***"And I, well, if I ever caused you trouble***
***And oh, no, I never meant to do you harm." - Coldplay***
***Holden Young***
I’ve always been good at making people laugh. Whether it was because I had enough money to keep them happy or because of my charm, I could never really tell.
Cyrus was the first to notice my cheerful mood. He refused to admit the reason behind it but liked how I could get even the most uptight suits to dance in the palm of my hand.
I could say this sudden burst of happiness was due to the contract we signed, the possibility of a tour in the coming months, or the fact that I was finally living my dream. But attributing it to any of those would be avoiding the real reason. The truth is, the source of my joy has eyes so blue they leave me blind.
During my visits, I’ve been careful not to be seen too easily. The media keeps trying to weave a narrative that connects us—something Alissa would hate.
The PR team has done an excellent job keeping her out of the spotlight, but it’s only a matter of time before the public digs deeper.
In the meantime, I dodged the news and gossip, repeatedly stating that no one was to blame for the accident. I do everything I can to spare her from more stress.
But Alissa doesn’t seem shaken only by the accident. I overheard the doctor mention scars on her legs and back, which made me wonder about her past. I also noticed how she flinched at the slightest touch last night. I spent hours blaming myself for that. I should’ve realized just how serious her situation is.
I remember when we were younger. She’d spend afternoons hiding at my house, far from the shouting and cruel hands of her parents. I taught her how to play guitar while she bit her pencil, struggling with the words for her lyrics.
I fell for her quickly. She was sweet behind her sharp edges, and that made her perfect.
“Sorry, hopeless romantic, but Sleeping Beauty will have to wait.” Cyrus’s voice yanked me out of my memories as he clapped me on the shoulder. “We’ve got a photo shoot and a radio interview.”
Great. A few more hours of torture before finding out if Alissa would finally tell me why she left all those years ago. But something in me already knew I wouldn’t like the truth.
\[…\]
I walked into the studio with Cyrus trailing close behind. The host’s smile was far too big to be genuine. I sat down, prepared for the usual questions: the contract, the tour, inspirations—everything by the book.
*But today wouldn’t be that simple.*
“Holden, we’ve been hearing great things about your career. A new contract, a tour on the horizon…”
“Yes, I’m excited. It’s rewarding to see everything coming together,” I replied with a polite smile, as the interview was being broadcast live. My tone was polished and robotic. But the glint in her eyes told me something was coming.
“We’ve also heard about a recent accident.” And there it was. She paused, perfectly timed. “And about the victim you visited in the hospital.”
I took a deep breath, already thinking of the responses I’d rehearsed for this topic.
“It was an unfortunate accident, but anyone would’ve done the same in my position.”
“Of course, but not everyone has a packed schedule like yours. She must be special to earn your attention.” They’re vultures.
“It was simply a matter of empathy, nothing more.” I knew what she was doing, and I didn’t like it.
“Understood.” She smiled, but that sly glint remained. “Still, fans are curious. Who is this girl?”
That was it. She’d found my limit.
“I believe her privacy is far more important than the public’s curiosity.” The smile on my face didn’t match the passive-aggressive edge in my voice.
The silence that followed was heavy until she finally changed the subject. When the interview ended, I ripped off the microphone and walked out. Cyrus followed me down the hall, his gaze as sharp as his words. Okay, I deserved it.
“You lost control.” The smell of his menthol cigarette had already burned into my senses from how much he smoked.
“It was a setup,” I stated.
“No, it was you being emotional. This will only fuel more curiosity about her.” He had a point, but it was too late now.
He sighed. “Go home, Holden. *Don’t go after her.*”
I didn’t answer. He knew as well as I did that’s exactly what I was going to do.
…
When I parked, I sat staring at the hospital entrance for a few minutes. This was my third week visiting her. She seemed to hate my presence at times, but never stopped me from coming back.
I reached her room’s door, but something about the silence there made me hesitate. The lights were off, and the space felt far too empty. I stepped inside cautiously. The bed was made, the sheets folded neatly in the corner. An uncomfortable emptiness filled me.
“Excuse me.” I stopped a nurse rushing past. “The patient in this room… where is she?”
“She was discharged earlier today.”
“Discharged?” My voice came out louder than I intended. “But she didn’t say anything to me.”
“She left alone,” the nurse said matter-of-factly before continuing on her way.
Alone.
The word echoed in my mind as I stared at the empty room. She’d run away again. That’s when I noticed the folded piece of paper on the nightstand. With trembling fingers, I picked it up and immediately recognized her hurried handwriting.
*Holden, I can’t keep wasting your time. Thank you for everything.*
*—Ali*
Wasting my time? Is that what she thought she was doing?
I walked back to my car in silence, anger building with each step. I had to find her. Even if she didn’t want to be found. Alissa couldn’t keep playing this game.
So, I made a decision. Not the wisest, but desperation has a way of silencing logic.
Since returning to Boston, I hadn’t seen Michael, my best friend. We’d been inseparable in college, but life—and in my case, fame—has a way of creating chasms where bridges once stood. Still, he was the only one who could help me now.
I grabbed my phone as I got into the car, not thinking too much, just scrolling to his name and hitting call. He picked up quickly like he’d been waiting for this for a long time.
“Hey, man! Thought you’d forgotten about me. I heard that when people get famous, their old friends become decorations.” His tone was teasing.
“Sorry, man. Things have been crazy lately… dealing with that accident and everything.”
“Ah, the accident!” He sounded surprised, but then his voice turned more serious. “I saw it on the news. Rough stuff. The girl—she okay?”
“She’s recovering… I think.” My eyes locked on the crumpled note on the passenger seat. “I want to find her again. Make sure she’s okay.”
Michael was silent for a moment. I knew that silence. It was the kind that came before either a huge favor or a lecture.
“Are you trying to find her because you care, or because you’re afraid of a lawsuit?” he finally asked, with his trademark bluntness.
“Both,” I admitted, to avoid further questioning. “Look, I don’t want to drag you into this, but can you help me?”
“Depends on what you need.” I took a deep breath. This was the hard part.
“I need you to look her up in the system. Just to confirm where she is now.” Having a friend who’s a cop can have its perks, after all.
“Holden… do you even realize what you’re asking me?” He sighed on the other end.
“I do. And I hate asking, but it’s important.”
“Fine.” He seemed to be thinking. “Send me her name and some details. I’ll see what I can do, but that’s it, got it? Don’t use this for anything stupid.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“Oh, you owe me a lot more than that.” He chuckled, but then his tone turned serious again. “Just… be careful, Holden. If this girl’s already in the spotlight, you don’t want to make things worse for her.”
When the call ended, I stared at the phone, feeling a mix of relief and guilt. Michael had always been a good friend, but I knew I was asking more of him than I should.
Even so, I needed this information. If I wanted to reach Alissa before she disappeared from my life completely again, this was my only option.
I just didn’t expect Michael’s message that night to reveal far more than I was ready to handle.