To Catch a Falling Star Read Online Free PDF Page A

for a snort, but I could die from an overdose. Does it make any sense? Either way I am doomed. It’s like jumping from the Titanic when it hit the iceberg.
    I dump the rest of the water in the sink. Waves of pain ripple inside my skull. Even my brain hurts. I open the faucet and splash cold water on my face.
    Images of the last night I spent with Monique twist in my mind. I only remember flashes, as if a sliding disc rotates repeatedly on my mind’s eyes. We didn’t talk or laugh, we just sat on the luscious, carpeted floor and injected speedballs, snorted, and tried to chase our individual demons away. I had “Sweet Death Agony” on repeat. Each one of us retreated into our own zone, competing about who could snort more lines or get to the end of the line first. She won.
    I think of when we met more than three years ago. I was in Milan for a concert and she was there to do a spread for Vogue . During my concert’s after-party, she pulled me to a rough wall and pretty much violated me. It rates on the top of the chart as the best sex I’ve ever had. We never loved each other. But, boy, did we have carnal chemistry. Fuck, she could suck my dick like no one. She could also snort a line of cocaine like no one.
    Guilt and regret sweeps over me. I fear I’ll drown in it.
    My entire body shudders and my heart rate skyrockets. My skin tingles. I try to breathe, but it is as if a pillow is shoved against my face. I scramble toward the king-sized bed in the middle of the barn. I tug the covers and crawl in. I huddle, wrapping the covers around my shaking body. I inhale deeply, willing the tremors to go away.
    My body feels cold and I wonder if I have a temperature. I close my eyes and, firmly, I press the palm of my hand against my diaphragm. I remember my former therapist saying through her nasal voice, “Smell the roses and blow the candles.” Slowly, my heart rate decreases and the tremors subside. I hate these anxiety attacks. They make me feel like a pussy.
    I continue to take long deep breathes and my mind drifts to the session with Mel.
    Wings. Mel’s eyes were sad when she handed me the coin. At the time I was too absorbed by the lust of staring at her damn beautiful face. But, in hindsight, she was sad, but not for me. Her eyes were broken. How did I not notice? Her words, “We all have chips on our shoulders.” I fish for the golden coin. My thumb slides across the wings. I’ve just had too much of this pain. Does she know I want an end? Is that why she said this is a lifeline token?
    I hold the coin and scrape my chest with it. Oh, it feels good, another cheesy benefit to the piece of shit, a scratcher.
    The buzz of my cell startles me. Jumpy rock star. I am getting lamer by the minute. I rummage my pocket for my cell. The screen displays a picture of Nillie blowing me a kiss.
    “Hello, Nillie. What’s up?”
    “Hey, favorite rock star, how did it go?”
    “It, uh, you know, it went all right.” I wince, relieved she can’t see me.
    “When are you going back?”
    “Tuesday.”
    “Good. I know this is hard for you, Tarry. But you just need to hang in there.”
    “No shit, this is fucking hard, Nillie.”
    “How do you like your new therapist?”
    “Mel? She’s all right. But I want to wait for the pastor to come back. I don’t know, but it is weird talking to her.”
    “Oh, God, no, you can’t afford to wait, Tarry.” She pauses. “Did you tell Portia?”
    “Hell no, she would deliver that baby of hers prematurely. I don’t want any additional guilt over my head.”
    “Yeah, she would freak out.”
    “How is everything with you? How is Mr. CEO?” I change the conversation.
    “Not you too, Tarry,” she complains.
    “How is my little guy?” I smile at the thought of her son, Noah.
    “He asked about you the other day. We were at the grocery store and he saw a picture of you on a tabloid cover.”
    “Tell him I said hello. I miss him. Are you still coming to visit?”
    “Yeah, I’ll do