Two weeks had passed and Alvin was finally out of hospital. He didn't break anything, but he had huge grazes and cuts across his whole body. He also suffered from a concussion for three days. Now he is packing his suitcase, he needed to escape like he needed air to breathe. He couldn't survive in New York, the environment was too harsh. He was also very thankful that he wasn't in LA, he figured that with the scene over there his drug abuse would've been much worse. To his surprise, no one recommended to him that he should go to rehab, even though they knew full well that he should. Alvin knows that he has a problem, but he doesn't want to stop, he can't.

He chose a few t-shirts, button-ups and jeans. That should get him through. He packed in his underwear and socks. He had shoes on his feet, he was ready to go.

Alvin carried his luggage into the trunk of his car, closed it, and quickly got behind the wheel. This time without the vodka. He drove to the airport, it took him around 20 minutes. When he got there he was greeted with no lines or hassle and he boarded his private jet within minutes of arriving. He was a celebrity after all, at least for now until the tabloids got bored of him.

The private jet was cool and comfortable, with leather seats, champagne and a TV as well. Alvin figured he'd better get this flight over with, and pulled a cigarette out his pocket. It was almost delicate in his hands, white all around with the thin gold stripe to signify the filter. He put the exact thing that killed Dave between his teeth, and struck the match. It sparked up and lit the cigarette, releasing a puff of smoke into the aircraft. Alvin knew that he would be caught with the cigarette quite quickly and they would stop him, but for now he would enjoy it.

He held it between his lips and inhaled the smoke, it billowed out of his mouth and danced until eventually, fading away.

"Mr Seville!" Said the flight attendant, quickly rushing to him, "I'm afraid you can't smoke on this flight."

Alvin nodded, took one last puff and put out his cigarette.

She smiled, "Thank you. Can I get you a drink?"

Alvin looked at the bar tray, it had an assortment of different alcoholic beverages and tools to mix them together.

"Dirty martini thanks."

She nodded and walked over to the bar tray and began to make his drink. She handed it to him and he took a quick sip.

"Mmh," he mumbled.

Around 11 hours later they landed in Honolulu, Hawaii. Alvin had been to Hawaii before, but this time was different. Last time he was there to sing and perform, this time it's simply escapism.

He got off the jet and into a limo, which drove him to the five star resort that he had booked out. Alvin needed complete and utter privacy, so he booked every room in the hotel for the next month so no one else could stay there. He didn't care, he had the money.

"Welcome Mister Seville, shall I show you to your room?" Said one of the workers,

"Which one?" Said Alvin. The two laughed, "No I'm alright, I think I'll manage."

He worked his way up the stairs, suitcase in hand and picked a room. He walked in and the view was beautiful. The balcony led right out onto the beach. Alvin suddenly decided that he was going to swim. He changed into a pair of swimming trunks and quickly ran out toward the ocean.

"Alvin is that you?' He heard a voice say his name and he turned around to see Britney! He was in such shock, his jaw practically fell on the ground.

"Britney? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing Alvin!"

She ran up to Alvin and hugged him softly, and then let go.

"I've seen the tabloids," She sighed, "they're just awful, are you okay?"

He looked down and up again, "Not really, I can't escape it. The paparazzi follow me everywhere, it's like my life isn't even mine anymore. That's why I came here, to Hawaii, to escape."

She nodded, "I left after Dave died, I couldn't cope. But here? None of these people really know that we're famous unless they've been told. It's like a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah," He said, "I understand."