He could not believe his eyes. Those minions had gone out of their way to do some really dirty job call underground digging only to find out his new place. Tristan had believed he had it all covered up but right now it seemed his new place had not just been busted but making headways all over the internet. At this point was when he could truly say he needed that damn therapist or psychologist; whatever she called herself. He knew he was loosing it at this point and out of anger he might eventually act out rashly. He checked out the name of the news agency and discovered the news had apparently been covered by a whole lot of people making it hard to discern where exactly is the origin. Alright doctor Amanda would come in handy but now it seems he would have to go do some damage control and God, he needed a cigarette.
“Alfredo, get the car started.” he said over the phone.
He got out of his office and headed outside straight. There were press members outside there each trying to get an answer from him. Questions kept flying around at him from every direction. Some wanted to know how long he had been staying there, others asked if he had come to stay for good at Norman. What he knew of course he was that he wanted to deal them all a punch to the face for starters. He was going to the car and there they were behind him following up closely like he was a pot of honey. He had just gotten to the car about to enter as Alfredo held the door when he decided to do something else instead. He suddenly spew around to face them all directly as they got ready to capture his words.
“You know what I want now, I want every one of you off my property before I get back.” he howlers at them all before entering.
Not quite the response they had been expecting from him and it made them start doing a little mental math. Tristan smiled and asked Alfredo to drive them to the nearest grocery store to buy something. Alfredo asked what it was he would be needing and the man said he needed a minty flavoured gum or candy whatever. It made no sense but Alfredo dared not question his angry boss.
They got to the store and the older guy got off the car. Tristan smiled, it was just as he thought. There was another store opposite that one and he took his shades and fez cap, threw them on and walked there without caring at all about the little people taking his pictures and cooing over him or dare I say gushing. He walked over to the counter and demanded for a pack of his all time favourite cigarette which was not available forcing him to settle for his second best. Tristan paid with his card and pocketed the stuff. He would smoke on that when he gets to his car. His phone began ringing, Alfredo was calling and he was going away already.
“Where have you been sir?,” Alfredo asked him
“Oh me, I’ve been around. Taking a look around,” he said with a snicker.
The old man was acting like he suspected him but who cares. There was no way he would come at him to tear the cigarette off his mouth when he starts smoking now would there? he wondered. He got into the car and closed the door before fishing out his lighter from the place he kept them. Alfredo knew better than throw those away. Tristan put a cigarette between his lips and started lighting it up. Alfredo was abashed.
“Oh no sir, the doctor said….,” he began
“F*** the doctor Alfredo and get to driving.” Tristan said.
The old man refused to start the car and Tristan stopped what he was doing to demand what his problem was exactly.
“No way I’m driving you sir with you trying to kill yourself.” he said and got off the car.
Marvelous, Tristan started a really weird laugh. He checked his pocket for any note at all and found some. Smiling, he got off the car and found Alfredo standing outside. Tristan tossed the notes on his chest as he opened the car and got in. Before closing the door, he turned to the old man looking all the more surprised.
“You don’t want to drive me, well be my guest but so you know, I’m deducting that bit from your pay this month.” he said and pulled the car into the road.
It felt fun really and turns out this was the second time apparently that he would be ditching his adorable driver. He had his head full with really so much and wanted to get it all sorted out. He might have gone to a bar but that would be him forcing attention to where he is and all. He punched home address on the map and was on the way home. There was no point returning to the restaurant that day as his curse of being a celebrity had been activated again.
There might have been a time when Tristan Jenkins would have enjoyed more or less clamoured for the attention but not anymore. This time he seemed to be wanting a rather quiet and progressive life. Perhaps it was too late or perhaps he would be better if he gets home and sips good wine. Tristan was smoking while driving as he increased his volume. The highway to hell was playing and possibly with him disobeying the good old doctor, he was on a highway to hell.
He got home eventually and the members of his staff dared not ask questions. He had seen about three buses parked at strategic points around the area where they could capture him and could tell it was the press and paparazzi. They were all trying to beat each other on what they thought to be the latest happening with him.
He walked over, took a glass and a bottle of wine before going to where should have been his study. The room was empty except for something he had brought over to the place. It was something he had not done in a really long time but it seemed like it was beckoning on him to come touch it. The piano had been so long and the reason he had the bad blood with his father. Perhaps some other time he would delve into that story of his. Tristan took off his shades, cap and polo. He was bare at the torso and he went to sit down there. The ashtray was close by, he only poured himself a drink and then took a sip. It went through his nostrils, the scent he enjoyed so much. Next his hand traced the keys and his finger hit a key. There it was, the one thing to set him off on crazy lane. That sound had awakened something really crazy within him and that crazy was just about right for the moment. Tristan began playing, a very rowdy and tense tone he had not played in a rather long time as he drank from time to time.
The last time he played that exact tone was the night his father had come to his place and slapped him straight on the face. It was the night he severed ties with the old man. Today he had no idea why of all tones it had to be that exact one coming into his head. He played with so much zeal that he was sweating all over. Tristan was high but he wanted to climb further to see where that leads him.
Trust me, it did not end well that day as the first blood spot landed on the keys. He saw it but chose to ignore it and kept playing. He wanted to keep playing nonstop until his fingers hurt or perhaps he could not hear anything anymore. The last option was actually based on what was happening at the moment. His vision was beginning to blur and the sound getting faint. He was not stopping, he just wanted to keep playing.
Thing with him was Tristan did not want his family to know anything about him or his whereabouts. He did not want anyone finding out that he had been sick or had come there to recuperate. It was against his father particularly that he did not want to be found wanting. The old man had done him a fatal blow back then which he cared less about it being his fault, he should have tried to understand him. His phone was ringing and through blurry eyes he read the screen. It was the doctor. He paused playing for the moment and picked up the phone.
“Hello doctor,” he said
“Tristan…. Alfredo called. Are you alright?,” she asked him.
Tristan might have given her an answer but suddenly he could not. He felt he was falling off and that he was exactly. The phone fell off his hand and he landed with a thud on the floor, his head connecting with the ground. He was feeling cold and faint even as he heard the doctor calling him.
“Tristan?… Tristan?… oh my God… Tristan?.” she called out worriedly.
The last thing he heard was the door opening and footsteps coming towards him as a man called out. That was Alfredo. The good old man was back already. Tristan smiled as he went out cold.