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Mr. Hollywood

Lacey Weatherford


  I felt weak, washed up, and like I’d given away all my power to something that would never really help me, and it definitely would never care for me. Was this what I’d done to myself? Had I really turned my back on everything good in my life, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with pain? When had I lost it so badly?

  It was time to do something about this. It was time to take a stand and do what I knew was right, even if it meant losing the crutch I’d hung onto for so long.

  Staring at my phone, I pulled up my contacts and dialed a number.

  “Hello?” a sleepy voice answered.

  “Dr. Wilson? It’s Zane. I’m headed back to the facility right now. I’d like to check myself back in again as a full time patient.” Emotion caught in my throat, and I did my best to swallow it. I felt completely broken. “I need help, and I’m ready to tell you everything now.”

  “I’ll be there within the next thirty minutes,” Dr. Wilson replied without hesitation and I could hear him moving around. “I’ll call ahead and let the staff know you’re coming.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, barely able to get the words out.

  “No problem, Zane. I’m glad you called. I’ll see you soon.”

  I didn’t answer, instead hanging up the phone. It was all I could do to not let the tears and grief come out. I felt like I needed to vomit and purge this darkness out of me, but the cab driver was already giving me looks.

  Thankfully, it didn’t take long to get to the facility. I paid the driver and tipped him, trying to keep it together as I headed toward the front door. It was after hours, but the night security guard smiled when he saw me and immediately moved to check me in.

  “Evening, Mr. Carpenter,” he said, using the alias I’d been checked in under previously. “Nice to see you again. Dr. Wilson asked me to check you in and see that you get settled in his office. He’ll be here shortly.”

  “Okay, thanks, Rodney.” I was glad he was wearing a name tag. I sucked at remembering people’s names. Penelope kept track of them all for me.

  That was bad, too. When had I given my power over to other people? When had I quit being in charge of my life and instead just let it happen to me? It was an eye opening revelation. I’d been catered to and pampered by everyone for so long, I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to take care of myself. My life consisted of being shuttled from one acting gig to the next and partying all the time, with a few award shows and press junkets mixed in. When had I quit being me, the kid who could run a farm completely by himself, and turned into a lazy jerk who drank himself into oblivion at the end of every day, sleeping it off for hours?

  What kind of life was this? This wasn’t fun or exciting. This wasn’t being a big shot celebrity. This was being an addict. I was completely out of control and couldn’t even see it—not until right now, in this moment—and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  I was done with letting life rule me. It was time to start ruling it. And regardless of whether or not it was good to be in a relationship with Aubrey right now, I wanted her. I’d wanted her my whole life. Every woman I’d ever slept with, I’d imagined was her at some point or another. I wondered if anyone had noticed my preference for brunettes? I even specifically requested them when ordering my drugs from my dealer.

  True, there had been some pretty costars of mine that had different hair colors, ones that I’d fucked on set in between takes when we had down time in our trailers. But when searching out a possible date, I always tried to match them to Aubrey’s looks. Subconsciously, I’d known why I was doing it. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to figure that out. I was constantly trying to recreate the feeling I’d experienced when Aubrey had finally given herself to me.

  I was so stupid. There was no recreating it with anyone else. It was so amazing because I was in love with her. Being with her again had proved that to me. All the searching I’d done, all the longing I had, was completed and satisfied once I was back in her arms.

  She was my true addiction. She always had been. Even the fact that I was so upset over the incident with Andy was proof. I felt like that act was the final straw—the one that took away all my chances of ever making things right with her if I ever had the courage to find her and face her again.

  And now I had. I’d had Heaven in my arms for a brief moment and lost it again. I honestly didn’t know if she’d come back. Now I didn’t know if I’d ever get to see my son again, and the pain was excruciating, impossible to bear. I couldn’t fault her for keeping him away from me. I would’ve done the same if our situations were reversed.

  I was fucked up. Fucked up in a bad way, and it was all my fault. I was the only one to blame for everything. If I’d been in control of me, none of these other bad things would’ve happened. I was the one who’d put myself in all these awful places. It was me who’d sabotaged my own happiness. All because I couldn’t man up and talk to anyone about the things that bothered or scared me. Instead I simply repressed everything until I was like that volcano Dustin had shown me—ready to explode.

  My world was crashing down around me, falling apart at the seams and I couldn’t seem to hold it together anymore. I don’t know why I’d been so blind to it before, but now it was painfully obvious what needed to be done. Even that revelation hurt me.

  It was time to let go and release it all. It was time to forget about everyone else—everything else—and find me again. I couldn’t do this to save my job, or placate some studio executives. This wasn’t for Aubrey or Dustin, and definitely not to please the Harts and get them to accept me.

  No, it was time to fix me for me, because I needed to be able to rely on myself. I needed to find my center again and regain control. I wanted to enjoy life again because I loved myself, and wanted to find a way to be happy again, no matter where I was or whom I was with. I wanted to be the boy I used to be—the one full of hope and excited for his future. Looking in the mirror at the monster I’d become was exhausting. Fear had led me exactly where I didn’t want to go. My obsession to ignore my problems had turned me into something I could no longer live with. It was time to break free. No more holding back.

  I was weeping like a fool by the time Dr. Wilson joined me in his office. Immediately, he sat down beside me, and placed his hand on my shoulder. “First things first, son. Did you use?”

  I shook my head, not looking up at him. “No. But I want to more than ever. I’m an addict. I know that now.”

  Dr. Wilson squeezed my shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Zane. You just made the first crucial step in recovery, admitting that you have a problem. The good news is now that we have that out of the way, we can roll up our sleeves and get started on your healing in earnest.”

  “I’d like that,” I replied, still trying to get control of myself, but now that the floodgates had opened, I was having a hard time containing my grief back inside them. I was a complete mess.

  “Can you tell me what triggered this tonight?”

  I gave a wry laugh. “Yeah. I finally confessed the grotesque truth about my past to Aubrey. She wanted to know everything and I couldn’t lie to her. Telling her made me realize how bad things really are and how much I want to change and be in control of my life again. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  He patted me briefly on the shoulder and moved to the leather chair beside the couch and picked up his notepad sitting there. “Can you tell me what you told Aubrey? I know it’s difficult, but please know that nothing you say will change my opinion of you. We all have things in our lives we aren’t proud of. I’m here to help you work out these knots and find a way to move past this.”

  “I almost killed a man,” I blurted out, the words boiling up out of me as if they needed to be purged from my soul.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  Not even pausing, my confession spilled out of me all over again, describing every single vile moment I could remember in vivid detail. After it was all out, I continued even further, telling him of the repeated nightmares I’d been h
aving for years, where I was involved in a sexual relationship with this man, Andy. I didn’t know if the dreams were suppressed memories of that night, or if they were caused by my guilt from beating him, or even if it was my subconscious telling me I was attracted to him.

  Sometimes the dreams ended badly, either with me succeeding in killing Andy, or watching as he suddenly pulled out a gun and shot himself in front of me. No matter what happened in the dream though, I woke the same every single time, gasping for air and feeling an incredible amount of terror accompanied by the need to run as far and as fast as my legs could carry me.

  Often times I did go running after the nightmares, all the while contemplating if I was brave enough to just slit my own throat. I was that desperate to stop the pain. Yet in the same breath I didn’t understand why I felt so angry and violated. It was just a dream, wasn’t it? Yes, it was based on reality, but no one had actually died.

  Dr. Wilson listened to me as I rolled along, almost without pausing to take a breath. It was as if I was cleansing my soul, eradicating every terrible thing I could think of. After I finished, I slumped in a heap against the couch, feeling completely drained as the doctor stared at the massive amount of notes he’d made, lightly tapping his pencil eraser against the paper.

  “Have you ever done hypnosis before?” he finally asked, glancing up at me.

  “No. Why?” I was surprised by his question.

  “I think I’d like to try some with you. With the dreams and the night terrors you describe, I want to see if your subconscious is holding some of the answers for you. This altercation with Andy happened years ago, yet it still affects you so deeply. While I can understand your guilt, I feel there may be more than meets the eye. How would you feel about trying something like this to see if we can uncover anything else that might help you?”

  I shrugged, dragging a shaky hand through my hair. “At this point, I’m game to try anything you want. I just need to find some relief from the voices in my head. They’re killing me, Doc. One piece at a time.”

  “I promise I will do all in my power to help you through this.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Drawing in a steadying breath, I blew it out slowly, attempting to relax, my head pounding. “So do you want to try hypnosis right now?”

  Shaking his head, he laid his notepad and pencil on the table beside his chair. “No. I think you’ve had enough trauma for one night. You should try to get some sleep for now, if you can. If you think you might need something to help you rest, I can prescribe a sleep aid, too. But I don’t want to give you anything if you feel that might set you back.”

  “I’ll go without. Thanks, though.” Glancing at the clock, I was surprised to find that two hours had slipped away since Dr. Wilson had arrived. I hadn’t realized how bottled up things had been inside me. It was as if confessing things to Aubrey had done a whole lot more than let off a little steam. It had caused the pressure cooker inside me to explode.

  “Good.” Dr. Wilson seemed pleased by my refusal to accept any medications. “I’ll come back in tomorrow and we can try the hypnosis in the afternoon. That way you can participate in the morning group, prior.”

  “Isn’t Sunday your day off?” I asked, already feeling guilty for having called him in here twice today. “I can wait until Monday.”

  “I don’t want to do that to you. I think we should get it over with soon, so you can start your recovery in the best place possible. There’s no point in dragging this pain and torment inside you out any longer than necessary. Let’s get it dealt with so you can move on and begin healing.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.” His generosity overwhelmed me.

  “I know things seem dark and difficult for you right now and that you’re experiencing a lot of confusion. But I promise you I’ll do my absolute best to help you get to a place where you can adequately deal with things. The goal is to get to a spot where you can move forward with peace and confidence, while feeling like you’re in complete control.”

  “Control.” I chuckled wryly. “I like the sound of that.” I hadn’t had control in ages. Even though I loved acting, I’d become a puppet in the hands of other people. They pulled the strings and I danced however they wanted me to. I was tired of it.

  “So do I.” Dr. Wilson smiled and stood, moving through an adjacent door before quickly reappearing with two bottles of water. He extended one to me and I took it, thanking him.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with before we go?” he added.

  “Actually, there is. I made the decision to check back in tonight on a spur of the moment fluke. No one knows I’m here and I was too upset to talk to anyone when I came in. I’ve already surrendered my phone. Would it be possible for you to let Aubrey and Penelope know I came back? My suitcase is still packed and sitting on my bed at the penthouse. Aubrey and I stopped by there so I could drop off my things and get some video games for my son before I went to meet him.”

  “I can do that for you, no problem. How’d meeting your son go, by the way?”

  Smiling widely, my heart filled with a sweet, beautiful feeling just thinking about him. “It was incredible. He’s incredible. I’ve never felt such pride—or love, I guess—over anything I’ve ever done. I know Aubrey deserves all the credit for how she raised him, but I can’t get over how a part of me helped to create Dustin. He’s perfect. He’s my son, and he’s still perfect.” I looked up. “I can’t believe how quickly I bonded with him. Help me fix this so I can be a good dad to him. I can’t touch his life with all this darkness. I can’t destroy him, too. That would kill me.”

  “You won’t. We won’t allow this darkness to destroy you, either. We want all of you to walk away from this experience better for it.”

  I considered his words for a moment, feeling like that would be a miraculous event, if it could ever actually happen. “I hope that will be the case, Doc. I really do.”

  Something inside me had already changed. For the first time in years, I felt hope.

  “Is Z McCartney Keeping a Big Secret?”

  ~The Inquisitor~

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Z

  After my early group session, I spent the remainder of the morning reading several pamphlets on hypnotherapy, as well as a flyer that shared Dr. Wilson’s credentials and past success with using hypnosis in a psychotherapeutic setting.

  After I was finished reading everything he had delivered to me, I had to sign a bunch of release forms, giving my consent for this particular treatment to occur. My nurse, Chelle, came in to check my vitals when the orderly brought my tray to my room.

  I hated that Aubrey wasn’t involved in my care anymore, but recognized it was for the best. Hopefully Dr. Wilson would be able to tell me how his phone call with her had gone.

  While I was concerned about what she was going through right now, I had no doubt I was in the right place. It was time to start fixing things. Ignoring them clearly wasn’t working. And whether or not she was going to be able to get past my confession, I needed to do what was best for me, at the moment. There could be no future for any of us, if I didn’t repair myself first.

  Glancing at my watch, I realized it was later than I thought and I was going to be late for my session if I didn’t hurry.

  “Any chance you can hold my lunch for me? I have a session with Dr. Wilson in the next five minutes,” I asked Chelle. I’d seen her around campus prior to this, visiting with Aubrey, and I wondered how close they were away from work, but felt it would be rude to ask. I didn’t want to put her in an uncomfortable situation.

  “Sure thing,” she answered with a smile. “Not a problem at all. Just ring for it when you get back to your room and someone will be right over with it.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” My thoughts continued to center around Aubrey, and I wondered how she was doing today. That was the only thing I hated about checking myself back in as an inpatient. I couldn’t speak with her. But she had asked for time, so a
s far as I was concerned, she had at least ten days to come to terms with what I’d confessed. Hopefully by the time my confinement was complete she’d be willing to join me for some sessions with Dr. Wilson—if she still wanted anything to do with me, that is. A pang shot through my heart with that, but I couldn’t dwell on this right now, or it would drive me bat shit crazy. When the time came to address it, then I would. Until then I planned on doing whatever was needed to help get me into a better place.

  As soon as Chelle was finished, I left my room and headed to Dr. Wilson’s office, knocking when I arrived.

  “It’s open,” he replied and I entered, finding him sitting behind his desk. “Hi, Zane. Good to see you again. How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m all right—anxious to get this going.”

  “So am I.” He smiled warmly, but there was concern in his eyes. “I want you to remember every person is different though, and no one person will respond to hypnosis in exactly the same way as another. It works really well for some and not so much for others.”

  “I get it. Don’t hold unrealistic expectations, right?”

  He nodded. “Why don’t you have a seat and we can discuss it some more. Feel free to lie or sit, whatever you find most comfortable.”

  I did as he asked, sitting at one end of the couch, wiping my sweaty palms restlessly against my jeans, and waited for him to join me, in his traditional seat.

  “Do you have any questions you’d like to ask me?” he asked once settled.

  “Not really. I read all the material you sent and it sounds good to me. I did notice that this treatment could be used both for emotional issues and aid in the quitting of substance abuse. Is it possible to try both of those things?”

  “Certainly. That can all be worked into this session, dependent on how tolerant you are of it. If we need to do more than one session, we certainly can. It all depends on how you feel about it. You’re the one in control. I’m just the guide for the ride.”