https://youtu.be/aeUKh4VDEbQ

Elias

I'm standing still, but the room's turned sideways.

Sideways and spinning.

When everything's supposed to be right side up.

But my insides are upside down.

And everything outside's closing in.

I've been here before.

I know this space. This feeling.

The weight pushing down on my chest, while my ribs shatter and break under the kind of pressure they're not meant to take.

And, I can't breathe.

I blink, the whole bookstore disappears, and suddenly I find myself lying on the concrete.

Lying alone in a pile of twisted metal and glass.

And, I can't breathe.

God, I can't breathe.

My lungs don't remember how because panic's puncturing them with twisted metal and glass.

I gasp.

And I want to scream.

But, there's no sound around here.

There's nothing but shadows and pain.

I open my mouth again to say her name so she hears me.

So she can pull me out of this space.

But there's no air in this place.

I'm stuck in between the here and now and my past.

I shut my eyes because if these memories last another moment,

I'll crack into a million little pieces.

In front of a million little strangers who are waiting on my next mistake.

So I blink again, switch back into the reality I can take,

And find myself in the bookstore,

Still a boy wearing the crumbling mask of a man.

Standing in the place where the panic began.

Alone.

In a crowded room,

Full of no-named faces.

I find myself,

Without her.

Without air.

Without anyone who understands.

And I can't breathe.

God, I can't breathe.

I back into the corner of the stage and watch waves of people closing in around me. I'm drowning.

In their questions. In their desperation. In their obsessions. In Jersey's absence.

I need her here. I need her voice to ground me. To tell me everything's okay. That she's not upset. That she doesn't regret this, or us, or everything I said.

I still can't believe what I fucking said.

Everything was fine. I saw it on her face. I saw her eyes light up from behind her tears, while she stood in the back of the room with the truth scribbled on her hand.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything.

I lost my mind, lost control of my mouth, and handed her name to the crowd.

And they're devouring it. Alex's name is on everyone's lips when it should only be on mine.

But now every single person in this room owns a piece of who she is--all they have to do is dig until they find the rest of the puzzle.

Panic steps up to the plate and smashes a home run of a swing right into the center of my chest.

Shock knocks the fight out of me and my whole body goes numb.

I stumble backwards a little too fast, trip over my feet, and hit the stage floor with a thud that brings the chaos in the room to a stop. Lisa pushes through the mob and says something to me, but I can't hear her.

My hearts beating so fast the only sound filling my ears is the rush of blood swirling around my skull. I shut my eyes hoping it'll stop the room from tilting off its axis, but it doesn't change a damn thing. Even in the dark I can feel myself spiraling out of control along with the situation.

The razor pinch of Lisa's nails in my arm snaps me out of the shadows and forces me back up to the surface. She's yelling.

I can't tell if she's yelling because she's worried or because she's pissed that I'm ruining her event, but she barks at security to help me stand up when my body refuses to do it on it's own.

Two bulky arms hook themselves under mine, and I'm back on my feet again, but my legs are still too stiff and clumsy to do much of anything. Lisa turns back towards the crowd and frantically motions to them to back off the stage.

And then the impossible happens. They listen. They actually listen. Row after frenzied row of frenzied fans shuffle out of the way while Lisa clears a path for me to the staff room.

Security ushers me into the crowd trying to get me out of sight and into a private place as fast as possible, but everybody's already seen too much.

A thousand pairs of eyes are on me. Elias King the joke. The guy who's panic owns and controls him to the point where he can't walk, talk, or breathe.

The room's totally silent except for the sound of my lungs caving in on themselves, while the world watches it happen. Every couple seconds a flash goes off on the sidelines and a handful of others follow suit.

Lisa barks orders at the press to stop taking pictures and "respect" the fact that we're in the middle of a "medical emergency".

But this isn't even close.

Panic attacks are a walk in the park compared to being stuck in the middle of an intersection, wondering how the ground could be so warm on such a cool night, until you realize where the warmth is coming from.

And where all the blood is coming from.

That was an emergency.

This is a different kind of crisis.

Even though so many parts of it feel the same.

I don't know where Jersey is. Or if she's okay. Or if she's trying to get a hold of me.

My hands aren't mine to control right now so checking my phone is out of the question. Doing anything but what Lisa says is out of the question. So I follow her through the crowd and into the staff room where a very concerned-looking store manager is waiting for the group of us.

Lisa orders security to help me down into an office chair in the corner of the room. She slaps on her PR face and assures Mr. Manager that I'm fine even though he can clearly see that I'm not.

I ignore the conversation and focus all my energy on trying calm down to the point where I can get my hands to coordinate themselves enough to dig my phone out of my pocket. I try to remind my lungs how to breathe the way Dan taught me. It half works, but I'm still wheezing like a penny whistle.

I don't want Jersey to hear me like this, but I need to talk to her.

Sadly, life doesn't give a shit about giving me what I need.

So I decide to wrestle the anxiety raging in my veins until I get back in control.

I push through the panic, grab my phone, and find a series of missed calls from Jersey plastered across my screen.

It takes me a half a second to make the decision to call her back.

It takes Lisa even less time to snatch my phone out of my hand and lock it away in her attache.

"What the fuck, Lisa?!"

I go almost twenty minutes without saying a word and the first ones out of my mouth couldn't feel more perfect. Dan used to tell me that the best thing to stop a panic attack in its tracks was finding a method to calm myself down, but apparently losing my shit works wonders too.

I sit up and grab for her bag, but she hands it to a security guard who she knows I'm not stupid enough to fight with to get it back.

"Don't even start with me right now, Elias. Do you have any idea of the kind of shit storm you just caused? What the hell happened to you out there?"

"I'm not good with crowds. We've been over this."

"Honey, I've dealt with talent that aren't good with crowds before, but that episode wasn't anywhere close to being a case of stage fright. Is there something going on that you're not telling me about? In case you've forgotten, you're contractually required to tell me if there are any changes that interfere with you being able to meet your press obligations and--"

She starts talking a million miles a minute so tune her out. I have absolutely no intention of explaining the extent of my problems in anymore detail than I already have. I told her about the whole anxiety thing when I first signed with her because I thought she'd understand.

I thought she meant it when she told me that she'd only book me events that I was comfortable with, so we could avoid "aggravating" my condition. But that's the thing about publicists. They say a lot of fancy-schmancy bullshit when there's money to be made and a contract on the table. But as soon as Lisa got my name on the dotted line, she turned back into person she always was-- another shark out for blood.

"Are you even listening to me?! Can you or can't you finish this event? There's over five hundred people out there who paid to get a signed copy of your book!"

"Lisa, I will do anything you want if it'll get you to stop talking and give back my fucking phone."

Lisa startles a little. It's small, but she jumps back at the bite in my voice and I immediately regret snapping at her at all. I've seen that reaction before. Mom used to do it all the time whenever Dad got angry or impatient with her.

Maybe these are the moments my mom keeps noticing. The ones where I lose my temper to the point where I'm not just like him, I am him.

I get up out of my chair and pull Lisa into a hug she's clearly not prepared for. She doesn't hug me back. She just stands there waiting until I finish while I try to hide my embarrassment behind a genuine apology.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out at you like that, I'm just--I--"

She worms her way out of my grip and straightens out the creases in her suit jacket.

"It's fine. Look, can you do this event or not?"

She asks me like I have a choice. If I cancel, I'll be letting down every single person who made this book possible, and I can't do that. They're the reason I got into UCLA, they're the reason my mom doesn't have to worry about college tuition, they're the reason my book got big enough to bring Jersey back.

I can't leave.

Even though I want to.

Even though the only thing running through my mind is where Jersey ran off to.

I'm stuck here whether I want to be, or not.

"I'll do the signing under one condition," I say.

Something like relief washes over Lisa's face, but she still looks angry. Probably the Botox.

"I need to make a phone call. It'll be two minutes tops. I promise."

She snaps open her bag, whips out my phone, but still hesitates to hand it to me.

"Depends on who you're calling."

"How is that any of your business?" I say.

I reach for the phone, but my body's too slow and too clumsy to keep up with her.

"I'm your publicist, Elias. Everything's my business. You better be ready to fill me in on every last detail of who that Alex girl is because the press is going to want to know every last--"

My phone sounds off in her hand, and Lisa nearly drops it when she sees which caller is lighting up the screen.

Jersey.

Her eyes dart back and forth between me and Jersey's name glowing in the center of my phone.

She switches on the speaker and answers the call before I can do anything to stop her.

"Hello? Elias, are you--"

"Lisa here. Elias is outside at the signing and can't come to the phone. Who may I ask is speaking?"

Lisa looks right at me, right through me, her eyes locked, loaded, and ready to kill. I stop breathing and start praying, hoping to God Jersey won't fall into the trap Lisa's just set for the both of us.

"Oh, hi Lisa! It's Alex, Elias's assistant. Could you tell Elias to call me immediately--it's urgent and I--"

The phone cuts out.

Completely.

I stand there soaked through my clothes in sweat, just waiting for Lisa's reaction.

For the spark before the fire.

Half of me hopes she'll have the decency to call Jersey back or hand me the phone so I can find out why she sounded to scared, ask her where she is, and if she's okay.

But Lisa crushes my hopeless optimism with a single motion.

She unlocks her bag and drops my phone back inside where I can't reach it.

My mouth's too dry to speak. And even if I could, I don't know what I'd say.

What do you say to someone who owns your secrets?

"And, when were you gonna tell me, Elias?"

"I wasn't. I didn't think you needed to know."

"I need to know everything when it comes to you. Otherwise, I can't protect you if you're slipping details to the public that I don't know about. They're going to eat you alive, Elias. Making mistakes like the one you did earlier could cost you everything. You, me, and that girl."

"I would do anything for that girl. I'd protect that girl with my life and what we do together isn't anybody's business."

Lisa looks me up and down and crushes my paper thin attempt at confidence with a bat of an eyelash. I know what she's gonna say before she says it. I just wish she wasn't right.

"Honey, she's everybody's business now."

***

Thirty seconds after I force myself to sign the 500th book of the evening, I thank the crowd and sprint off-stage to find Lisa. She's blabbering into her phone in the back of the staff room and ends the call right when I step in the door.

"You, outside, now. We're going to sushi to talk."

"I'm not going anywhere until you give me back my phone, so I can figure out where my girlfriend is."

Lisa's eye twitches like crazy.

"Your girlfriend is the last thing on my list of priorities right now."

"Well, she's on the top of mine, so you can give me my phone back or go to sushi by yourself," I say.

She grabs her bag, digs my iPhone out of its jaws, and shoves it over in my direction.

"There. Get ready to walk and text, King. There are still fans around, and we can't afford anyone eavesdropping on your phone calls and spreading rumors all over the place, so wait until we get inside the car to call her back. Clear?"

"Whatever you say, Lis."

Security flanks me again, and I follow their lead while firing off a series of texts to Jersey. She doesn't respond to anything which sends my blood pressure through the roof. She's usually pretty good about texting back, but tonight she's quiet.

Maybe she's pissed at me. Maybe her phone's dead. Maybe she's in trouble. My mind starts going to places that it shouldn't, so I open my contacts and pull up Indigo to see if she can calm me down. If anyone knows where Jersey is, it's her. Worse comes to worst she can always use her weird voodoo powers to find my girlfriend.

Text message to "Go-Go" :

EK: You still up?

GG: The night is young and my restlessness eternal. What's up?

EK: Jersey's missing. I brought her to a signing, and things got out of control.

GG: Out of control how?

EK: I kinda told her I loved her.

GG: Impressive.

EK: But it was in front of about 500 or so fans and a bunch of press and cameras, and she kinda freaked.

GG: Ooh, You're quite the flawed soul.

EK: I get that, but that's not important right now. Have you seen her? Or heard from her? Is she back in my room?

GG: No, but there's a lot of visitors outside waiting for you.

EK: What do you mean?

GG: Camera people. They're hanging outside the dorm, and I'm pretty sure they're not here for me.

EK: Shit. Look, can you call me when Jersey gets home?

GG: As you wish.

EK: You don't think anything happened to her, right? She doesn't know her way around LA aside from the buses. Crazy people ride the buses.

GG: You're a crazy person, and she rides around with you so, I don't see your point.

EK: I'm serious, Go-Go. I'm worried about her.

GG: Don't. Alex is a powerful spirit, she can fend for herself. Besides, the cosmic connection between my roomie and I would tell me if she was in danger.

EK: For real? Can your powers tell you where she is?

GG: No.

EK: How about what she's doing?

GG: She's losing herself to find herself.

EK: What does that even mean?!

GG: When a soul is lost, it always wanders back to the places it knows. Places that feel familiar. Safe.

EK: Like where?

GG: Who knows? I'm not a GPS, Elias. I'm just sensitive to nuances of people's cosmic journeys. Figure it out.

EK: Thanks.

GG: Good luck on your spiritual quest, and if she's not home in a couple hours, call the cops.

EK: Wait. Does that mean you think something's wrong?

GG: Namaste.

EK: Go go?!

Indigo stops answering my texts by the time I get back to the car. Lisa slides in next to me and makes the backseat feel fifteen times smaller than it already does. Our driver peels out of The Grove and zooms up Fairfax weaving in and out of traffic like crazy.

I call Jersey, once, twice, fifteen times until my hands start shaking and my fears fill in the silence on the opposite end of the telephone line.

Panic takes hold like a vice grip around my throat again, and I roll down the window so I can breathe. I try to lose myself in the lights over Hollywood Blvd. I fool my brain into focusing on the flashes of cameras and the flickering signs instead of freaking out over Jersey. But the illusion only holds my attention for so long.

The car comes to a stand still at Hollywood and Orange, and Lisa starts screaming at the driver to dodge gridlocked traffic. I stare out at the crowd right as we roll up next to the Chinese Theater and let my eyes wander over nameless faces until one catches my attention. My hand's on the door handle, and I'm out of the car before I realize what I'm reacting to.

I dart out into the middle of standstill traffic and sprint across six lanes while Lisa calls out after me to stop. I block out her voice and weave my way through rows of tail lights until I stumble onto the sidewalk.

There's hundreds of people out on the boulevard, tourists stopping to stare up at the Hollywood marquees like they're something worth staring at. But this place is nothing but smoke and mirrors. Cheap, painted backdrops that are as fake as the movies.

But my eyes aren't drawn to the lights or distractions, they're focused on the only real thing standing alone in front of TCL's Chinese theater. I shove my way through streams of fast-moving people, fighting to keep my head above water while the sidewalk rush tries to swallow me whole.

But the second I step into the clearing, I catch the profile of the only face I wanna see.

The only thing still in a world that's been rushing by stealing the air from my lungs.

Jersey's only a few feet in front of me standing under the shadow of the theater pagoda. Her head's tilted up towards the smog-covered stars and her dark brown hair's cascading down the back of her white dress.

The dark blue sky plays the perfect backdrop to that same vision of light I saw back at Belmar. I take a second to take her in, breathe, and convince myself that the storm raging in my chest won't pull me under this time.

But it already has. She already has.

I'm sinking into the concrete the closer I get to her, but I need to be closer. Some part of me always has.

Even when I thought I hated her.

Even when I thought I'd convinced myself that I could walk away from her.

I couldn't.

I still can't.

I don't know if I know how to anymore.

All these people on the street just pass her by like she's not even there, but she stands out against everything and above everyone around her.

As far as the rest of the world's concerned, she probably looks like another tourist who's lost and confused in the middle of a lost and confused city. But Los Angeles lives and breathes in her veins now. This city is as much hers as it is mine because our story started here.

Right here.

The two of us stood on top of these same concrete slabs handprinted by the stars, and I kissed her for the first time.

She won our bet in less than thirty seconds that night.

I never told her.

I never told anyone because half of me couldn't believe it happened that fast.

That easy.

She kissed me, and I fell out of myself.

I fell so hard it broke every bone in my body, shattered my pride, and left me scattered all over Hollywood Blvd.

That night, it took her half a minute to have me in the palm of her hand.

And a little over 365 days later, she still does.

I take another step towards her, but I'm not close enough for her to notice me yet. I watch her for a couple more seconds in total silence.

Her chucks are dusted black with all the damn dirt she must've picked up walking here, and the bottom of her dress is crumpled as hell. She's a picture of nervous habits, and I notice every single one of them. Her bottom lip's pinched between her teeth and her hair's all twisted and tangled to one side.

She looks so much smaller and more breakable than I know her to be. I'm probably the reason for it. But I don't want to be anymore.

I want to earn her forgiveness and her patience, a genuine apology at a time.

My body starts moving towards her again before my mind has the time to process what the hell it's doing. I step through the middle of a passing crowd and fight through the chaos until I get to her.

My arms gravitate to her waist, and I slide into the space behind her without saying a word. I hold her against me as gently as I can and tilt my head down until my chin meets the softest spot on her shoulder. I breathe her in, and my whole body relaxes. She smells like apples, and asphalt, and that little bit of something else that makes her her.

I should be saying something. I should be apologizing for not answering her calls in time, for letting her name slip at the bookstore, and scaring her to the point where she had to run out of the venue to keep away from the crowd. But I'm too caught up in her atmosphere to speak.

Jersey shifts in my arms and right when I expect her to turn around and talk to me the back of her fist goes flying into my face instead. Her knuckles crash straight into the bridge of my nose, and the impact sends me stumbling backwards.

She sends her heel straight down onto the top of my foot and pins me in place so I can't move. She snakes her hands around my right arm, steadies her grip, and anchors her body against mine. And then the whole world flips upside down.

Literally.

My feet fly over my head, my back slams against the concrete, and the rest of me comes crashing down against the ground in one solid thud.

My lungs spasm for what feels like a minute and a half before they finally remember how to breathe. I gasp in mouthfuls of air while everyone and their grandmother stops to look at me lying on the floor like some kind of injured zoo animal.

I have no idea what just happened. Or who the girl who just attacked me like a is because it sure as hell couldn't be Jersey.

I mean, I knew she was strong. She's always been strong, but flipping me over like a flapjack has never happened. Ever.

And I'd really like it, if it never happened again (at least outside of the bedroom anyway).

"Elias?! Holy lasagna! Are you okay?"

Yep. That's Jersey's voice, and her shaky little hands groping my shoulders.

I never thought I'd say this, but my girlfriend just kicked my ass, and if I wasn't in so much pain, I'd probably be extremely turned on right now.

I keep my eyes closed, stay completely still, and hold my breath just to see what she does. Maybe if I play dead I can get a read on whether or not she's pissed at me for my screw up. Time to find out.

"Elias? Please get up. Please do something. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just thought you were a stranger. I'm so--"

"Ma'am, is he breathing? I don't think he's breathing."

A husky guy's voice sounds off from somewhere in the crowd, and I suck in a quick, subtle breath through my nose and then go right back to playing CSI victim.

Jersey's hair brushes across my neck as she leans in and takes the side of my face in her hands.

"Oh gosh. What did I do? Please be okay. Please be okay. Okay, Alex. Think. What did they teach you in First Aid? Pinch the nose, tilt up the chin, open the mouth, and--"

Her lips land on mine, but it's hardly a kiss at first. Having someone blow air down your throat when you don't need it is an awkward feeling to say the least. But right before she pulls away to start pumping my chest, I slide my hand along the side of her neck, tilt my head up, and kiss her.

I kiss the hell out of her.

And nothing about it's innocent.

I lose my hands in her hair, I graze my tongue along her mouth, and we connect until she knows just how sorry I am.

Normally, Jersey would've slapped me for pulling some sneaky high-school-level bullshit like this, but she's kissing me back about as desperately as I'm kissing her.

Our mouths make up for the last couple hours within seconds.

I don't know what it is about Hollywood Blvd., but there's magic somewhere in these streets. Something about this place brings out the best and worst in us, and always manages to draw a crowd.

People are cheering. Just losing their minds clapping and whistling like they did before.

I haven't been to many reunions but I'm pretty sure this is the best one I've ever had.

Real talk.

I sit up and tease Jersey into kissing me the way she did the first time we came here. I take her bottom lip between my teeth while she buries her fingers knuckle deep into my hair. Before I know it my hands are locked around her waist, and I'm lifting her up off the ground and into the air like she's weightless.

We are weightless.

She smiles against my lips and that smile's enough to lift a year's worth of brokenness out of my blood.

She pulls away from me and stares down into my eyes. The same eyes that have been lonely for her since she left.

That say everything and nothing.

That only belong to her.

And I don't know what she sees in me.

But for the first time in 365 lost and lonely days, I'm finally looking up--

And instead of staring at the Hollywood lights around us, I'm staring at her.

And only her.

'Cause the sky's always been in her eyes, and I'm lost in her stars tonight.

***

(Thank you guys so much for taking the time to read/listen to this update! kaelking12 and I had a blast collaborating on & recording this chapter and certainly hope the feels were worth it! Next update will be next Sunday!

PS: BONUS QUESTION OF THE WEEK - WHICH WAS YOUR FAVORITE ELIAS/JERSEY KISS? THIS CAN BE IN FHKH OR CFTM! COMMENT WITH YOUR ANSWER! WE'RE CURIOUS ;)