It wasn’t like she was going to pick up anyway.

Later on he brought me back to the penthouse, and Ma looked horrified to see I’d been drinking. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take a small amount of pleasure in that. She’d screwed things up for me with Annie, so I wasn’t feeling so warm toward her right then.

The next morning I woke up with a thumping headache. It was safe to say this was the first time I’d experienced a hangover in a long while. Even after all the drama of my breakup with Brona, I never hit the bottle. I was being ridiculous. After some exercise and a nourishing breakfast, I decided to try a different tack and emailed The Socialmedialite.

March 23

10:07 a.m.

Dear SML,

Here lies the message of a desperate man.

I need your advice. It saddens me to admit that I’m having woman troubles. I’m crazy about Annie, but she’s not taking my calls. We were getting along great, but then my mother showed up for an impromptu visit and said some harsh stuff to her, all of which was complete bullshit. My mother can be possessive and overprotective, but that doesn’t excuse her behavior. In a nutshell, Annie’s feelings were hurt, and she ended things. I need to make this right, but I have no idea what to do. You’re a woman—tell me how women think, what they need.

Your suggestions are much appreciated.

Ronan

After stewing for a minute or two, I hit “send” and waited. And waited. And then waited some more. Deciding that a watched pot never boils, I went and took a run around the park. I was going overboard with the exercise, but it was the only thing that channeled my restless energy. I had REO Speedwagon blaring on my iPod in an effort to drown out my thoughts.

I spotted a group of college guys playing a game of rugby and offered to join in. A couple of them actually recognized me and were over the moon to have me take part. All of Annie’s teachings must have been rubbing off on me because I took the opportunity to take a picture with them and posted it to Instagram.

@RonanFitz: Saw these boys in the park. Decided to join them for a match.

I felt weird and stilted in the way I wrote the caption, but I just didn’t know how to insert my personality into the post. Still, after only a couple of minutes, the picture had thousands of “likes,” and people were commenting on how they wished they could be there. A bunch of people who were in the area even came by to watch. It surprised the shit out of me. I’d never tried anything like this before, never knew the influence a single picture could have. I mean, people who had seen the picture came to watch the game, and they were actually nice to me, offering compliments and words of support.

We all got very excited to have an audience, and things got a little over-enthusiastic between me and the boys. I walked away with a couple of bruises, but for the first time in a long while, I felt good about the sport. I’d been so angry about what the fame had brought into my life that I’d almost forgotten how much I loved to just play, be a part of a team, enjoy the sense of competition and camaraderie.

And, to be completely honest, I loved the brutality of it. Though it was a match, it was real in a way real life isn’t. You hit, you scrum, you fight, you kick and punch and beat the living shit out of each other, and it’s glorious. Everyone knows the point. Everyone knows the goal. There’s no second-guessing, and there are no pulled punches.

After the match, I signed a bunch of autographs and talked to the people who’d shown up. I declined going to the pub for an obligatory beer. By the time I got home, I was exhausted but in a good way.

“Where have you been all day?” Ma asked when I arrived at the penthouse. There was a hint of annoyance in her voice that said she was looking for a fight, but I wasn’t going to engage her.

“Out,” I replied shortly and walked down the hall to my room.

“Well, that’s you told,” Lucy chuckled from where she’d been lounging on the sofa reading a magazine.

“Shut up, you,” Ma snapped, and I heard her heels clicking on the wood floor before the front door opened and shut, signaling her departure.

I opened up my laptop to find a response from The SML.

March 23

5:22 p.m.

Hi, Ronan,

I don’t remember ever telling you I was female. Still, if you want my advice, here it is:

If Annie needs space, give her space. From the stories about her so far in the press, she sounds like a sensitive girl, and perhaps cooling things off for a while could be a good thing. Maybe your relationship was too much too quickly.

Perhaps the harshness from your mother was a bit of a wake-up call, a good reminder that you belong to a lot of people—and not just your family. Think about it. She’s a normal girl living a normal life. She’s not used to people with cameras following her everywhere she goes. Perhaps it’s not that her feelings for you have changed, but more that all of it—meeting your family, dating a celebrity—is just overwhelming.

I don’t have much more to offer than that.

Of note, I’m going to be away on vacation for the next ten days, so I’ll be out of touch.

Yours,

The SML

P.S. I saw you’ve been a bit of an Instagram sensation today. I think it’s safe to say you’re officially embracing my way of life. Well done! Plus, you must not be so brokenhearted. People were posting lots of pictures of the game in the park, and it looked like you were having a fantastic time:-)

Okay, so she was definitely being passive-aggressive with that last bit. And now I really regretted ever having played that game today. I must have been experiencing a moment of stupidity when I neglected to realize that Annie, being the online wizard that she was, would see the picture I’d posted.