Page 225 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

I must’ve dozed off.

Eventually I reach for the knob,

flip the lock,

then turn it slow and open the door.

He’s still there,

curled into himself, spine against the wall, head tucked into his crossed arms that are folded over his bent knees.

He’s still in black bellhop pants,

his shirt wrinkled,

badge still clipped on.

I can’t tell if he’s asleep

or stubborn

or dead.

Either way,

he stayed.

For now.

48 / IT’S ALL COMING BACK TO ME NOW

CELINE DION

// DEC 10, 4:59 AM //

HELL WEEK: TUESDAY, DAY TWO

Day two.

We separate the weak from the naive.

It’s 4:59 a.m. I’m sitting at the breakfast table in the dark.

Don’t know how to work the $800 coffee machine, so I’m sipping cream and sugar out of a mug.

The rest of the assholes are asleep.

It’s quiet in the penthouse.

There’s a clock ticking somewhere.

Winter winds knock at the glass windows, trying to stop me. But there’s no stopping me.

I was born to ruin mornings.

(Breached and came out swinging.)

It’s almost showtime.