I hadn't felt as clear-headed as I felt at that moment in years, looking out at the massive red Golden Gate Bridge. It was a warm summer day and the bay breeze cooled my sun-heated skin. I was being a full on tourist, standing there taking a picture of it with my camera phone. Then I decided to take a selfie. What the fuck, why not? I thought and I held the camera out at arms' length and smiled with the bridge behind me. My first selfie, all by myself. A new beginning. A new life, I thought. I'd not posted anything on social media in over three years, and decided this was as good of a time as any. I was working on a new solo record, and decided right then it was time to announce it.
"Marty," I called and strolled toward him, as I downloaded all the deleted social media apps back on my phone. "I'm going to announce my solo endeavor."
His eyes batted with surprise, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Wow. Okay. Are you sure you're ready?"
"Yep. This day. This time. I finally feel a real sense of freedom and…" I breathed in happily. "Hope. I'm feelin' hopeful." I nodded and refocused on my task at hand.
Boom. I tapped post, and there it was, my mug on Instagram - the caption: I'm back! Get ready, Killas. New solo tracks are comin'. That post fed the rest of my accounts, and my phone began to explode with reply push notifications. It was music to my ears, and fire burst inside me. An excitement I'd thought I'd never feel again.
Marty stood next to me, smiling, taking his own pictures. He'd never been to San Francisco. I'd rehired Marty to drive me around and to be my wingman. With a conscious decision to move on from the past, to make amends with those I'd hurt so deeply, included my mother and Notting, I was more determined than ever to bury the past. I'd done so much damage, it was hard to choose where to begin, but I started with Marty.
I'd not driven a car since my third DUI. Two happened within a sixth month period, and I'd spent almost six months in jail with heavy fines and a massive settlement. Not that I couldn't drive; I just didn't want to. I'd almost killed a teenaged girl running a red light, t-boning her car a year and a half prior, and I had not touched a steering wheel since. The desire to be alone behind the wheel was a million miles away.
I swam in my eager thoughts of a new life, as I prepared to run face-first into my old life at Bobby and Marshall's engagement dinner. They'd moved to the little bay side town of Tiburon, just south of San Francisco. Marshall worked in San Francisco as a fashion design assistant, and Bobby still toured as a hired hand with various bands from time to time. The success from our band, Rita's Revolt, allowed Bobby a very comfortable life. Money from all of our music publishing would always be coming in, and it made me feel good that I'd made the choice to include him and Dump in the publishing rights, even though I'd been the one to write all of our songs. I thought of Sienna and sincerely hoped she was doing well. I didn't think she'd be at this dinner, but a bit of fear ran through me. I didn't want my past to cause any drama for Bobby and Marshall.
"Hey, Marty."
"Yeah?"
"Have you heard anything from or about Sienna?"
I strolled over to Marty, dodging a sea of Japanese tourists, young and old, exciting a tour bus. I smiled at the ones who'd stared at me, wondering if any of them would recognize me. Japan was one of our biggest fanbases, but if anyone did, no one said anything. I'd fallen off the face of the planet after Dump's death, and especially after that stunt at The Roxy with the song I'd made with Aly. Other than bad tabloid press - I'd vanished.
"No, I haven't." He shook his head with concern.
"Yeah. Me neither." Sienna told me to leave her alone. She'd apologized to me, as if it was all her fault we'd done the unthinkable. She'd said she wanted to start a new life, with none of us in it.