Chapter 11

*Elena*

Yes, this is a new chance, a new beginning. It has nothing to do with the entertainment industry, and it's so far out of my comfort zone that I wouldn't know where to begin, but somehow, I know, deep down, that this is what I need to be doing at this time. Not only will it help others, but it will go a long way to helping me. But where do I start?

For someone who wanted to lay low, my thoughts were leading me down a rather sticky path. But the more I think about it, the more sound it seems. How relieving it would be to just come out of the dark and stop living with the ever-present fear of always being found out.

The more I thought of it as the night went on, the more at peace I felt with the idea. Is this what I needed all along? Is this part of what had been holding me back? But where do I start? I doubt my management team would take kindly to me exposing something that I'd gone to such great lengths to keep hidden.

Their biggest worry would be, of course, what the public would think, and how my fans would receive my honesty in this way, but after spending three years in the dark, I find it rather liberating to rebrand myself.

I've always been the child star, the teen idol with the girl next door image, which is all true. But this just might be my chance to be more real than I've ever been. To shed some light on the parts of me that have been kept hidden in the closet all this time. Wouldn't it be awesome to have no more secrets that can be used against me?

It's not like I've committed a crime, and no matter how society treats mental illness, wouldn't I be a great ambassador for the cause? I sat up in bed with new vigor. I don't need to know where to start; I can just start with myself. I have a voice; I have a platform; I'm going to use it, dammit.

I pushed thoughts of the backlash out of my mind as I went for my journal and a pen. I've already been through the worst that can happen, so what now? What're they going to do? Shun me? Will the offers dry up? Would I be put on the back burner like so many others before me?

So what? I've got a fat bank account; my family has been taken care of with homes and retirement funds that should see them through; what do I have to lose? My hands took over, and the words just flowed onto the paper until my hands began to cramp up.

A look at the clock showed that it was almost seven in the morning. I'd been writing for hours and could go for a few more, but it was time to take my medication which was for sure going to make me sleepy anyway, so I hid the journal under my pillow, did my nighttime routine, a few hours later, but whatever and got ready for bed.

I dreamed of him that night, of better times, happier times, and cried in my sleep when I remembered the look on his face when he looked up at me on that stage. There was so much hurt and regret in his eyes, on his face. I know him so well that I'd seen all of that in just a few seconds, and it was tearing my heart out, even in my sleep.

When we were together, I'd stand in the way of anything that could harm him. I was there for all of his highs and lows, and no one worked harder to get him the help he needed but me. I worried about what he was feeling now, only now giving any thought to what he must've been going through in the lead-up to the show.

He must've known that I would be there, that I would be performing, and yet he'd come. What were his expectations upon coming there? Did he expect to prove to himself that he was over me, over us? What was it that he hoped to get out of the night? And did he get what he was after?

I'd been so focused on him that I hadn't even looked at her. In all of this, I tried very hard not to blame her because she never made me any promises; he did. She wasn't the one I'd planned to spend the rest of my life with; he was. So, she owed me nothing.

I don't love her; I don't hate her. I feel nothing towards her except for the part she played in being used to hurt me. In the end, she won, and that's all there is to it. My eyes came open with that realization. That's it! That's what I've been battling all this time. I've been feeling like a failure like I'd let myself down, I'd let him down, and all those people who'd been rooting for us.

But it wasn't me who broke us apart; he'd done that all by himself. Because he didn't talk to me, I'd been carrying around this guilt, blaming myself as if it were my fault that this had happened. What else was I supposed to think?

But now, no. I didn't do a damn thing to deserve to be treated this way. I hadn't broken any promises, hadn't done anything that he would've found suspect. So, no matter the reason, it was his. Everything was his choice, and now it's mine. It's my choice to stop it here and now.

I made up my mind not to share my thoughts with anyone. I'll do all the groundwork, and when the time is right, I'll know who to turn to get the word out. I only had three hours of sleep, but I felt alive for the first time in three and a half years. It was time to take the power back.

***

"I know you don't like looking at social media, but I just had to share this with you." Sydney dropped down on the bed beside me. It had been three weeks since I made up my mind to share my mental anguish with the world, and I'd been busy shut away in my room. Sydney had finally gone back to work, so I had all the time in the world.

Her mention of social media, though, was about to set me back a bit. "No-no, not that face, it's good. Would I mention it to you if it wasn't? You don't have to look; I'll read it to you. So, here we go. Elena Gianni has taken the world by storm. The young actress-turned-singer has released her best album to date."

"The first single took over the charts and has been in the number one spot for more than two weeks at the time of this publication, but what we did not expect was for the entire album to produce hit after hit. Now everyone is holding their breath for what might be in store next for the young superstar."

"Superstar? Really? Let me see that." I took the phone and read the first story and the next and the next after that, all filled with praise and admiration. I'm not gonna lie; my ego was well and truly fed, though, in the back of my mind, I reminded myself that these same people would be tearing me down in a matter of days if given a chance because that's what sells, I guess.

I was proud of myself that I didn't let the praise get to me. I accepted it, of course, and thanked Sydney for sharing it with me, but deep down inside; I think I was over it. When I was trauma-seeking, there were lots of questions about what I could've done to cause Ryder to treat me in that way. There was a lot of speculation that maybe I had done the unthinkable, and he never once defended me or put a stop to the lies.

Now it seems that after the release of the album, which was all songs that were written about the breakup and the hell it had put me through, those same people were now questioning what had really gone on. "That's nice."

"That's it? That's all you have to say?"

"Uh-hmm, you know how I feel about that stuff. I don't want to get sucked back into the drama. You know how it is in this town, one day, they love you, and the next, you're persona non grata. I'm over it."

"Fine! So, what have you been up to? Sorry, I've been so busy lately; how have you been?"

"You've asked me that every night since we last saw each other. I'm doing great; more importantly, how are you doing? How's the album coming along?"

"It's too easy." She laughed, and the tension I didn't even know was there was gone.

I was tempted to bring up what I was working on but decided that it would keep for a bit. I still didn't know where I was going with this, but I knew that I wasn't ready to share, not even with my best friend.

No one knew that I'd been carrying this burden all my life until I had the breakdown in the days following Ryder's wedding, and even then, I tried to play it off the best way I could. But now, I was willing to expose myself without holding anything back.

I wasn't planning to involve anyone else, so there was no danger there, but this was something I needed to do myself. So far, it has been very cathartic putting these thoughts down on paper. The more I write, the more memories came back to the forefront, and now that my head is somewhat clear, I find it much easier to dissect each incident by taking it apart bit by bit.

I now know that I'm not perfect, I do have my flaws, but the one thing I've learned that has shed some light on my malady is the fact that I'm a huge people pleaser. I'd go so far as to let myself down if it would help someone else, especially someone who's dear to me.

I'd held my peace for this long because I didn't want Ryder to be hurt. Even now, as I write my thoughts and relive some of the worst of what he's done to me, the thought of everyone turning against him fills me with dread.

I don't want that; I've never wanted that, I realize. Even at my most hurt, it never entered my mind to wish for him to go through what I have. All I ever wanted to know was why he'd done that to me, to us. But now, it doesn't seem as important anymore.

Too much time has gone by, and too much water under the bridge. He made his choice no matter the reason, and I wasn't it. It was high time I accepted that, not that I had been given much of a choice. But I should maybe stop living with hope, which I realize is what I've been doing all this time.

We'd had so many ups and downs in our relationship, but we always came back to each other because what we had was real. But obviously, something had happened to us that there was no coming back from. He just realized and accepted it before I did. Now it was time for me to do the same.