Through the Hill Country

From August 28th to September 3rd, Vanity's world fell apart in ways he couldn't have anticipated. Within just a few days, everything he had been holding onto slipped through his fingers. A connection he deeply valued was shattered, a casualty of a manic episode that took over without warning. His manager, who was also a close friend, was let go from work, pushing Vanity further into the instability he had feared. To top it off, his car—something he had worked so hard for—was stolen, leaving him feeling helpless. And then came the news that his grandpa’s cancer had returned, casting a heavy weight over everything else.

Vanity lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, wishing he could turn back time to last Monday when everything seemed fine. If he could go back, he’d warn himself that a storm was coming. Instead, here he was—feeling lost and on the verge of another manic episode, his thoughts urging him to destroy everything in his path. The familiar sense of control and confidence he found in his Vanity persona was gone. This wasn’t the strong and composed figure people knew—this was Andy, raw and overwhelmed. Vanity thought he had grown beyond this kind of breakdown, but now it felt like he was sliding back into a place he hadn't been in for years.

The following Tuesday, the day after his life seemed to spiral, Vanity received the news about his grandpa's illness. It felt like the final blow, and the darkness that followed was suffocating. As things seemed to get worse, Vanity reached out to his friend Margot, sharing his overwhelming sadness. That night, Margot did something he’d never experienced before—she gave him an evening filled with self-care, wine, food, and a quiet conversation that soothed some of the chaos swirling inside him. She knew what he needed without having to ask, bringing over a bottle of BIG SALT wine, his favorite, and guiding him through a self-care routine in the shower. For the first time in a while, Vanity realized how much he had been neglecting himself.

The next morning, they had a day planned—an escape from everything that had been crushing him. They grabbed coffee from a small shop in downtown Austin and headed out for Fredericksburg. The day began with an 8-mile hike, the only sounds being nature and their own thoughts. Vanity started the hike feeling low, but somewhere along the trail, his mindset began to shift. Instead of wallowing, he allowed himself to step back into the Vanity persona, putting on his headphones as "Vogue" played. With every step, he let go of the heartache, the stolen car, and the stress over money and told himself everything was going to be okay.

As he walked, Vanity reflected on the good things still ahead for the year. He reminded himself that this storm was temporary, just another challenge that would one day seem small in hindsight. He thought of his past struggles and how they, too, had once seemed insurmountable. Now, they were just stories he laughed about. He imagined how 2020 Andy would feel if he knew he’d eventually fulfill a big part of his bucket list by moving to Austin. Or how, in 2017, Andy would never have guessed he’d be hiking in Texas with a girl from Boston, two people from opposite coasts brought together in a new chapter of life.

Though the day wasn’t without its stumbles—getting lost, separated, and even scraping his leg—Vanity reminded himself that everything would be fine. After the hike, they went to the river for a swim, or in Vanity's case, a float (since he still couldn’t swim). The water was calming, and the quiet moments by the river helped soothe the chaos in his mind. The next stop was a vineyard for some wine and journaling, and as they drove through Fredericksburg, Vanity took a moment to reflect on how far he’d come. The peacefulness of the Hill Country washed over him—miles of land, animals grazing, and the absence of city noise.

Vanity thought back to his journey—how a boy from a small town in California had ended up here, living a life he never imagined in Texas. He realized that, as much as it hurt now, everything was happening for a reason. His heartbreak, his car being stolen, the stress—it all had a purpose, even if it wasn’t clear yet. Driving through the rolling hills, he felt a sense of gratitude for the people in his life. His friend T had taken him out for a drink the day after his car was stolen, which Vanity desperately needed. Sasha had been there, offering him rides and a shoulder to cry on, listening to his pain. And Margot, who had given him two days of laughter, comfort, and care, showed him the power of friendship when he needed it most.

Through it all, Vanity was reminded of the importance of gratitude, even during the darkest times. The people in his life, the challenges he faced, and the moments of joy—no matter how fleeting—were all part of the bigger picture. And while he might not have all the answers now, Vanity knew that, eventually, everything would be okay.

Fragments of Former Selves

Vanity stood on the rooftop of the Barton Hotel, feeling the warm breeze against his face as he took in the Austin skyline. Austin wasn’t his hometown, but it had become his place to piece things back together after everything fell apart. When You Die by MGMT was playing in his ears, and it felt like more than just a song. It was like a sign, telling him that this version of himself was on its way out, making room for whatever was next.

It had been four years since Vanity allowed himself to dive deep into his feelings. Tonight, standing on the rooftop, those buried emotions came flooding back. Dreams he’d long forgotten started to surface, reminding him of everything he once wanted but had let go. They nudged him to rediscover parts of himself he’d lost along the way.

The unraveling began back in November 2020. A huge fight with his dad had ripped their already shaky relationship apart. Vanity walked out that day with just a backpack, car keys, and a pack of cigarettes, knowing he couldn’t go back. That day marked the end of his old life. For the next two years, he drifted around, never really settling, always feeling like a guest in other people’s lives.

Then, in October 2022, moving to Austin seemed like a chance for a fresh start. For a while, it was exactly that. He started working at the Barton Hotel in November and felt like he finally belonged somewhere. But now, as he looked out from the rooftop, he felt the weight of those four years pressing down on him. What once excited him now drained him, leaving him feeling empty.

With this job came losses—seeing friendships fall apart and watching his friend Cody’s mental health spiral. Cody’s self-sabotage reminded Vanity of his own past struggles, and her inability to take responsibility made it harder for him to trust anyone. Adding to the hurt, Evan, Cody’s friend, snagged a job Vanity had hoped for. Even years after losing a 14-year friendship and trying hard to build new connections, Vanity found it tough to let people in. The constant fear that they’d leave was always lurking, making real love from friends and family feel overwhelming. How could he accept love when he feared it might be gone the next day?

That fear of never being enough, of being unlovable, made him resent the very thing he craved. He wanted connection, but every time he started to trust someone, he remembered how easily people left, and he shut down. It seemed easier to keep people at arm’s length than risk losing them again.

Recently, Vanity had felt a shift inside him—a sense that something was changing. The Tower card from his latest tarot reading haunted him, symbolizing upheaval and transformation. It felt like the universe was bracing him for another storm. With Mercury in retrograde, a time for endings and new beginnings, he was left wondering how to let go and trust that everything would be okay.

Self-sabotage had been a constant in Vanity’s life. Trauma had taught him to push away anything good, to destroy his happiness before it could be taken. Each day felt like digging his own grave and watching the good things wither away. Replay by Lady Gaga kept playing in his head: “Every single day, yeah, I dig a grave, then I sit inside it wondering if I’ll behave.” The song captured his endless cycle of self-destruction, but when would Vanity realize he was the one triggering it?

Trauma had been woven into Vanity’s life from the start—witnessing domestic violence, suffering abuse, and facing rejection from his parents for being gay. Losing long-time friendships, sabotaging relationships, and the recent betrayal by his cousin had only reinforced his belief that he was unlovable.

As When You Die continued to play, Vanity thought about all the times he’d been on the brink of change. Each time, he faced the end of something—a relationship, a job, a chapter in his life. And now, he found himself on the edge of another transformation, hoping this time would be different.

The lesson Vanity had learned through all this was hard-earned: Change isn’t just about leaving the past behind; it’s about embracing it. Every version of himself, no matter how flawed, was part of his journey. He couldn’t keep digging graves and burying pieces of himself. Instead, he had to reclaim them, see them as parts of his story rather than mistakes. Maybe this time, instead of running from the past, he could face it, learn from it, and finally move forward. Maybe he could let people in, knowing that loss is part of the journey but not the whole story. And maybe, just maybe, he could accept the love he deserved, even if it scared him.