I missed the little things: the historic brick walls, all my family photos on the mantel, and how it always smells like coffee and hot tea. I could’ve stayed on the road longer. But I’m not racing to find a wayback.
A year ago, the early tour cancellation would’ve just fucking devastated me. I know I hurt people. I’ve seen Twitter. Fans called me an asshole, a heartless human being, a stuck-up celebrity pretending to be humble. That I only wanted the praise. And I don’t really care aboutyou.
I’mdone.
I’m done trying to prove anything to anyone. Even you. I am who I fucking am, and the truth will always be that I wish I could’ve done more. But I’m finally satisfied with the fact that I’ve given all that I can. Even if you can’t see it or refuse to believeit.
Now I need to behome.
With all the people who love meunconditionally.
My family and security zip in and out of the townhouse, carrying cardboard boxes, plastic tubs and clothes on hangers. Alpha blocked paparazzi off the street. So it’s been a pretty easy move-inday.
Dear World, don’t jinx me. Sincerely, an unluckyhuman.
Jesus.
Christ.
I rush down the stairs. “Luna, watchout!”
Dear World, yousuck.
Worstregards.
My skateboard rolls out from under the loveseat. Luna cradlesfourlava lamps and steps on the board. Trippingforward.
I sprint, and the skateboard bangs into the coffeetable.
Luna starts tumbling, about to face-plant, and I snag her arm before she goes down. And I hold her upright. She hot-potatoes a lamp, and catches it by thecord.
That was fucking close. I take herlamps.
“Bad start, the usual,” Luna breathes and crouches to pet Lady Macbeth. “I warned you I’d be a shitty roommate,right?”
I untangle the lamps. “And I reminded you that we used to be roommates for thirteenyears.”
Farrow isn’t here to voice the technicality, buttechnically, we’ve never shared a room before. It’s not like we’ll be sharing a room now either. She’s moving into the guest room, her own smallspace.
Luna rises as the black cat scampers away. “That’s different. We were kids backthen.”
I smile. “Yeah, and now you’re a high school graduate with a diploma and everything…” I trail off at her smile that she can’t contain. Luna finished her last homeschool examyesterday.
Luna shimmies her shoulders. “It’s pretty cool,huh?”
“Really fucking cool.” A few cousins pass us with boxes, and we edge near the fireplace. Staying out of theway.
I stare at my little sister and memories surface of us being just kids. I must’ve been five or six, and I’d constantly ask my mom if I could push Luna’s stroller. Wanting to help out. I buckled her into a car seat and held her hand while we crossed the street. We’d play-fight with plastic lightsabers in Superheroes & Scones and swapcomics.
Now she’seighteen.
I’m no longer holding her hand across the street. But she could’ve gone anywhere after graduating. And I’m highly aware that out of the entire world, she chose to be here withme.
I didn’t even hesitate to sayyes.“Don’t worry about any of this stuff.” I gesture to the frilly pillows, the skateboard, the coat rack with Jane’smanybright-colored rain jackets. “This house is yours now, too. I want it to feel like yourhome.”
She looks at the family photos on the mantel. “It kind of alreadydoes.”
I smile, and as security trickles inside, I leave to the guest room and drop off her lava lamps. Kinney and Xander are unpacking her sci-fi books and stacking them on ashelf.