Jack and Demi sat in the car like two strangers, the luxurious interior feeling more like a gilded cage than a sanctuary. The tension between them hung thick in the air, making the silence unbearable. Even the driver, usually invisible, shifted uncomfortably, his occasional throat clearing a sign that he felt the strain too.

The day had been relentless. A morning photoshoot for yet another glossy spread promoting his latest book, followed by an emotional lunch with his family. The afternoon had dragged on with a strategy meeting at the publisher, marketing figures tossed around like they mattered more than the stories he wanted to tell. Every moment was spent playing a role he was beginning to resent, moving from one obligation to the next, feeling more like a puppet than a person.

Now, here they were, en route to yet another obligation, with the weight of the day pressing down on him, and the silence in the car growing heavier with each passing mile.

Finally, Jack couldn’t take it any longer. "You know you can say what you want to say, Demi," he muttered, breaking the uneasy quiet."

"Oh... Can I?" Demi's voice dripped with venom, Jack pivoted to face her. Her eyes narrowed, practically glowing with fury as she turned to face him.

Jack’s mouth opened to respond, but his mind flickered back to everything that had led to this moment—the endless cycle of demands, the suffocating expectations. He saw again the look of betrayal on his parents’ faces when he’d suggested taking a break, the cold detachment in Demi’s eyes as if he had spoken some unforgivable truth. The events of the day, the constant pushing and pulling, all crystallized into a single, suffocating realization: this life wasn’t his anymore.

"You know you can," he said, his voice weary. "But let’s not do this."

He sighed, feeling the weight of everything as he tried to offer her an olive branch. "Demi, look... I know what I said earlier was a shock. I know it was a lot to take in, but please..." He reached for her hand, a gesture of peace, but she snatched it away before he could even touch her.

Her rejection was sharp, but Jack wasn’t surprised. It was just one more crack in the foundation that had been crumbling beneath him all day.

"Please what? What exactly do you want me to do? Stand by silently and pretend everything is fine as you destroy your life and the success you've worked so hard for?" Demi retorted, scathingly.

"I'm not destroying my life!" Jack insisted, giving her a pleading look. "I'm trying to save it."

Demi's expression softened slightly, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. "I don't understand you. Help me understand you!"

"I— I..." Jack wondered how much he could say. "I’m not happy, Demi."

She scoffed. "You have all the money and fame anyone could want!"

"Demi, please listen to me! I'm not happy." Jack repeated, his voice rising in frustration that caught her off guard. The driver's eyes flicked up to him through the rearview mirror, but Jack didn't care. His inner turmoil was too great to worry about appearances. "The fame may be here now, but where is the fulfillment? What's the point of continuing without true happiness?"

Demi stared at him, her mind racing. She had always been the one to push Jack, to keep him on track, to ensure that he stayed at the top. She had sacrificed so much for his career, and now he was talking about throwing it all away. She thought about the countless late nights, the stressful negotiations, and the pressure of maintaining his public image. She couldn't understand how he could even think about giving up.

"You’re joking." Demi looked ill. "Or you must be dreaming. What the hell is going on today, Jack? Is it because I forced you out of bed? Was that it? Is fatigue causing you to say things you don’t mean? Wasn't Jane good enough last night? Do you need more? Hmmm? You want some arranged for you tonight..."

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"No!" Jack yelped, and her eyes widened. "The sex, drugs, and drinks won’t make this go away, Demi. They only make me forget, for a bit, what keeps staring me in the face. Thank you for thinking you were doing something there, but it doesn’t work. None of it does. None!"

Jack struggled to keep his emotions in check, refusing to let the sobs escape. No one would see these “personal demons.” Not even Demi. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, determined to keep it down and maintain his composure. It was difficult, but he managed.

"We have a meeting with an executive producer in thirty minutes," Demi said softly. She had composed herself so solemnly in those few moments Jack had been choking back tears. "They want another book on the screen, Jack..."

Jack understood the calm, quiet tone she had used. He understood the warning in it. "Don't mess this up." It was screaming without even saying anything. She was telling him that this "nonsense" would be filed for later. The priority now was returning to the status quo—being in people's faces and minds the only way they knew how. It was the very thing his heart was crying against, and that he had said so clearly he could no longer do.

She was not listening to him. She couldn't hear him. The surety of that saddened him and then began to annoy him. It annoyed him enough to give him the clarity he needed.

"I can no longer write erotica, Demi. I don't want to do it anymore."

"You can't do that to yourself and all we've built," she countered, her face reddening.

"I would love it all to crumble to the ground, actually. I would love that."

Her lips trembled before she could force words out of them. "You don't know what you’re saying. You are at the peak, Jack!"

"And now I want to ride straight down the slope and crash into the earth," Jack shot back, his voice edged with a defiance that cut through the air.

She trudged on like she had not heard him. "Another book is about to be made into a movie. Another whole ass erotic book by your hands!"

"You can have the credits if you want it so badly."

Her red face was radiating heat now. "Jack!"

"I would like to get out here, please." Jack tapped the driver who started to slow down immediately. The chauffeur still understood who was boss. "Thanks."

"Jack!" Demi said again, and nothing more than that. Her trembling lips said everything. "Jack!"

"Thank you, go ahead and take her home," Jack said again to the driver who had, in good faith, parked by the corner. "I have to do this Dem, I’m sorry."

Jack hastily scrambled out as Demi called his name again. He leapt onto the sidewalk with determination and started running.

Jack's feet pounded the pavement, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He ran without a clear destination, driven by the need to escape. The city blurred around him, a cacophony of sights and sounds that he barely registered. All he knew was that he had to keep moving, to put distance between himself and the life that was suffocating him.

As he ran, memories flooded his mind—his first book deal, the thrill of seeing his name reach the bestseller list, the countless nights spent writing. But with those memories came the darker ones—the pressure, the expectations, the sense of being trapped in a role he no longer wanted to play.

Eventually, Jack found himself in a small, quiet park. He slowed to a stop, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. He collapsed onto a bench, his mind racing. The park was a world away from the chaos of his life, a place where he could think clearly for the first time in what felt like years.

As he sat there, the reality of what he had done began to sink in. He had walked away from everything—his career, his family, his obligations. But instead of fear or regret, he felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, he had taken control of his own life. Jack then began to feel something welling up inside of him, and in moments he was laughing defiantly at what he just did. A glimmer of freedom captured.

Jack knew that the road ahead would be difficult. There would be backlash, consequences, and challenges he couldn't yet foresee. But he also knew that he couldn't go back to the way things were. He had to find a new path, one that allowed him to be true to himself.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the park, Jack stood up. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his decision but also the promise of freedom. With renewed determination, he started walking, ready to face whatever came next.