California Gold

Chapter 7 // Homecoming

"Do you see him yet?"

"No, nothing."

"Is she here?"

"We've been camped around her house all week, there hasn't been any movement."

"There's no way the dates are wrong."

"No. This is the week."

Jack looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. Hordes of photographers sat poised, ready, waiting.

"Thought this was supposed to be a secure exit."

"This is a celebrity treatment facility, and you're the number one most searched man in America at the moment. There's no such thing as a secure exit in this situation," Bobby responded lazily. "All we can do is get you in that car as quick as possible."

"Is she here?"

Bobby was silent for a moment. "I don't know. That was up to her and Rez."

A nurse rounded the corner. "Are you ready, Mr. Maine?"

"As I'll ever be," Jack whispered in response. Bobby handed him his hat, and he gladly took it, settling it atop his head. He pulled on a pair of raybans, then stood in front of the door.

"Three, two... one."

The nurse pushed the door open and Jack stepped out, ducking his head as Bobby guided him toward a black Range Rover. Phil stood outside it, holding a door open. Jackson thought the lights were going to blind him as they flashed, and he shielded his eyes.

"Jack! Is it true you and Ally haven't spoken since you entered treatment?"

"Over here, Jackson! Are you excited for the tour?"

"Jackson! Jackson! What's your biggest concern for the upcoming tour- is relapse a possibility?"

Jack's nose wrinkled in disgust at the opportunistic nature of the photogs. He thought his head would explode from the noise and lights, but in an instant, the whole world slowed to a stop.

There was movement in the car. Phil nodded to the figure inside, and she slid out, poised and elegant. Her hair was longer, back to its natural brown, and every inch of her was perfection.

"Ally," Jack breathed, and he swore he felt his soul leave his body. He felt frozen in place as he watched her make her way to him. She seemed weightless as she moved, gliding along as if she were an angel.

"Hi, Jack," her voice was hoarse, and he noticed tear stains on her cheeks. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, yet couldn't bring himself to touch her, as if making contact would shatter the fantasy and she'd be gone.

"You look... unbelievable," he whispered, eyes wide, and she leaned her face into his hand. Warmth shot through him, and he ran his thumb across her cheekbone.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" her face was peaceful, but deep in those eyes, he saw the crack in her facade.

"I'm-"

She pressed her lips to his, then took his hand. "Let's go," she turned away, guiding him to the car, and suddenly the chaos of the paparazzi was ringing in his ears once more.

They climbed into the back seat and Phil closed the door behind them, muffling the noise of outside. Jack pulled off his sunglasses and leaned his head back, squeezing his eyes tightly. "I'm so fuckin' sorry, Al."

"It's a little late for sorry," she looked outside, and Jack saw her wipe tears off her cheeks. "I'm not here for you. Rez made me."

Jack sighed, then leaned forward and tucked his head between his knees, clasping his hands over the back of his head.