After Demi returned a bit later to Jack’s bedroom with breakfast, Jack sat up, blinking against the harsh morning light. The tray was laden with food: eggs, bacon, toast, fruit, and a large glass of orange juice. It was too much, too early, but he knew better than to argue. He started eating, mechanically shoveling food into his mouth as Demi rattled off their itinerary.
"You’ve got a photoshoot at ten, lunch with your family at twelve-thirty, a strategy meeting with the publisher and marketing team in the afternoon, then a meeting with the executive producer about the movie adaptation," she said, ticking off each item on her fingers. "And don’t forget the charity gala tonight."
Jack nodded, barely listening. His mind was already rebelling against the day ahead. He felt like a puppet, yanked around by invisible strings, with no control over his own life.
As they drove to their first appointment, Jack's thoughts churned. He was grateful for Demi's dedication—she had been with him since the beginning, guiding him through the labyrinth of fame and success. But lately, he felt suffocated. Every day was a blur of obligations, each one more draining than the last.
He missed the simplicity of his old life, before the book deals and the paparazzi. He missed writing for the pure joy of it, not because it was expected of him. He missed being able to walk down the street without being recognized, without the constant pressure to perform.
"Are you listening to me?" Demi's voice snapped him back to the present.
"Yeah, sorry," he mumbled. He rubbed his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. "It's just... a headache, you know?"
She softened, her stern expression melting into concern. "I know it's hard, Jack. But you have to keep pushing. People are counting on you."
"I know," he sighed. "I just wish..."
He trailed off, not knowing how to finish the sentence. He wished for so many things—for freedom, for peace, for a moment to breathe. But those wishes felt like luxuries he couldn't afford.
Jack's breakfast sat heavy in his stomach as he stared at the back of the driver's head. The morning light streamed through the car windows, casting a harsh glare on his thoughts. He could feel the car's engine vibrating beneath him, each hum intensifying his discomfort. It all felt like a weighty stone was resting on his insides.
"Please, pass me a bottle of water," he said to Demi, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.
Demi looked suspiciously at him but then opened a small cooler and took out a bottle. Her movements were precise, almost mechanical, as if she had done this a thousand times before. "Are you okay?" she asked as she handed him the bottle, her eyes narrowing with concern.
Jack grabbed it and opened it, clearing his throat seriously. He drank like a dehydrated man after a marathon, gulping and gasping. One or two drops spilled over his chin and dripped on his suit. He released the bottle, and it hissed loudly as it took back its shape.
Jack let out his held breath and then inhaled heavily. The lump had gone down his throat, and he felt better, though still stiflingly full from breakfast. Maybe Demi would be amused to see him wobbling around to all the day’s engagements. He turned his head to scowl at her and saw that she was looking at him strangely.
"What?" he asked, putting the bottle into the holder by his side of the door.
“What’s with the frown?” she prodded, her tone a mix of irritation and concern.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Jack shifted in the seat, contemplating his fullness with a firm hand on his stomach. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, glancing out the window. The cityscape blurred past, a mosaic of gray and steel, indifferent to his internal turmoil.
"Don't be like that." she responded.
"I’m just rather full, is all. It's ok," he said. He gave a forced smile and made sure to look her in the eye. She stopped, mouth slightly parted, and stared at him with unblinking eyes. He wondered if she thought he did not appreciate her care.
"Hey..." Jack put a hand on hers. "I'm sorry. I appreciate everything you do for me. It just all feels like too much right now. But I understand that this is the life I have to live—it's not your fault."
She looked at him for a moment before saying anything else. "You don't look like you understand, Jack," she said in a scared voice, "you look like you'd rather run away from it all."
Jack opened his mouth to counter her immediately, but his words hooked in his throat. He stared at her lips and tried to force himself to say what he wanted to. Nonetheless, something else fought itself through. "Well, I couldn't run away now, could I?"
It wasn't the defensive answer he wanted to give, but it was closer to the truth than what he should have said. It was too much of a truth even for himself, and so he stared out the window and spoke no more.
Jack felt her bright eyes boring into him. He pitied her because he was more and more of a nightmare to deal with as the days went on. He was increasingly losing the battle over the desire to escape the farce that was his life. There was something inside of him that was trying to get free. That part was becoming bolder, showing its ungrateful face without shame. It was the part of him that was tired of the party that his life had become. It wanted to get out. It wanted to be free. It wanted to feel the breeze in a calm, quiet place far from the noise of all that they currently had and were. It wanted true meaning and connection but
Jack knew none of these could be his, they just weren’t an option.
The car ride continued in tense silence, broken only by the occasional murmur of the driver. Jack felt the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him, a suffocating blanket of dread.
"What's really going on, Jack?" Demi finally asked, her voice gentle but probing.
He hesitated, then sighed. "I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Demi. I'm tired."
She stared at him, shock and confusion flickering in her eyes.
"I just... I need a break. From everything."
Silence settled between them. Demi’s face tightened, her concern giving way to a more practical edge. "You can’t just walk away, Jack. You’ve got responsibilities—to your fans, your career... to me."
"I know," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "But what about my responsibility to myself?"
The words hung in the air as the car slowed, Jack’s attention pulling to the massive gates ahead. They opened smoothly, revealing a sprawling estate—his parents’ home. The house stood grand and imposing, a reflection of their newfound wealth. Large windows gleamed in the sunlight, the lawn perfectly manicured, the whole place exuding a grandeur that felt overdone, undeserved.
Jack’s gaze lingered, the sight pulling him from the conversation. The house, though beautiful, felt empty—just like the life it had built around his success.
"Jack?" Demi’s voice brought him back.
"Let's just get through today," he said, forcing a smile. "One step at a time."
Demi nodded, though the clouded concern in her gaze lingered. "One step at a time," she echoed.
As Jack stepped out of the car, a strange sense of resolve settled over him. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but he knew something had to change. Today, though, he would play the role expected of him—the dutiful son, the celebrated author. But deep inside, a small flicker of hope remained—a hope that one day, he’d find a way to break free from the gilded cage his life had become.
Straightening his tie, he adjusted his suit, the familiar weight of the mask slipping into place as he forced a smile. It was the face everyone expected, the one he wore so well. Yet underneath, he clung to that quiet spark of rebellion, the faint but growing desire to reclaim his life from the expectations that threatened to consume him.
As he walked into his parents' grand house, the weight of it all pressed down on him. The day ahead would be long, the challenges familiar, but Jack made a silent promise to himself: he wouldn’t let this life swallow him whole. One day, he would fight for his own happiness—and find a way to truly be free.