Mending a Broken Heart

Home Sweet Home

Ryan’s POV

Coming back home wasn’t easy. I was the golden boy in high school, now after my surgery and the new release of my second album I was the local celebrity. I didn’t exactly keep in touch with any of my high school friends when I moved to LA, other than the hoards of fans- I just have my family to keep my company while I waste my time here filming the video for my new single. My manager and my producer thought that it would be great if my first single for this album was a duet. Only downside too that is I haven’t written or recorded it yet. 

“Ryan, baby. Please shoot it here, I’ll sing the duet with you” Amy batted her eye lashes at me knowing the sound of her voice was like banging cats against a wall. “Amy, don’t call me that and I need someone who can, I don’t know, sing in key and hold a damn harmony! I am building a career here!” She scoffed and stormed out off my room half naked, at this point I didn’t care. Amy was well aware that I don’t do relationships. She was my one consistent hookup though, maybe I should stop that for a while so she get a little reminder of who she is dealing with- I am Ryan freaking Porter for god sake! My phone buzzed in my pocket, s**t was my car here already, I thought to my self. Nope, just Nathan my manager- that guy was such a buzz kill.

“Ry, my man! Are you ready to hit the sticks this weekend? You must be excited to go back home, you local hero you.” I rolled my eyes, even tho he couldn’t see. “No, Nate. I am not ready. I would rather we go any where else than Macalister to shoot this. Who’s idea was this any ways?” It drove me nuts that people were able to control what I do, where I go, and who I am with. I could hear him smirking through the phone, “My dude, you need to be inspired! Your album release date is right around the corner and your first single isn’t recorded let alone written yet!” I knew he was right, “But why do I have to go home to be inspired? I wrote all of the other songs on the album here, why can’t I do the same with this one? Plus how am I to find a duet partner out there when all the talent is here in LA.” 

At this point, I would say anything to stop myself from having to go back. Back to the place where everyone believes that my life is completely perfect. My publicist works night and day keeping my name clean in the tabloids and since my parents haven’t tried to reach out to me since I left home after my surgery it has been pretty easy to keep the perfect Hollywood boy persona up. “Ryan,” Nate said pulling me from my distant thoughts, “It’s time you rediscovered why you wanted to be a musician in the first place. I’m not saying you have lost your mojo, but you are certainly on your way if you don’t go back to your roots. Plus, I’m sure there is some home town hottie who has a secret talent.” Nate laughed and told me the car will be out front in 10 minutes, little did he know that there is not secret home town hottie with talent. Oklahoma wasn’t like how it was in the movies. 

Nathan and I stayed quite all the way to the airport and then through security. The perks of having a private jet, no long lines. Once on the plane, Megan ran down the itinerary of my trip. With the amount of detail she put in, I am surprised that she didn’t schedule bathroom breaks. “Now, once we land we will need to get you over to the rental house as quickly as possible. I have you scheduled for an interview on the local evening news station. This is to announce your arrival and to get the idea of auditions for your duet partner out there” Can’t a guy get a moments rest, I thought as she continued. “Then in the morning you are doing a radio spot for album portion and ending the day with a NBC segment with your parents about the ‘All American Boy’ with the luck streak they raised.” I rolled my eyes once her back was turned, “I saw that” she said, I’m 25 years old I do not need to me scolded. “Thanks Meg, but do I really need to start the trip this way? Why can’t we keep my arrival a secret for a few days so I can have some peace.”

Peace, right like that will happen once we land. Anyone who has lived in Macalister in the last 10 years knows my name and basically everything about me. I can try to keep a low profile, doubtful that will happen. Megan ignored me the remainder of the flight, she knew better than to try and argue with me. She would win in the end but it would just be a waste of energy. 

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That interview had to of been the worst one of my career so far, I usually enjoy getting hit on my attractive women but this reporter was just bad at it. I am really not sure how much of the interview can actually be used, way to many sexually innuendos for family viewing. I ran out of there faster than security could stop me and found my way over to the local diner. Maybe some homemade pie and coffee could clear my head, I pulled my hat lower over my forehead as I walked in. The girl behind the counter looked familiar but that could have just been from high school. Then it clicked, the diner was called Morgan’s and it belonged to a local family. The last name of my donor was Morgan and he was from Macalister, I wonder if there is a connection there. As I got closer to the counter, seeing the girls smile made my heart flutter. Completely unexpected so when she asked me if I was ready to order or if I needed a menu I was completely thrown and mumbled something about lemon meringue pie and a latte. I hate lemon meringue pie. 

I found my way over to a booth, scrolling through emails I hear a soft voice, “Here ya go, Ryan. Can I get you anything else, Hollywood boy?” How did she know how I was? I barely recognized her. “How did you…” She cut me off before I could even finish, “You were a grade above my brother Marc and I in high school. Not that you knew who either of us was.” Such conviction in her voice, “Marc, right. And you are….” She rolled her eyes with complete and total annoyance, it was the hottest thing I have ever seen. “Andy. My name is Andy, Andrea Morgan. You’re eating in my family’s diner? Any of that ring any bells?” Oh s**t, Marc. Marc Morgan, that was the name. “You’re brother is Marc Morgan?” Looking confused at my nervous remark, “Yes? Do you suddenly remember him or something?” Great, she gave me a cover to start with “Yea! Marc, I’d love to say hi. Do you know if he will be into the diner today or where I could find him” Her face change completely, like the was ready to punch me but she was also off in the distance. “Yea, I know where you can find him. In West View Cemetery.” Damn it. I was right, it was the right Marc Morgan. I am standing in front of the sister of my heart donor and she has no idea.