Chapter 711: So empty and scary

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 mechanic 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 mechanic’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 name Z.

His thumb hovered over the caller button, hesitating as he remembered 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!!!"

Cameras kept flashing in Slater’s direction, with people asking him to look at them. Some 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 cameras, and all the other noises disappeared in an instant the moment the van shut closed.

"Goodness..." Seated inside, James let out a deep exhale. He smiled as he cast Slater a proud look. "Slater, your popularity is skyrocketing. It’s amazing."

Slater cast James a look and smirked. "Do I get a raise now?"

"I’m working on adjusting your talent fee," James chuckled. "Our phones are ringing nonstop; people want you to do some cover magazines and some cameos..."

James 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 time for that."

Slater didn’t answer as he peeled his eyes from James while the latter cleared his throat. "I want to rest."

"But you still have—" James stopped, staring at Slater’s side profile. "Fine. I’ll just tell them you can’t make it."

James 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," James pointed out. "You can tell me if something is bothering you."

Slater kept his lips tightly sealed, casting James 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, James, I sent you something to your home."

"Huh?"

"It’s a little gift." Slater smiled. "I also sent everyone a gift, as thanks for being there for me."

"Oh... Alright then. Thanks!" James nodded in understanding, believing that Slater was just tired. After all, Slater had been working hard for this album. Thus, James 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 James 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 achievements 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 mental 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 consumed 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 some 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 immediately caught Hugo’s name 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 name, he tried ringing him. However, he was redirected to voicemail. "Is he sleeping? Already?"

Out of curiosity, Slater sent Allen a message 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 me 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.