Mixed in the crowd were several men begging him to sign glossy photos and a few obsessive female fans. They just hounded him. One girl with curly brown hair grabbed the sleeve of Ryan’s jacket, pulling him off-balance.

“Hey! Please don’t touch me!” Ryan yelled, yanking his arm away. “Come on, this is not cool!”

Everyone begged for photographs and autographs. “Ryan, Ryan, over here” – the words were chanted over and over again by the different intrusive menaces that plagued us.

I looked up to see the faces of some of his fans; they were mostly young girls – twenty somethings – but there were a few older women there as well. Even though he was with me, it didn’t matter. It was like I wasn’t even there to them. In some twisted way, I was actually glad the photographers were surrounding us; they provided a barrier between us and his female admirers.

I looked up at the parking lot long enough to see my car, but something was horribly wrong; different colors of white, red, and hot pink stood out against the stark black paint. When we got close enough, I was relieved but now angry; my car was covered with love notes, cards, and all sorts of paper. Notes to him were stuck in the door handles and under the windshield wipers. My windshield was covered with crap. I quickly cleared the passenger side while Ryan grabbed handfuls of paper from the driver side, tossing them all to the ground.

I hopped into the car as fast as I could and locked the door behind me. The crowd was terrifying. The same girl who grabbed his arm, the one with long, curly brown hair, pressed her hands on the driver side window yelling “I love you” at Ryan. I noticed she had a big gap in between her front teeth. These people were scary and sick.

Ryan looked over his shoulder to back my car out of the spot, but we were surrounded by people on all sides. I tried to cover my eyes with my hand to block the camera flashes; the photographers were relentless.

“I should have called for security,” he muttered under his breath. “This is fucking ridiculous. Move already!”

He continued to inch back out of the parking spot until the crowd finally parted enough for him to back up all the way.

Even as we drove out of the lot, photographers ran along side the car, continuing to take our picture. Ryan got my car out on the road and hit the gas pedal; my tires squealed from the power. Ryan looked like we just robbed a bank; his expression was a combination of panic, frustration, and anger.

“Are you all right?” he almost yelled at me.

“I’m fine,” I stated calmly, looking over at him. “How are you?”

He shook his head and let out a big lung-full of air. “Unfuckingbelievable.”

This is exactly what I was referring to this morning in bed. How could he stand to deal with this craziness all the time? Today was certainly not the first day something like this happened to him. At what point do you tell yourself that the money and fame isn’t worth it? Even though I was thinking it, I didn’t say a word to him about it. I knew he was beside himself; it was clear that the turmoil was wreaking havoc on his brain.

“How do I get on the interstate from here?” he asked excitedly.

“Turn right in three lights.” I tried to remain calm. “Do you have their address?”

Ryan locked up my brakes and made a quick right turn through one of the neighborhoods. I grabbed the seat with one hand and the door armrest with the other as he wove my car through the streets.

“We’re being followed,” he growled. “Don’t let me hit any dead end streets!”

My heart was pounding and I was slightly petrified.

“Taryn!” Ryan shouted. “Where to?”

“Left,” I breathed.

He handed me a slip of paper that he took from his coat pocket. “That’s where we need to end up. Direct me.”

“Turn right at the gas station. Down there, get on the 103. See the sign?”

Ryan nodded. His lips were pursed tightly together. I could tell he was seething.

“Ryan, it’s okay. There’s no one behind us,” I whispered, patting his leg with my hand. As soon as I said it, a large SUV turned the same corner.

“Wrong!” he shouted, making a right turn through a red light.

“Make a left and then a right and get on the 103. It’s a highway.”

I felt the car accelerate even faster.

“Ryan…” I breathed and slid my hand onto his leg. We were going almost ninety miles per hour.

“I’m just trying to put some distance between us,” he muttered. His tone was still irritated.

I looked over my shoulder and out the rear window. “Are we still being followed?”

“I don’t know if I lost them but I’m not taking any chances.”

I entered the address into the navigation system; soon the computer was giving him driving directions. He let out a big breath of air; I noticed he calmed down a little. He dropped the speedometer down to seventy-five.

“You okay, Babe?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He smiled at me briefly and then patted my thigh.

During the next ten minutes of complete silence, I thought about all the crap we removed from my car and how it was just laying there in the parking lot. Even though I didn’t want to know what his fans had to say in them, the fact that they were laying all around my monthly rental space bothered me.

“Ryan, when we get back tonight, I need to pick up all that paper in the parking lot. That lot doesn’t belong to me; I have to pay a monthly fee to park there and I can’t leave my spot all littered like that.”

He nodded at me. “I’ll take care of it.” With one call, he made arrangements to have Jason clean it up.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

He loosened his grip on the steering wheel. “Did you talk to Marie about covering the bar while my parents are visiting?”

“Not yet,” I replied. I had been putting that conversation off.

“Tar, please. Can’t you take a couple of days off?” he pleaded. “I finally have a normal weekend and I really want you to be with me.”

“What were you planning on doing?” I asked, wondering how I could be in two places at once.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I was sort of hoping that you might have some ideas. I want to take us all out to dinner Friday night though –

someplace very nice for my mom’s birthday. Do you have any suggestions of where we can take them?”

“I know a few nice restaurants.”