Trailerpark Bombshell Tally Creed left fans hanging after suddenly canceling the first leg of her much-anticipated ‘Greatest Hits, So Far’ tour. Management promised that the shows would be scheduled for a later date and all ticket purchases would stay valid.
But an industry insider tells us there’s more to the country diva’s vanishing act.
Our source says among recent struggles with songwriter’s block and weight gain, Tally drowned her worries in liquor and suffered a nervous breakdown. She’s currently being treated in a closed mental health facility.
My hands tremble with rage.
Since their source is talking shit, I reckon there’s more to that picture than meets the eye, too. It ain’t like Tally to get sloppy drunk. She can hold her liquor and knows her limits.
My eyes flick to the bottom of the page where the writer is credited. It’s some person called Night Wolfe, the same source credited for the picture. Thatmustbe a pseudonym.
I’d love to see how they’d handle their life under the fucking microscope! I bet they wouldn’t survive a day with every damn decision, every damn smile and every damn breath being scrutinized and captured in pictures.
The shower turns off and panic tightens my chest.
I can’t let Tally see this. It would only hurt her.
I search the room for a way to dispose of the magazine and when I see her purse on the bed, an idea crosses my mind.
A chuckle leaves me as I take out her lighter and set fire to the pages.Burn, motherfucker! If only I could set the asshole who wrote this shit on fire, too. That would teach him.
Satisfied, I watch the flame. My eyes glaze over for a second and when I refocus, my heart drops.
Shit, how long did I zone out?
The blaze licks much higher now. I didn’t think past the setting on fire stage but it’s quickly becoming an issue.
I blow on the magazine and the flame lashes out.
Right, oxygenstokesfire.
I throw the magazine on the floor, grab a pillow from the bed, and start whacking. Smoke curls upward as the flames rise.
Fuck! At this rate, I’m gonna set off the fire alarm.
I stomp on the burning pages when a screech comes from the bathroom door.
Tally stands there wrapped in a towel, wet curls falling into her face. Our eyes meet and it feels like time stops. She must think I’ve lost it.
Way to win back your ex-wife, Rust! Make her think you’re a complete, utter nut-job. Now you’re forever gonna be the guy who almost burned down the motel.
Oh God, now the pillow is on fire, too!
I wave it around and sparks fly while I keep shame-filled eye contact with the love of my life. She’s so pretty, framed by the little embers.
But wait, is that a grin? Is she smiling affectionatelyor is she laughingatme? Big difference. One my heart doesn’t understand. My chest warms and?—
Flames flicker at the edge of my vision, drawing my attention downward.
For once, it’snotpassionate love for Tally heating my chest.
My damn shirt is burning!
25
RUST
“I’m on fire!Fuck, this actually hurts!” I holler.
