Chapter 5:
Taylor tossed his empty coffee cup into a nearby trash can and continued his fast-paced walk to the subway. He had no real destination in mind so there was no need to be rushing, but he felt like he had to keep up with the rest of the city's inhabitants who seemed to be in a heated race toward an unknown finish line. For someone who had spent so much of his life living out of a suitcase, hopping all over the map from place to place, one would think that Taylor was absolutely sick and tired of traveling. Of being thrown outside of his comfort zone. But he actually liked feeling a bit like a wandering soul as he navigated the New York City streets.
Of course, there were certain things he missed about his house back in Tulsa. He'd practically been living in his hotel room for the past week since arriving in New York, and it was starting to get old. He missed his kitchen and big flat-screen TV. His studio and his instruments. But he knew if he flew back home, he'd be returning to a life that was much more painful than it was comfortable. A life that, quite possibly, wasn't meant for him anymore.
He left his hotel room around 3 o'clock that afternoon. He stopped by the front desk with the hope that Mason was working and he'd have someone to talk to, but she was nowhere to be found. So he decided to explore the city on his own. With no particular plan in mind, Taylor found himself filing into a crowded subway train along with a sea of strangers. He secured a seat only moments before the train sped away and was jostled forward, his elbows colliding roughly with his knees.
"Hello?" a female voice called out to him.
Taylor lifted his head, surprised and a little bit panicked. He suddenly wished he had a hat or at least a pair of sunglasses to hide behind. (In his rush to leave Tulsa, he'd forgotten to pack both of those crucial items.) New York City was big, but not big enough to escape the hundreds of fans who were bound to recognize him eventually. And he was not in the mood to be recognized.
"I asked if you were saving this seat for anyone," the girl continued, gesturing to the narrow space on the bench beside him.
"No, it's all yours," he said, his anxiety melting away when he realized that she wasn't a crazy fan, but just another person searching for a place to sit on the subway.
When she sat down beside him and pulled out her cell phone, Taylor studied her profile. Her long, wavy blonde hair was slightly messy from the wind outside, and several thick locks fell into her eyes. She wore a simple, fitted black shirt and a pair of jeans that were frayed around the thighs.
"Hi Lana, it's Lex. I'm so sorry, but I'm running behind today. I've just been hit by one delay after another. I'm on my way though," she said into the phone, talking loudly over the noise of the train. "I hardly get any reception where I am right now so I'd better go. I'll see you soon."
Only seconds after she'd ended the call, the train shook violently and sent her cell phone flying out of her hand. It landed right at Taylor's feet.
He bent down and picked it up, smiling as he handed it back to her. "Don't you hate how these things don't work underground?" he asked.
"Yeah, especially when you have to call your boss to let her know you're going to be a half-hour late," she said as she slid the phone into her purse. "I wasn't planning on taking the subway to work today."
"This is New York - you should always anticipate riding the subway," he said jokingly.
"You're obviously not from here," she laughed, her hazel eyes flashing as she spoke. "I avoid going underground if at all possible."
It was then that Taylor realized he'd seen her before. They had just about literally run into each other outside of Mason's apartment a week ago.
"You're Mason's friend Alexa, aren't you?" he asked, her name finally dawning on him.
She nodded, smiling strangely like she was guarding an inside joke. "And you're Mason's ex Taylor, aren't you?"
He laughed a genuine laugh for the first time in a long while. "Guilty as charged," he said.
"She talks about you a lot, you know," Alexa said. "It's nice to finally get a chance to talk to you when I'm not busy knocking you over on my way to work."
"You have a habit of being late for work, don't you?" he asked.
"Guilty as charged," she laughed. "Even when I leave the apartment twenty minutes early, I still hardly ever get there on time. But thankfully, my boss is really cool and doesn't get on my case about it."
"What do you do?" he asked.
"I'm a nanny for a filthy rich family," Alexa said. "It's one of those deals where the mom doesn't work and stays home most of the time, but still needs someone to watch over her children while she shops, gets her nails done, and invites her friends over for brunch. It's not exactly what I went to school for, but that's okay. I'm getting paid a much more decent salary than I would at any writing job around here."
"You're a writer?" Taylor didn't know why, but he was incredibly drawn to Alexa even though they'd just met. He wanted to know more about her and was truly interested in her answers, which is a feeling he hadn't felt in quite some time.
"I love to write. But I'm so busy with work that I don't have much time for it anymore," she said. Her gray-green eyes were deep and so easy to fall into, he thought as they continued to speak.
"How about you?" she asked. "Oh wait...that's a stupid question. You're a famous musician in a band."
"We're taking a break right now," Taylor said softly, a familiar feeling of guilt nagging at him. It was a break he hadn't even discussed with his brothers and bandmates, one that they definitely wouldn't agree with.
From the unsurprised look on her face, this was something Alexa already knew, that Mason must have told her. Taylor wondered just how close the two girls actually were. For a moment, he was angry with Mason for airing his dirty laundry to someone else, but the feeling passed quickly. For some reason, he sensed that Alexa could be trusted.
"Well, this is my stop," Alexa said, standing up as the train slowed to a halt. "Maybe I'll see you around."
Taylor watched her walk away from him and disappear into the crowd, wondering if he'd ever see her again. Hoping that he would.
* * * * * * * * *
Taylor sat alone in a small booth in the corner of a sports bar, nursing a tall glass of beer. Since his arrival in New York, he'd spent more time in bars than anywhere else, with the exception of his hotel room. He wondered if he should be worried about his newly-formed habit of drinking during the day, but he quickly dismissed the thought. After all, his wife had left him; wasn't he entitled to this sloppy lifestyle of an abundance of alcohol and a total lack of obligations, for at least a little while?
He closed the menu after flipping through it several times, deciding against ordering any food. His eyes drifted to the TV screen above the bar that was showing the news. He was still avoiding talking to anyone from his life back home and hadn't been glued to his iPhone like he normally was, which made him feel strangely disconnected from the outside world. If a national disaster or tragedy had struck, he didn't know about it; he'd been so immersed in his little bubble of pain and solitude.
He was scanning the snippets of news stories that ran along the bottom of the screen, when several bolded words jumped out at him and made his blood run cold.
"Pop music icon Taylor Hanson goes missing...Breaking news story up next."
Although the bar was mainly populated with old men who weren't even paying attention to the television, he was gripped with an intense fear of being spotted. He pulled his eyes away from the TV screen as he slid deeper into the booth, taking a long drink of beer to calm his quaking nerves. He didn't need to watch the breaking news story; he was living it.
He pulled his thin phone from his back pocket and reluctantly turned it on. His mind spun while he waited for the screen to load. Taylor knew his family was worried about him, but he didn't think it would come to this; that he would see himself listed as a missing person on the national news. The phone began beeping and buzzing atop the table, alerting Taylor of a ridiculous number of text messages, e-mails, and missed calls. He quickly grabbed the phone to quiet it, and with a shaky sigh began scrolling through the messages.
The first text message he landed on was from his older brother, Isaac.
We know that you're in NY. We're coming to find you.
Taylor cursed under his breath and deleted the message, wishing that he could also erase what it meant. So much for thinking he could escape to a city across the country and not face any consequences. His problems always found a way to follow him.