Page 86 of Beyond the Fame

“You can be there for him—”

“I’m always there for him, but he refuses my help every time. I can’t keep loving him while he continues to break my heart. Fuck! He drove a car while drunk this time. He could have killed someone. He could have killed himself.”

That did it. Those words broke me. That flashback to him being carried out on a stretcher the night he tried to take his life has me crumbling to the ground on my hands and knees, crying like a big fucking baby.

Rebecca rushes over to me, but I cower away from her.

“Don’t touch me. Please. I... I can’t do this right now.”

“Do what?”

“Let you care about me.”

“Jensen, you’re–”

“Please, just leave me alone.”

It’s quiet for so long that I wonder if she actually left.

“You know,” she begins, her voice quiet and calculating, “one of these days, you’re going to push every last person in your life away and they won’t come back. Everyone deserves compassion. Even inconsiderate assholes like you.”

This time, she leaves and I’m alone once again.

I take a red-eye back to L.A. and go straight to bed when arriving at my Silver Lake condo. I wake up a few hours later at 9 a.m. to do damage control.

Shyon and the head of the production company called a meeting to discuss the situation with Mylan. The crash stayed out of the media after Lana and the driver chose not to press charges. They didn’t even call the police. Mylan wrote a check to the driver, triple what his car was worth. He also paid for Lana’s sign to get repaired.

I barge in, demanding Mylan be fired. Mylan sits at the table next to his manager, saying nothing. He doesn’t even react. Guilt gnaws at my stomach. I convinced myself I wanted him fired but really, I'm just hurt and grieving our friendship once again.

“Calm the fuck down, Boliver,” Shyon says and sighs. “It’ll be too expensive to fire him and reshoot the role.”

I knew this would be the case. They hired him right out of rehab. Did I really think they’d fire him with two weeks left?

Shyon is taking control of this meeting. The head of the production company is sitting next to her with his fingers woven together. His face reveals nothing. He’s an older man with graying hair and wrinkles all over his face, just like his hands.

Shyon turns her svelte body to face Mylan. “Let it be known, Mister Andrews, if this would have happened a week or even a month into filming, you would have been fired.”

Her head moves slightly to Tony. The man is in his sixties and balding. He looks like he could be on the Sopranos with his designer suit and ring-covered hands.

“Well, Tony? You’re the one who put your career on the line and made promises that clearly couldn’t be kept. Will we be delaying production for a year while your client gets help?”

Shyon never calls anyone by their first name. The two definitely know each other. It makes sense since Tony was the one to call in favors and land Mylan this role.

“Mylan will film the final two weeks, then he’ll check in for treatment.”

Shyon crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. She’s just as suspicious as I am.

“He'll be sober,” Tony adds.

Haven’t we heard that before?

It’s been a week since that meeting. Today is the first day of filming on the sound stage. Mylan shows up sober, as promised, and with a smile. A smile I've seen too many times from my best friend. He's putting on his best show. Behind the calm mask he’s wearing, he’s actually terrified.

He could be worried about many things: Lana not taking him back after being separated for a year, him not being able to last the year in treatment, me not forgiving him this time.

Because I'd been trying to mend our friendship these past couple of months.

“Jensen,” Mylan says, approaching me.

---