Chapter 42: Vee

My career was thriving. My latest film had led to new contracts, some more promising than others, but I was fortunate enough to select those I believed would be the most rewarding. Months of nonstop work, travel, events, and learning what lay ahead. And although I, occasionally, felt consumed by loneliness, I found fulfillment in my professional achievements. I had finally arrived.

Personally, however, stability eluded me. When asked in interviews if I had friends, I could rattle off a seemingly endless list of names, many of them celebrities. Yet, deep down, upon returning home, I felt no desire to socialize with any of them. All of my relationships were shallow, and superficial, masked by a false veneer that once scratched away, revealed nothing of value beneath.

When asked about love, I would chuckle mischievously and whisper the name of my current bed partner, even though our relationships were purely physical and rarely lasted more than a few weeks. It was even worse than that; sometimes, I couldn’t recall whose lips I was kissing.

I was nurturing the character I had invented, while my authentic self was being devoured by my own creation.

I was utterly exhausted. Or, perhaps, I was mistaking exhaustion for depression.

The truth is that everything repelled me. I needed to escape, but not through alcohol, meaningless sex, or drugs.

Then, one day, my phone rang.

I took it out of my bag and looked at the name on the screen. Yaron.

I couldn’t face him; I couldn’t let Yaron see me like this, so I ignored the call.

It ran again.

And again.

And again.

I finally took the call with a lump in my throat and a bad feeling.

“Yaron?”

“Vee, you need to come home.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s your father.”

End of Part 2