Page 45 of Portrait of A Lost Artist
“Jane Rae took the leak of the photos as a moment to play the victim. She went on a livestream and started crying, saying she’s heartbroken and explaining her side of the story.” Renna breathes out and I feel my eyes rolling to the back of my head. Of course she would. I can only imagine Simon is by her side, earning money from the sea of good publicity that will come her way. “Twitter trended something along the lines of hashtag Cancel Nathan Party and then some information came out to the public.”
“Information?”
“Yes—”
“What do you mean by information?”
“Nathan, gosh, I know you care about this woman, but I care about your wellbeing more. You didn’t tell me shit about this and now I’m trying to make do with what we have.” I stay silent so Renna can continue with her train of thought. “The public knows her name and a few things about her. They call her ‘the engineer’ or something. They found a LinkedIn profile that has her picture on it and netizens gathered some information.”
“Oh fuck. Please tell me they have no way of finding her.”
“I can’t promise you that. I don’t know how deep these people dare go on the internet to gather stuff about her, but...God, Nathan, I need you to come back home.” Renna’s voice sounds clogged up, as if she’s daring herself not to cry. “Everyone is going insane and people are clicking around on the internet sending hate your way and the least I need is to have you far. I don’t know what you’d be capable of doing without us, who love you, by your side and—fuck, please, come back home.”
“I don’t...I’ve never felt more at home.” I confess, tears finally dropping from my eyes before I laugh at my own pathetic state. “And leaving Havana would mean giving the paparazzi the benefit of tearing my life apart again. They took my sister. They can’t take away everything.”
“But they will, Nathan. They don’t see you as a human anymore.”
“And that makes me the problem? Do I always have to run away?”
“No. I’m not saying that. I’m just saying—”
“I know you care. I love you and I want nothing more than for all of this to end, but I can’t leave Veronica here. Not with the mess I’ve caused. Not—” Not with the lies I’ve said. I concealed my true self, entering a romance while burdened by a hidden past that shadowed my every move. Secrets I should have shared instead erupted into her peaceful life like a devastating storm. “I’ll go look for her.”
“Getting out would mean the paparazzi literally harassing you, Nathan.”
“Nate, think about this.” Benicio tries to get inside my head, but I am relentless. My thorax welcomes the beat of a heart that would run out of my ribcage if it could. I am petrified, eager to get to her. If only I had been quick enough to get to Lucy, she would be somewhere in Europe. Happy. Alive.
I can’t let them get to Veronica.
“I’ll call you later, Renna. We’ll see what we can do with the masses.” I hang up my phone before Renna absolutely loses her shit. Directly behind me, Benicio shadows my steps as I snatch a hoodie from the nearby hanger, quickly putting it on to hide and block the lights.
“I’m sure you can call her and everything will be fine. You don’t have to get out. Those people will jump at you and—”
“I need you to lend me your car.” I interrupt, only to have Benicio dropping his shoulders with an annoyed sigh.
“Just listen to me.”
“I can’t bear not knowing if they got to her. You don’t know how invasive they can get. They can jump fences, get inside houses...She doesn’t deserve to go through that.”
“Son, you should’ve told me about this!” Benicio is more annoyed than angered as he looks for his car keys and throws them my way. “I’m afraid of what they can do to you.”
So am I. For years, I was so lost in the drinks in my hands that I didn’t give a damn about the flashing of cameras against my face. I’m different now, the clearest-headed I’ve ever been, and that newfound sobriety is unsettling. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes to picture Veronica. The thought that they might have reached her fills me with doubt that she could ever forgive me.
“I’m sorry for putting you through this.” I whisper to Benicio, sparing him a good look over my shoulder before I press my hand to the doorknob. When I give it a twist, I become a prey to be eaten alive by a group of wolves.
I had forgotten just how animalistic this feels. When passing through them, the cameras go wild, hands clinging to my clothes, trying to pull me closer by tugs and rips.I push past them, their voices a jarring cacophony of superstitions and rumors, grating against my eardrums like the discordant chords of a shattered piano.
“Is your relationship with Jane Rae really over?”
“How’s Veronica? Who is this new girl?”
“Tell us why you cheated!”
My palm spreads over my face, aiming to create shadows from the cameras that harass me to no end. I almost don’t get to see the car parked in front of the house, but I pull through. Even though I am constantly pushed back, with microphones pressed to my mouth and people calling my name, I finally make it to the car. Feeling used. Forgotten. I am not the man I was just yesterday; healed, hidden, better.
When I start the car, I recollect the image of Lucy. The thought of her panicked flight through these streets flashes in my mind, but their relentless pursuit ignites a desperate fire within me. I plunge into the tangle of roads, desperate to lose their shadowy figures, their pursuit feeling like being hunted by creatures craving blood. Their sole desire is gossip.
I have to get away.
