals she had on. She walked forward again, talking to an imaginary person, hallucinating further as she got close to the edge. Fear struck me as I called after her again noticing the tears course down her cheeks but still not acknowledging me.
Climbing out the window after her my heart sank as she slipped and caught herself again. Thank God as I was not close enough yet. The slanted dormer roof made it hard to get my footing and made me wonder how the hell did she didn’t fall off it in her buzzed state. I looked down and realized with her being over cement, there was no way she would survive a fall at this height. I needed to get to her. She reached out for something or someone and it made her off-balance making it imperative I got to her soon.
Chelsea inched closer to the edge, and I was afraid if she got much farther, I wouldn’t be able to catch her. She reached out and moved one foot when I grabbed her around the waist and landed square on the roof reaching out for the edge of the house. She struggled with me making us both slip before I got my footing again. Still in a daze, she screamed at an imaginary being in the distance although I couldn’t make out what she said. Something about a boy or something close to it. Right now my full concentration centered around trying to keep us both on the roof.
“Give her to me.” Austin reached out the window for my hand. I hesitated, making him yell again, “Before you both fall.” He was right. I couldn’t keep my footing with the both of us up there. I inched back until he could reach her. Once she was close enough, he pulled her into the bedroom, and I followed carefully.
Out of it and lying on the floor when I returned to the bedroom, Chelsea seemed to be looking around the room but not seeing anything, lying on the ground crying and shaking, and it scared the hell out of me. The doctor came into the room and had a bag with him.
“What did she take?” I looked around the room and spotted the Candy Man still by the wall looking as innocent as ever. If I ever saw him at another party, I would personally pound the shit out of him, but I needed to concentrate on Chelsea.
“What did she take?” I asked the Candy Man, almost daring him not to answer me, so I could pound the shit out of him.
“She had Molly.”
Ecstasy? She took ecstasy? Couldn’t be. “That doesn’t cause hallucinations like that.”
“This is the good shit.”
Fuck! He dealt in some lethal shit. He had too. Most of the people at these parties had built up quite the tolerance. “You gave her the strong stuff? She has never done it before.”
He shrugged, “I just gave her what she wanted.”
Looking back at the doctor, he already reached into his bag busily getting out a syringe and vial. He drained the vial and lifted her skirt to get at her leg. Chelsea was still seeing past me and seemed to be calming down from her screaming fit as the needle went in. She flinched and looked down at the syringe in her leg, causing another round of shrieks before she quieted.
I got impatient when her eyes still had that faraway look. “Call an ambulance,” I yelled at the people at the door, but the doctor stopped them.
“Wait, let the medicine work.”
I shook my head, “Call the fucking ambulance. She needs to go to a hospital.”
“Listen this is the same stuff they give in the emergency room. It will work soon just give it a little time. You don’t want to take her in, man. Think of the publicity it may give you.”
He was not worried about me, only having the police show up at the party. Well, fuck him, “I don’t give a shit who shows up.”
Unable to convince me of the bad exposure, all I wanted to do was punch him in the face and take her to the ER myself. “I wasn’t talking about publicity for you. Think about her.”
He looked at me with understanding eyes. He had seen a lot of shit over the last several years, and it finally hit me. She might get a police record over this too not to mention any unwanted publicity on her end. fucking paparazzi camped out at the ER waiting for this shit. Once they found out she was mixed up with me, it could land in the papers. It might not make it to Wisconsin, but I never knew what would end up in the rag news. I couldn’t chance it. I didn’t care if I looked worse in her father’s eyes. He already hated me. But it would hurt her to have him find out.
“She should be coming around.” The doctor reached for her, but I didn’t want him touching her. I brushed him off to gently shake her myself.
Chelsea opened her eyes and finally looked at me. Not through me like before, but looked at me. “Brandt... Brandt I saw him.” Appearing uneasy and pale, she was suddenly aware of everyone around her as well as the doctor shining a small light in her eyes.
“Chelsea, you are okay. You will be okay.”
She kept looking around at everyone, ignoring the doctor as he asked her name, “What happened?”
“Chelsea, it was just a bad reaction. You will be fine.” She anxiously scanned the room, and I couldn’t tell if her apparent paranoia was from the drug or the unsolicited attention.
“Brandt, people are staring at me.” She turned and hid her face in my chest, clinging to it.
I tried to keep my voice calm, “Shh, it’s okay. We are leaving.” Helping her to her feet, I took caution walking her down the stairs. I looked around for Austin, but I didn’t see him. I wanted to thank him, but I needed to take care of Chelsea now.
We were walking out the door and stopped just outside. People had gone back to what they were doing now the excitement was over. The fresh air should do her some good, and I needed to talk to the doctor. “Is she going to be all right?”
“Hey, yeah, man. The medication I gave her should work fine. It will block the effects of the drug until it can wear off. Problem is that it only has a half-life of about an hour which means you need to watch her and see if the hallucinations are gone by then. Here are a couple syringes and vials. Do you know how to use them?” I looked down at the stuff and nodded. He took it for a fact, thinking it common for musicians to know how to shoot up, but didn’t know I was a diabetic and I didn’t care what he thought at this point. He told me to watch her for the next six to eight hours depending on how potent the shit was, and I already knew the Candy Man gave her the good stuff.
Making sure Chelsea settled into the passenger seat of my car, I fought myself not to race and gain the attention of the authorities. The last thing I needed at this point was to get pulled over, but if the reversal drug wore off while we were in the car, she might do something stupid.
Chelsea started to cry. “Brandt what just happened.”
I kept my voice calm. I thought talking to her would be a good way to gauge if the drug was wearing off. “Chelsea, you will be okay. Did you take something tonight?”
She nodded from her position in the seat next to mine, curled into a ball away from me, and looked out the passenger window. She wiped away her tears, and I just wanted to hold her. What the hell was she thinking? She was so adamant about not getting mixed up with me when she thought I used drugs and now she took ecstasy?
“It was a small pill. The guy said it would relax me.” Tears flowed faster down her cheeks even though she thought I couldn’t see them.
It took me a while to realize she took the drug on purpose. She freaked out back in Wisconsin, thinking my insulin was heroin or something, and she took a pill at a party? It made little sense. “Why would you do that?”
“I thought maybe if I could relax, we wouldn’t fight anymore.” It hit me like a blow to the gut. I caused this. Me and the stupid fight we had. I made her feel bad about it earlier in the night and even rubbed it in at the party. What a fucking idiot. Of course, she would do this for me. I made her feel like shit on purpose, and I almost killed her. My God, I could have lost her. It hit home, and I felt numb. I couldn’t even talk to her the rest of the way. This was all my fault.
After making it back to my house, I helped her up to the bedroom. When I guided her into the bathroom, she shrugged me off, wanting to take care of herself on her own. Standing outside the door, I waited for her to come out, not wanting to interfere with her anymore. I couldn’t help feel like if she had died, it would have been on my hands.
Chelsea came out of the bathroom, and I helped her out of her clothes and under the covers. The medication from the doctor must have still been working as sleeping hopped up on Molly proved impossible. I had done it on occasions at parties earlier in my career but stopped when I noticed it interfered too much with my diabetes. It could be nasty shit, and I needed to make sure I could help Chelsea adjust to the crash I knew to be coming.
“Brandt what did I do?”
Sitting on the side of the bed and stroking her hair, I answered her, “You must have had a hallucination, Chelsea, you were out on the dormer of the house.” She looked down and closed her eyes. I got a little nervous about being the one to watch her tonight knowing I caused this.
She opened her eyes again, “I thought I saw my son tonight, Brandt. I don’t believe it myself, but it seemed so real.”
I sighed, feeling like an even bigger ass for putting her through this. “Chelsea, why don’t you try and get some sleep. I have to wake you in a little while to check on you, but you rest now.” She accepted this and closed her eyes again, but then I noticed another tear inching its way down her cheek. Guilt tugged at my heart. I am so sorry Chelsea.
Turning off the lights so she could sleep, I made my way over to the chair in the room’s corner. Wide awake and watching her all night, I noticed a pattern with her. When she got restless, I woke her up again to another thousand-mile stare and reached for the medication.
Chelsea didn’t even stir when it went in, but she didn’t necessarily wake up either. I watched and listened to her breathing all night. This time, the reversal drug worked longer, but I gave her another one at around four in the morning making her flinch. She returned to sleep easily enough and didn’t wake again until daybreak, lucid and somewhat rested. Physically, she would be all right, but I couldn’t help think I had damaged something deep inside her once again.
Brandt woke me up twice in the night that I vaguely remembered, and I felt another sharp pain in the thigh. When daylight came, I woke up and looked over at the chair to him still resting and watching me. Was he watching me all night? Did he get any sleep at all?
“Hey, Angel. How are you feeling?” I thought back to last night and how stupid I acted. The memory of my so-called son soon faded, but the worry on Brandt’s face made my regret all the more real. Tears stung at the back of my eyes, but I couldn’t let him worry about me anymore.
“Foolish. Were you up all night?”
He shook his head, “No. I slept some,” but I didn’t believe him since his clothes didn’t look wrinkled from the night before. “Are you hungry?” I didn’t think I could eat, but I needed coffee, so I nodded yes.
Putting on my bathrobe, I walked with him downstairs. He told me to go wait on the deck for the coffee. He knew I liked to drink it in the morning staring at the ocean. I didn’t argue. Why? He had done so much for me I didn’t know if I could ever repay him for last night.
Brandt brought out the coffee but had me lean forward on the lounge chair, so he could sit behind me. He held me as I sank back into him. It was just what I needed this morning, but the emotions fell freely from me and I started to cry. “Brandt, I am so stupid. I am so sorry I did that to you.”
“Chelsea, please. This is all my fault.”
His fault? Why would he think that? “Brandt, I took that pill on purpose. You had nothing to do with it.”
“I was the reason you thought you needed the pill. I made you feel bad for yesterday.”
He thought it was because I couldn’t let him go down on me, and I guessed indirectly he was right but, “Just because we had an argument doesn’t mean you had anything to do with my bad decisions.”
“I just want to know why. I mean, I thought you were against drugs.”
Taking the time to think about my answer, I replied, “I am, but I saw you in the kitchen with a joint and guess I figured I would never fit in with your friends...”
I didn’t finish, and I didn’t need to as he hugged me to him, “Chelsea, don’t ever think you need to fit in with my friends. Those people at the party are not my friends. They would just as soon cut my throat than help me get ahead in this business. It is each man for himself. You mean more to me than any of them. What I need to do is take better care of you.”
“No. I’ve been stupid thinking you would fit into a lifestyle that isn’t you. I don’t even want it anymore now that I have you. You left everything to be with me, and I need to make changes too. My God, you could’ve died.” I felt the pain in his voice and the tenderness. He kissed my head and held me as we watched the ocean. “I keep making the same mistakes Chelsea, and I swear I won’t do it again. I love you, and want to be here with you, and for you.”
Not knowing how to respond, I kept quiet. I didn’t want to go back to those parties, especially now. Not after what I did and all those people staring at me. I felt bad he needed to change his lifestyle, but I honestly thought if I had to choose Brandt and his way of living, it would break me in the end still so unsure of myself as it was. But could he change that much for me and not resent me?
We spent the rest of the morning talking. After a while, I took a long hot shower, and Brandt took a nap. A knock on the door interrupted our peace in the afternoon. Brandt went to answer it and found Hailey. She barged into the family room where I rested. “Chelsea, are you all right? I heard you had your drink spiked.”
She seemed genuinely concerned, but I couldn’t let her believe something that wasn’t true, “I am fine. Brandt watched me all last night, and I think the effects of the drug wore off.” And then a little quieter, “No one slipped it into my drink. I... I took it on purpose.” She gave me a quizzical look, but I thought she was just acting, already aware I did it to myself. Was she trying to help me save face? Brandt left for the home gym while I took Hailey to the family room for some privacy.
“You should have checked with me first if you are not used to drugs. What the Candy Man has could, well...”
“Kill me. Yeah, I kind of found out I can’t handle anything and won’t be doing it ever again.”
“Well, why did you do it then?”
No acting this time, “I was just trying to fit in, I guess. Brandt’s friends all seem...” I watched my words considering her husband was also in the music business, “...different than where I am from, so I didn’t want to stick out. But not anymore. I acted so foolishly.”
She smiled at me and came and gave me a hug. “Stupid is starting a blow habit to lose weight and then losing your first acting job after.” I stared at her. She had been talking about herself? It looked hard for her to admit.
“I guess stupid is normal then in California.” We both laughed halfheartedly. She went on to tell me about a time when she was young and trying to make her way in the business. A very judgmental casting agent said she would get more jobs if she could lose five pounds. She only tried cocaine once but the producer saw her and fired her.
“I have been the same weight for the last ten years. I have tried to lose weight, and I have tried to gain it, but this is where my body wants to be. Fuck them, I am not changing. Paid off too. I am shooting a commercial tomorrow and my agent has me set up for a lead in a new TV show he thinks I will get.”
“Oh Hailey, that is great.”
She smiled at me, “Hey, what are you doing tomorrow? Do you want to come and watch?”
It sounded like the perfect distraction. Nodding, I answered, “I will check with Brandt.”
She looked at me, “Check with Brandt? Does he have to give you permission?”
“No, but I should run it by him.” Wasn’t that what couples do?
“Fine, whatever. I will need you to drive to my house, and we can go together. Just be there by six in the morning because with drive time and traffic, it will take us a while.”
Hailey hugged me and left, and I went to the gym where Brandt finished his run on the treadmill. “Hailey asked me to come to her commercial shoot tomorrow. Do you mind?” Clothed just in shorts, his chest glistened with sweat from his workout.
“No, go ahead. I don’t know how long I will be in the studio.” Almost as an afterthought, he continued, “By the way, I have news to share. I got a call from Louis.” The only Louis I knew was the chauffeur from Wisconsin but how did he have Brandt’s number?
“Louis, the chauffeur?”
He smiled a little, “Yeah. He flew out to see his son and is thinking of staying in California, something about being tired of the Wisconsin cold on his old bones. Anyway, he is starting his own specialized limo service out here.”
I smiled, “That is great. I am so happy for him. But how did he get your number?”
He shrugged, “He helped you out back in Wisconsin when you had to deal with my drunk ass at the hotel. So, I told him that if he ever needed anything, he should look me up.”
“Oh, Brandt.” I couldn’t help gush at his part in helping Louis.
“Don’t ‘oh Brandt’ me. He took care of you and kept shit out of the media. He will do well in California with that work ethic. I am glad to do whatever I can to assist him with his business.” Louis was good at keeping quiet. He helped me figure out Brandt’s blood sugars the night of the hotel party in Wisconsin as well as kept his drinking out of the media.
No, that didn’t seem right. Drunken rock stars would go under the motto of ‘any PR is good PR.’ Instead, I realized Brandt meant only his diabetes. I hoped one day he could learn to embrace it for what it was worth instead of looking to hide it from his fans.
Leaving him in the work out room, I crept to the bedroom to look at my limited wardrobe. What exactly did you wear to a commercial shoot?