Putting on his sunglasses, Slater drove back to the city at a much slower speed than usual. He winced, touching his side as it ached a bit. What the chanic told him was true. Even with a safety harness and the body gear he had been wearing earlier, the impact still took a toll on his body.
"That old fart," he muttered, breathing out with slight difficulty. But he was overall fine, so Slater shrugged off the thought. "Whatever."
[Hey, the boss is looking for you. You should give him a call.]
Slater leaned back, driving slower as he thought about the chanic’s parting remarks. Another shallow breath escaped him as he pulled over to the side of the road. Holding the steering wheel with both hands, he slowly moved forward to rest his forehead on it.
"Hah..." he breathed out, glancing at the dashboard and running his tongue across his inner cheek. Taking out his phone, he scrolled to the end of his contacts and stopped when his eyes landed on the contact na Z.
His thumb hovered over the caller button, hesitating as he rembered how he got tangled up in all of this.
It all happened five years ago...
******
Five years ago...
"Slater, look here!"
"Here, Slater!"
"Slater, we love you!!!"
Caras kept flashing in Slater’s direction, with people asking him to look at them. So fans were even screaming just to get his attention. Slater maintained a smile, but his steps to the van were steady. All the cheers, the flashes of the caras, and all the other noises disappeared in an instant the mont the van shut closed.
"Goodness..." Seated inside, Jas let out a deep exhale. He smiled as he cast Slater a proud look. "Slater, your popularity is skyrocketing. It’s amazing."
Slater cast Jas a look and smirked. "Do I get a raise now?"
"I’m working on adjusting your talent fee," Jas chuckled. "Our phones are ringing nonstop; people want you to do so cover magazines and so caos..."
Jas trailed off, pressing his lips together because Slater cast him a blank look. "Right. You’re an artist, not just a celebrity. Of course, you don’t have ti for that."
Slater didn’t answer as he peeled his eyes from Jas while the latter cleared his throat. "I want to rest."
"But you still have—" Jas stopped, staring at Slater’s side profile. "Fine. I’ll just tell them you can’t make it."
Jas raised his brows, studying Slater’s unchanging side profile. "Slater, is everything okay?"
"Mhm."
"Are you sure? You’ve been acting differently since you started working on your album," Jas pointed out. "You can tell if sothing is bothering you."
Slater kept his lips tightly sealed, casting Jas a look. Seeing the latter’s curiosity, he smiled. "I’m fine. I’m just... tired. That’s all."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I am sure. By the way, Jas, I sent you sothing to your ho."
"Huh?"
"It’s a little gift." Slater smiled. "I also sent everyone a gift, as thanks for being there for ."
"Oh... Alright then. Thanks!" Jas nodded in understanding, believing that Slater was just tired. After all, Slater had been working hard for this album. Thus, Jas was not surprised that the album broke records and quickly hit the charts.
It was all the fruit of Slater’s hard work.
Little did Jas know, it wasn’t just exhaustion that made Slater act differently than usual. It was a lie. Slater wasn’t just exhausted; he was also struggling.
Despite Slater’s successful career and skyrocketing popularity, despite the achievents he was accumulating as if they were simply fruits falling from a tree, and despite the growing admiration people had for him, Slater was not fine.
His ntal health was failing... and no one knew about it.
*
*
*
Slater had no idea when and how it started. He was fine initially. He entered the music industry with a heart so pure and an intention to share his music with everyone. Little did he know that the longer he stayed in the industry, the more it consud him. And before he knew it, he felt like he was simply drifting.
Was it the work? Or was it the remnants of the constant bullying he experienced as a child that made him a little fearful of people? Was it the impossible standards that people expected from him? Or the fact that he could be anyone else in front of everyone but himself?
All these questions and uncertainties, all these fears and anxieties weren’t a good combination; they were taking a toll on him.
Sitting on the rim of the tub after a long day, Slater stared at the water in it.
"I miss her," he whispered, glancing at the wine in the sink. Another deep exhale slipped past Slater as he stared at the one thing that was keeping him asleep at night.
Getting up, he picked up the bottle of wine and went straight to the tub. He didn’t even undress, simply dipping his body in the tub to perhaps calm the anxiety crawling under his skin and clasping his heart. Slater chugged down a few gulps, hissing as he leaned back.
"What am I going to do?" he whispered, staring at the ceiling as the back of his head rested on the tub’s rim. "I should’ve gone to the after-party."
Again, Slater chugged a few mouthfuls of wine, thinking that it was better to party all night than be alone. But then again, a part of him knew it wouldn’t make a difference. His entire body felt down, and it took a lot of energy to get up in the morning and do so work.
Even smiling in front of everyone was tiring.
Slater chugged down another mouthful, glancing at the bottle of wine bitterly. He drank again, and then another one, then another one. If not for the bottle emptying, he wouldn’t stop.
"Hah..." he huffed, his eyes growing heavy and weary. He held the empty bottle over the rim, its bottom touching the floor. "It’s so quiet..."
It was so empty... it was quite scary.
Slater glanced at the phone nearby, reaching out to see whom to call at this hour. He imdiately caught Hugo’s na in his contacts, but Slater only smiled bitterly.
"How can I call him when he’s at the base?" he muttered, checking his other contacts. When he caught Atlas’s na, he tried ringing him. However, he was redirected to voicemail. "Is he sleeping? Already?"
Out of curiosity, Slater sent Allen a ssage in case he was still with Atlas and that Atlas was just busy. He didn’t believe that Atlas was already sleeping at this hour. After a minute, he saw Allen’s incoming call.
"Oh?" Slater’s brows rose. "He was out of the country visiting Penny?"
"Yes, third young master. It’s a quick trip, and he’d be back tomorrow."
Slater went quiet before he smiled. "Is that so?" he muttered, not listening to Allen’s remarks as he ended the call.
"He should’ve told he would visit her. He knows I miss her too," he whispered, tossing the phone mildly, keeping his gaze on the ceiling.
A shallow laugh escaped him as he slowly closed his eyes, sinking further until his head slipped beneath the water.
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