The True One

Chapter 5 Part 1

Verity

The urge to run first hit me on the bus heading north from SoCal. One moment, I was laughing with my friends; the next I was being smacked in the face with the thought that I've been doing my life wrong. The right thing seemed so obvious that I should stop continuing my wrong life and start doing what I was meant to do—start becoming who I was meant to become.

But first I had to escape.

The thought made me panic.

My friends didn't pick up on my sudden mood change. They paid little attention to anything while I gazed out the window at the world streaming by, wishing I was out there in the trees, even though I had no idea why I would wish such a thing.

There was a song in this—one I intended to write lyrics for later, but first, I needed to understand why the only person who seemed to realize something was up with me was the one I wished would remain oblivious.

Alek

He stood in the back of the van surveying everything but mainly observing me. His gaze fell like a weight on my shoulders. I took it as another sign that I was being strangled by my life. I let him watch me for a moment, my focus still out the window.

My senses went wild. Flora's lavender deodorant, my head dancer, Macy's lipstick red like blood, the constant thud of the tires turning over pavement. And always, that newly cut wood smell from Alek.

This seemed the opposite of a trance, where instead of being insensible to the world, I was more aware of everything than should be possible.

My body tingled with nerves. I had a concert to perform, I had a new song idea to jot down, I had my friends, my fabulous tour van. But the sounds and smells and colors were all too vibrant and I couldn't control how my brain filtered them.

The urge to escape grew with the anxiety. No matter what I did, it wasn't what I should be doing. No matter how fortunate I was—to see, to hear, to be with—I needed to get the fuck out.

The thought that I was trapped in the wrong life made me want to cry and scream. But I wouldn't do either. The people around me depended on me. I was their friend and their paycheck. If I escaped this wrong life, what would they do?

And where would I even go?

A deep melancholy set in. I shook myself to see if I could be rid of it, but sorrow had settled into my bones. It felt a part of me, like an old friend you secretly hated but still spent all your waking hours with.

And then there was Alek in the back.

Still watching.

Anticipating my next move.

I pried my eyes away from the window, from the escape that would have to wait until later.

He met my gaze with restraint—a thin lipped pensive expression that I suspected hid emotions he didn't want to reveal. If I were to guess, though, I'd say he was disappointed. He'd been expecting something from me that I didn't want to give to him.

I didn't trust that man, especially after researching him. It turned out Alek had been in the treasure hunting tourism industry prior to becoming a bodyguard. I hadn't even known such a thing existed, but from what the Internet told me, he'd been one of the most sought-after guides. So why, if that career was going so well, had he suddenly switched to private security. And why the hell had someone with no bodyguard experience been hired to be mine. Something wasn't right about him. I hated having a bodyguard on principle but having one with ulterior motives...no wonder I was so out of sorts.

Flora nudged me with an urgency that meant she'd discovered another hilarious video of a singing bird that she absolutely had to show me. I allowed myself to laugh.

"That cockatoo really does love Elvis," I said. I kept my eyes on the phone. I wouldn't look out the window and I would not look over at Alek again. They were both forbidden as far as I was concerned.

The sadness receded, but the urge to escape remained.

It remained when we arrived at the venue. It remained during the run through. During dinner, and the show, and the afterparty. I sang and danced to make it go away. Normally, most of anything troubling me would dissipate during a show. Performing was the ultimate live in the moment experience, and yet, this moment, every moment, became about one thing: Getting the fuck out of my life.

I drank afterwards in another failed attempt to tamp down this urge. The night wore on and I inched my way closer to a crossroads between despair and escape. I made sure everyone was happy. I made sure Alek drank his fair share. He accepted several of the drinks handed to him—another sign that this bodyguard business of his was fake. He didn't drink to excess but the fact that he did at all struck me as both hilarious and horrifying. Alek had come into this job with little idea of how to perform it. This, however, could only work in my favor tonight.

When it was time to return to the bus, I made sure Macy was near the front of the pack. She styled her hair like mine, was only half an inch shorter than me, and had a similar figure. If one wasn't being overly observant, say because it was two in the morning and they'd been imbibing, from behind she could be mistaken for me.

My party of people floated like a cloud out the club doors. I slowed my pace. They were my friends and my employees. They were here for me, but I was still forgettable. I let myself fall behind; a bit of the fluffy cloud broken off from the rest.

By the time they realized I wasn't on the bus, I was already gone. 

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Author's Note: Another half chapter... expect part 2 in a few days. We'll see what happens to Verity after she's taken off. What do you think is about to happen? Stay tuned!