Chapter One: A Day In New York

The posters were placed. The flyers sent out. Commercials were aired. Billboards were put up. The information was out. The date was set. The place was arranged. Now all she had to do was wait. Waiting, it was the hard part. Everything was all set up for that weekend, yet it still didn't feel right. She kept rearranging things, when she knew good and well they were best where they were. She also knew good and well her agent moved things back after she was done. Why she bothered? She didn't quite know, nerves probably. She was nervous about her art show. What if people didn't like the new stuff, her new collection. She'd been doing it for years. Books about her and her work, life movies, and more. She was famous in the art world, actress/artist. This was her first art show after her latest movie. It was Friday, the people would come Saturday night. Browse, and then the pieces would be auctioned to the highest bidder, some of the proceeds donated to charity. She had the dream life, well on the outside. Acting and her art is what therapy told her to do.

Therapy. The word that frightened most, yet welcomed her. She had done coke, just to try it. Who hasn't tried a line of coke, or a drag on a cigarette, a puff on a joint, a shot of whisky, everyone's curious. Some can handle it and say no, but others, well they're not so lucky. They become rapidly addicted, craving more. They feel they must feed the addiction, but it only grows hungrier. That is how she was, she told her friends she stopped, and she thought she had, yet she kept coming back for it. Therapy was her last hope once the man of her dreams found out what she was doing behind her back. True he was angry, but he was also concerned.

Now in her mid twenties, after going to night school and taking classes when she had time, she was doing better, from daily therapy to now once a month. Her addiction to her drug of choice was slowly erased from mind and thought. Whenever she felt that urge, that historic addiction coming up, she would be ready to beat it down with art. Take all her fury out in it, paint it away, draw it away, anything.

School was done, therapy almost over, her career at its peak, she still felt him missing, her perfect man. He helped her, but ultimately he needed to help himself, it wasn't easy. He had to care for his baby, protect her from all harm, harm being her mother. He was afraid. His baby's mother, a cokeaholic as was becoming she. He didn't want to go down that road again. He couldn't. At the end was tears and heartbreak. He felt to just end it, keep in touch and wish her the best. However, the best for her was him.

She couldn't dare stay in that room one more minute, her agent yelling at her for moving things, she had to get out, breathe. So in the middle of her agent's rampage she walked out. She had always been the moody type, not taking crap from nobody. That wasn't a shocker that she just walked out, the agent was used to dealing with this, like a small child. It was hard, but that's what she went to school for. She had known her client from school, they had become great friends, and then, who really knows, one succeeded, while the other was given a favor to keep her in a job, to pay the bills and put food on the table and clothes on her back. It was good, but she could do better, what she wanted.

Peyton walked around New York City. After storming out on her agent, what else could she do. Her show was tomorrow and she was nervous. If it were years ago, she'd be doing a line of coke right now. She walked right into a pole, not watching where she was going. There was a poster on it.

"Haley James, singer extraordinaire,

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday

Mormer Hall, six in the evening

Be there if you dare.

New and Improved

Promoting her new album 'Procrastination is for the Lonely'"

Peyton read the sign, she had to get to the show, Mormer hall was just a few blocks away, she could easily get a ticket being Peyton Sawyer.

That's just what she did. She was going to the show…