Chapter 9: ELENA

"Oh no, that's too much. I'm not sure I'm ready for that." Baby steps, people, baby steps. In three, two, one, I'm going to absolutely freak the fuck out. "I can't do a live show right now, especially not an award show where everyone who's anyone in the industry will be there."

I felt sick panic kicking in, and had to hold my breath to keep myself from blacking out. What they were offering was both amazing and terrifying at once. To be on that stage is every entertainer's dream, but there was no way I could make it my comeback venue. Are they insane?

The song was doing well beyond my wildest imagination, beyond anyone's, I'm sure, and that's no doubt why they were offering me this chance but had everyone forgotten what I'd been through? The whole damn song spells it out, for crap's sake.

It was hard enough putting those words to paper, then singing them to the melody that played in my head each time I read them, but to actually perform that song in public, in front of a live audience? No fucking way. Breathe, Elena, breathe.

"Think about your fans; they've been waiting for this, and they love you. It's the perfect timing."

For you, maybe, but it feels like an invitation to hell for me.

"You don't have to give us an answer right this second. Why don't we give you a couple of days to think it over?" My manager was still treating me with kid gloves, which I sort of appreciated, but the look on Sydney's face, that subtle hint of disappointment that she was trying so hard to hide, I felt to the core. I know that none of this would have even been possible without her pushing me to begin with.

It was that look more than anything else that made me want to give in, but something held me back. Not something, someone. I knew for sure that he would be there, he's been riding high on the charts for more than a decade, and though I'd kinda, sorta heard that he hadn't been putting out any new material either, there was a better-than-good chance that he would be there that night.

In this industry, no one really thinks about mental health and the effect certain things have on people, so some enterprising jerk somewhere would definitely think it's a good idea to have him in the audience, front and center, for my big return. How better to sell tickets to that shit or up the viewership? Oh hell, I'd rather die.

"Okay, okay, that's enough; put your head between your knees, Elena; now breathe." Sydney rushed to my side on the couch and pushed my head between my knees, rubbing my back as she sent the others away. If there's one thing I can count on, it's that as much as she wants me back on the stage, she cares more about me as a person. That there's no avarice or hidden agendas attached to our friendship.

"I can take care of her. You probably have lots to do; you can go." Rachel tried to take over, and I can only imagine the look Sydney gave her that shut her up so quickly before I heard her footsteps walking away as she left the room hastily.

"It's okay; they're gone, hon." They might be, but their words still lingered. Just when I thought I was doing okay, that I was getting better or at least a lot better than I had been, this had thrown me into a tailspin. All the old terror came rushing back, and not even the pomp and excitement of the last few days could bring me out of it.

I almost wished I hadn't stepped foot back in the studio. How had everything become a two-edged sword? The one thing that had given me an ounce of pleasure in the last three years was the very same thing that was now a threat to my sanity. The sanity that I was barely hanging onto by a very weak thread.

I stayed that way with my head between my thighs while my best friend rubbed my back soothingly as my mind raced. Then she started singing my song, and it was like I was hearing the words for the first time since I wrote and recorded them myself.

Hearing them from someone else seemed somehow different, or maybe it was the soothing tones she used that snapped me out of it. "I'll do it." She didn't even look surprised; more like she was proud, I would say.

"That's my girl."

"You're sneaky!"

"I promised that I'd be there every step of the way; you didn't think I just meant until the release, did you?"

"No, come on, you've put off your own stuff for way too long."

"Nope, you were always there for me; what kind of friend would I be if I didn't do the same for you when you needed me?"

I hugged her and felt it for the first time. It's not the first human contact I've had since this all started, but it was the first time I felt it, really felt it, and it brought tears to my eyes. "I love you, Sydney, I really do. Thank you for always being here. I don't know how I would've gotten through this without you by my side."

"You'll never have to know because I'll always be here." We sat there with my head on her shoulder, enjoying the silence as I took on the weight of what I'd just committed to. Knowing Sydney, she'd never let me go back on my word, so I was pretty much locked in.

"Great, now what am I going to wear?" We both laughed at that, knowing the chaos that was about to ensue. Hopefully, it'll keep me too busy to stress about the decision that I'd just made.

***

Okay, breathe, Elena, just breathe. How can I when it feels like there's a bolder on my chest and ice in my veins? Why did I let myself be talked into this again? Why did I fool myself into thinking that I was ready, that I would be okay? Just as I thought, the weeks following my acceptance had been hectic enough to keep my mind off of what was coming.

The hours spent choreographing and rehearsing had helped both mentally and physically, but now that D-day was here, I felt like a failure. I wanted to run out of there, straight back to bed, and pull the covers over my head for the next week until this all blew over.

"Great, I found you. What're you doing back here alone?" Sydney looked around at the darkest corner I could find to hide in the midst of all the hustle and bustle that was the backstage of these things. My only saving grace is that no one seemed to have noticed my absence but leave it to her to be the only one.

"Look at me! You're a professional; you can do this; this is what you've dreamed of your whole life, what you've worked for since you were a child. So, what if he's here? Perfect, show him that he means nothing to you, show all of them that they didn't break you, show the whole damn world."

Okay, she was still pissed at my ex. Since we haven't spoken of him in all these years, I never really knew, though it was suspected. But there was no mistaking the venom in her voice when she spoke of him and 'them.' Them would be the clique made up of his wife and her friends. A group of mean girls who seemed to have forgotten that we were no longer in high school and never knew how to act accordingly.

In the very beginning, when I was trauma-seeking, their names would always show up in mentions with my ex and his wife. They made for a very happy bunch back then, but I haven't heard anything about them lately since, even with the success of my newly released single, I've still steered clear of all social media.

Rachel has been in charge of that aspect of my life for some time now, and she knows better than to mention them even though they had been a few slipups here and there of late. She, like Sydney, thinks it's high time I face my fears head-on; they just go about making their opinions known in very different ways.

Believe it or not, Sydney is the more patient of the two; as for Rachel, she talks a good game when it comes to pushing me, but when it seems to be too much, she'd be the first to backpedal. And none of that is of any use to me tonight. I need to get out of my head long enough to get through this and then go back to where I was before.

I know one thing, I'll never do this again. After tonight, I'll never make a promise to put myself out there. I wasn't ready; I thought I was, and maybe everyone else around me probably thought I should be, but I'm just not. This was a mistake.

"This was a mistake; I can't do this.

"Okay, fine, let's get out of here then."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, if you can't do it, I'm not going to force you. That's not what friends do. So come on. I'll make some sort of distraction while you sneak out the back."

"But wait, wait a minute. Everyone did so much to make this happen; there's so much that went into this. How can I let all those people down? I can't… Oh, you're good."

"Who me? What did I do? I haven't said a word." She zipped her lips with a straight face, but I wasn't buying it.

"You still wanna get out of here, kid? You don't have to think about anyone or anything else. Just think about yourself and what you wanna do. If you stay, fine; if you leave, that's also fine. Your choice." I took a deep breath and tried to remember everything I'd learned in my mental health sessions with others who were suffering the same as me.

Of course, now that I needed it, my mind kept drawing a blank. But their faces, the faces of all those men and women who'd found the bravery to speak their truth in a circle of strangers, will never fade. How many more were out there, just like me? Without a voice, with no one to speak up for them.

"I'll do it." Not for the celebrities sitting out there waiting to get their first look at me in the flesh since they watched my life explode catastrophically before their eyes three and a half years ago. But for those countless faceless sufferers who had no voice.

A feeling of calm came over me, and I knew I could do it. The smile on Sydney's face was further proof that I was making the right choice. "Come on, let's get you ready." I kept myself from thinking about anything other than those faces. Through my makeup touchup, a few breathing exercises, and voice checks, I thought only of those faces in that circle and held onto my calm.

I heard nothing else that went on, listening only for my name. I knew it was close because Sydney disappeared from my side with a quick kiss on my cheek. I didn't hear the words she said because I'd gone slightly deaf and numb by this point.

I walked out on that stage with my heart thundering. The lights were blinding, and the roar of the crowd sounded more like rushing waters than human voices. I opened my mouth and started to sing the song by rote, but even I could hear the strain in my voice.

The first few lines came out shaky and amateurish, and then it happened. My eyes, though I'd promised to keep them trained in one spot and stay there, had drifted right into his. Oh fuck I'm going to die right here. Floor, just open up and swallow me, please. I heard Sydney's voice call out to me in the crowd, drawing my gaze away from his and onto her.

The fear drifted away little by little; then the shakes became less and less until my voice gained strength, and I let the words and the music wash over me. Midway through, though, when it was almost time to sing the new song that had not been released anywhere, I started having second thoughts.

Though it was hard to hide the fact that the first song was all about him and what he'd done to me, the next one was all about my glow-up. I'm not feeling very glowy right now. Still, there was no way to stop it now, no way out.

I closed my eyes as the final strains of the first song came and segued into the next effortlessly. The roar of the crowd almost drowned me out and helped me get through it until the end. I barely remember walking off the stage or what happened next.

It was over; I'd done it, and from the sound of the crowd out there, not to mention the standing ovation, I hadn't made a complete ass of myself. The rest of the night was a blur. The after party that I wanted no part of, the many compliments and congratulations that I fielded from people I once knew, it all just went by relatively fast, and I was able to make my escape in a decent manner and without drawing too much attention to myself.

"Did you see the look on Ryder's face? He couldn't keep his eyes off you." I looked at Rachel, and the words I wanted to say got lost in my throat, and my tongue felt too heavy.

"Why the fuck would you say something like that to her right now?" Sydney yelled and wrapped her arm around me protectively.

"I wanna leave; I wanna go home. Get me out of here, please."

"Okay, chicklet, we're leaving." She motioned someone over, and the next thing I knew, we were being ushered out the backdoor of the swanky nightclub we were at.

It was only in the safety of the backseat of the chauffeur-driven car that I realized that I was doing what I've always done, running away again. Still, I couldn't dredge up the strength to give a shit what anyone thought. For some reason, those faceless people flashed across my mind, and a new idea was born.