Rising Star: Book 3 of The Orion Series

Wisp Of Smoke

They didn't come to listen to your lie

The one that peers out from under your eyes

So shut your yap, it's just a trap

Smile as the days go by

Single file

Long ago I was lost

Stuck deep within the permafrost

Hacking coughs, stacking costs

Gaining a grandiose fistful of loss

One day I'll be gone

Left only this song

And wouldn't that be just a happy thing?

--the song Sing, lyrics by Orion Bauwens

It's day two of not seeing or hearing from Orion. He's holed up in his house since what happened in Hollywood. I had texted him to see how he was feeling but didn't get a reply back. I go about my business as usual, but there's a gnawing worry in the back of my mind.

I try to ignore it. He's a grown ass man. If he wanted to talk, he would. But this was now the second time he puked from what I could only guess was from nerves, the first being our when we went back to Michigan on tour. There was starting to be a huge difference between the kid that waved at fans out the window after our first interview and the one I had seen two days ago.

And I gotta say, I'm not really a fan of the guy I saw two days ago.

I'm singing along to some Pink Floyd when there's a knock on my door. It was a good thing I was walking through at that point, otherwise I wouldn't have heard it.

"Alexa," I say, the music quieting. "Pause the music."

As the music stops, I open the door.

"Oh, hey Ben! S'up, buddy?"

"Hey," he responds, not very enthusiastically. "Could I come in?"

"Of course, I'm just doing some cleaning."

Before we even get the chance to sit, Ben speaks. "I'm worried about Orion."

I frown as we sit. "Yeah...me too, man."

"I mean, he's always been, well--off."

I nod.

"But that meltdown...wow."

All I can do is nod some more in agreement.

"Do you think he's doing drugs?"

I think a moment but then shake my head. "No. I honestly don't think so. I think he's just fucked in the head."

"Do you think there's like, something wrong with him?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not a therapist, so I'm not gonna sit here and gossip about my best friend."

"It's not gossip," Ben snaps at me, sounding offended. "I'm worried."

"If you're worried, then you should ask him."

"I tried," he huffs, leaning back. He crosses his arms and turns his head, glaring to the side. "He didn't return my texts."

"Yeah, mine either."

A silence blankets us. Finally Ben looks back at me. "What should we do?"

"What can we do?"