Page 33 of Worlds Collide

“You’ve got that right,” I say in a growl. “If by some miracleBirdie and I ever tour another album we’ll rent an AirBnb wherever we go. And I’ll buy a fucking apartment in LA if I need to.”

“Hey everyone,I’m Wolf and I’m an alcoholic.” I begin this nonsense, and resist rolling my eyes while I wait for the response. My sponsor has told me it doesn’t help my case when I do that.

“Hello, Wolf,” the seven other attendants of today’s meeting answer back.

“I got sold off to the tabloids today. By someone I actually trusted. At least I trusted him to never dothat.” As far as starts go it’s not too bad, I think. “Last time that happened it was my father’s old business partner wanting to get my mom thrown in jail for life and I was only seven, so you can imagine why it hits a little different this time.” Only silence greets me. I drop my shoulders.Man, this is a tough crowd. “You know, because I actually understand what’s happening this time...”

Linda, my sponsor, smiles awkwardly at me then nods for me to go on.

“Anyway, I don’t really know what to do now, but I do know,” I say faking triumph. “That I’m not supposed to drink. And I haven’t. Thank you.”

I somehow feel even shittier after my testimony, especially because the man that goes after me talks about how hard he’s been working on repairing his relationship with his estranged daughter who stopped talking to him when he wouldn’t get help.

Everyone at the rehab center in Carmel-by-the-Sea told me how the only proven way to stay sober is to go to meetings regularly and talk to my sponsor, but honestly, with the way my life differs so wildly from normal people’s, it only makes me feel shittier.

Every time I leave a meeting I tell this to Linda, who was a TV star about thirty years ago and understands where I’m coming from. All she’s ever said to me is that it gets easier.

I don’t know how that’s possible.

“God, grant me serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference,” the whole group chants while standing in a circle and holding hands like we’re kindergartners or something.

I understand the logic of the phrase, it’s simple enough, but I don’t think I can control anythingbutmy drinking—or not drinking.

“Pancakes?” Linda asks me and I about pass out from relief.

“Yes, please.” I haven’t had anything to eat since last night’s delicious tacos—and fuck CJ for not having the decency to bring me shitty food so I won’t think about him every time I eat tacos.

Yeah, like that’s the only time I’m gonna think about him.

It’s such bullshit. The way he’s gotten into my head since he moved to LA is so unfair. I don’t need this—no, correction, I don’tdeservethis. After the hell I’ve been through, this kind of humiliation is really cruel.

I’ve learned enough lessons from the universe, and I thought one of those was that I could really trust the people closest to me. Silly, stupid Wolf thought that included the people who Derek trusts too.

I only want peace and to be left the fuck alone. Is that too much to ask?

Linda climbs into the back of the SUV before me and greets Rich like they’re old friends. I like that, just to be clear.

“The diner?” Rich asks while he shifts the car into drive.

“Yeah,” I confirm.

The tiny diner that’s as secluded as you can get in Malibu is ah-mazing. I not only weep for the pancakes, but the staff treat me like any other human too. It’s also been open for about fifty years and I don’t think it has been renovated ever, so it’s never too crowded at this time of the day.

“So,” Linda says after we confirm our order to Gretchen and she leaves us to it. “You really think this guy CJ called the paps?” Her face is doing that neutral thing I hate—I can never tell what she’s thinking—but I do appreciate that she went right to the heart of it.

“He’s the only person who knew where I was—besides my brother, Rich, and my brother-in-law, of course.”

“And?” Again with the passive, non-emotional tone.

“What do you mean, and? He obviously set this up.”

“Oh, were you on a floor with no other rooms?” I open my mouth to answer but she rolls right through. “Did you buy out all the rooms? No wait, I know what happened. You had five new bodyguards, all posted at every entrance to the floor and asking for the IDs of any person who wanted to make use of that hallway, right?”

I growl at her, and this time I show teeth.

She only smiles brightly at me.

“You know damn well if jumping to conclusions was a sport every alcoholic in the world would win gold medals.”

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