Page 8 of Fresh Start
“Excuse me, Mr. Douche. I’m not your PA. I’m your agent. A-gent. If you want someone to sugar coat shit, hire a professional sugar-coater. I ain’t one,” he said, and we both knew that was a lie.
Milo had been by my side since before the band broke up and had stuck with me through my tumultuous years as an addict. If there was a professional sugar-coater, Milo was definitely it.
“Anyway,” he said as I took a sip of my drink. “Where are you? What are you doing? What are you wearing?”
The coffee went down the wrong pipe, and I coughed it all back out.
“For fuck’s sake, Milo. Don’t do that to me,” I complained.
“What? What did I do?” he asked.
“Made me choke,” I said.
“Oh, darling. It’s not my fault you have a terrible gag reflex. And I can’t help it. I’m a funny girl. Sue me. You didn’t answer my questions, though,” he said.
“I just got home and was about to start cooking us roast dinner,” I answered. “Why?”
“No reason. It’s fine. I’ll see you later then,” he said and hung up before I could ask him what he was planning. Because if I knew one thing about Milo, it was that he was always planning something.
I got to my kitchen and turned the oven on while trying to forget the stupid paper and resist the urge to go online and read what people thought of my newest project.
After I’d peeled the potatoes and vegetables and put everything in the oven on low heat to slowly roast, I changed into my workout outfit and crossed the street to the yoga center that was my daily addiction nowadays.
Beth was doing her stretches along with the rest of the girls that were in attendance, and I took my spot in the front as usual.
“Better late than never, I guess.” Beth chuckled when I rolled my yoga mat out and started stretching.
“Ihavea life,” I replied.
She stuck her tongue out and then stood up straight, clapping her hands together. The class turned their attention to her, and she walked us through all the poses, mantras, and meditation for the day.
I waited for her walk through even though I knew everything by heart, and with each inhalation, I took in all the positivity and calm I wanted to possess, and with every exhalation, I imagined the frustration, upset, and negativity come out of me and dissolve into nothing.
It didn’t always work. Some days the world’s words and criticism etched too close to my heart to be able to let it all go with some simple breathing techniques, and other days my cravings for the strong stuff drove me nuts.
But despite everything, I’d kept clean. Three years, seven months, and twenty-three days. And counting.
Today, it proved easy to let go of the negativity. And I was grateful to whichever deity made that possible for me. It made me feel positive that someone was somewhat looking after me up there.
When the class finished and everyone had namasted their way out of the building, Beth approached me and punched my shoulder playfully.
“So, what’s new with you? You were completely tranced out earlier,” she said.
“I just needed to forget,” I told her, and it sounded worse than it had in my head.
“Oh, who is it this time? Grinder hookup, or anyone more substantial?” she laughed, but her gaze remained pinned on me.
I shook my head and rolled my yoga mat.
“Nothing like that,” I said and told her about the review.
She immediately came in for a hug, which was a huge thing for her. Beth wasn’t a hugger. Most days, she wasn’t even a people person. But doing yoga together for the better part of a decade had brought those walls down.
“Oh, mate. I’m sorry. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You were brilliant. And that voice! I’d love to see them hitting those notes,” she said.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. This helped,” I said and pointed at the room around us. “It always helps. Well, mostly.”
“Okay, so if you’ll allow me to play devil’s advocate. If push comes to shove and the show doesn’t extend its initial run, what’s next?”
