broken halos

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His words from last night echo in my head "I loved you. Thats the difference between you and every girl before and after you" It stirs something in me. Making me think maybe he did love me as much as I loved him. Set aside that he loved basketball more than me, the person wise, the girl wise... maybe I am his person. Just like he has been mine since the beginning. A distant memory reappears of a young Hero standing in Brandon and Chloes apartment in London asking me to come along to shoot hoops with his friends at a nearby court. And then his friend request and then the first long distance DMs, later messages. I smile at our puppy love start. 

I call in sick, for the first time, but I need a moment to process everything and grieve and feel sorry for myself. And its Friday. I need an extra weekend day. 

Another memory, or incident, surfaces from the back of my mind. It was a month-two after coming back from Cleveland. 

I was walking the streets of Nyc on my way to class when I got ambushed by the press. At this point as Heros stats on the court blew up and impressed so did the press' interest in him and his private life. I had almost become custom to the press snapping their cameras and writing shit about me a lot more than before. I tried to stay clear of it and mind my own business and life as much as possible. But this morning they crossed the line. I hadn't been aware of the gossip until they want me to comment right there on the streets while I am walking to my morning class. 

I call him up when I get to school and find a secluded spot, 

H: Hey you – he answers happy

J: Who is Amber?

H: What?

J: You heard me

H: I don't know

J: Hero

He breathes out heavy: "It's nothing"

J: Fuck!

H: Wait Joss, I swear it's nothing

J: It's not nothing Hero when the two of you are plastered all over the internet. When I am ambushed in the streets of New York to comment on it. That's not nothing.

H: Fuuck!

J: I can't believe you! – and I hang up

"Fuuuuck" - he shouts as the line goes dead and throws his phone into the wall. It comes crashing down in pieces. "Fuck" - he says again.

I can't believe this. I hate them. I officially hate them. I don't hate people, but I hate the press people. Omg I hate them. They are fucking ruining my life. As if it's not hard enough being in a long distance relationship. They are always there to add salt upon salt upon salt upon fucking salt on the open wounds.

This is unbelievable. Who the fuck is Amber?

I try dialing Joss over and over, until she turns her phone off completely. I send a texts, they are all left unread.

Fuuuck. This is terrible. I have to talk to her. But she wount talk to me. I can go down to Nyc. But I have to ask the coach, what will I even tell him? Shit! What if she doesn't want to see me. I can try Ed. Or Nate. Or Aiden. No I can't call him... it's too much... but I will if I have to. Worst case scenario I will. Fuck!! How did I get tangled up in this shit?! I don't even know what is happening. Okay I have a little sense of what is going on but, still not completely.

She is not making it any easier though and with her phone turned off. I feel so detached from her. Argh I still hate the press.

I call coach and tell him about the situation. He is not happy that my private life is the center of my attention and that it's messy. He gives me advice about the kind of person I want to be, what do I want people to say and remember about me. That not everyone is essential to your life, especially the life we lead and that you have to be picky who you let in. But those you do you gotta hold on to with everything. But the noise... that I have to cut straight out of my life if I want to be remembered as a basketball player and not just a pretty face with a name tag on. I hear him. And I promise him and myself that I will focus more when I get back, but first I have to fix this. He grants me a leave until tomorrow 10 AM practice.

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