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63.9% Redoing My Life (Modern Family) / Chapter 85: Sad Adler

Capítulo 85: Sad Adler

I watched cars and pedestrians pass by the café where I was sitting. The place was alive with activity: cars honked as they navigated through traffic, and people hurried along the sidewalks, engrossed in their own worlds.

My mind was troubled. I had been trying to forget about it all year, trying to erase that thought from my mind.

 The knowledge from my previous life had served me well. I had become rich and famous from that knowledge and was accumulating more and more with each passing year. Yet, the knowledge of a single event had always haunted me: the death of my mother.

Mom had died in an accident in my previous life while she was coming home from work at night. A drunk driver had taken the most important person in my life from me. 

Paranoid that it would happen again, I made every preparation. As the day approached, I had Mom stay with me in the house. I breathed a sigh of relief as the day passed and nothing happened, but it did not ease my worries.

Since then, my paranoia had only increased. I began to dream of her getting into an accident. Everywhere I looked, I saw signs of something bad happening. I began losing sleep over it, feeling like I was losing my mind. I knew there was no real issue; I was just imagining things, being too paranoid.

To clear my mind, I decided to go for a drive, driving aimlessly until I arrived at the café where I was now. My disheveled appearance reflected my inner turmoil. My sandy brown hair was tousled, and my eyes were heavy with sleeplessness, the bags under them telling the tale of my restless nights.

As I was lost in my thoughts, I heard two people behind me talking.

"It's him, I'm sure. It's Daniel Adler."

"No, he isn't."

'Time to leave,' I thought. Paying for the coffee I drank, I decided to take a walk.

I walked through the streets, passing by rows of apartment buildings and small businesses. The buildings were a mix of old and new, some with ivy creeping up their brick facades, while others had fresh coats of paint and modern storefronts. Small businesses thrived here: a quaint bakery with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting out, a tiny bookstore with its door propped open, inviting passersby to browse—one of my books was even on display.

I was worried that mom's accident was fated to happen . I couldn't shake the fear that it might still happen some other way, at another time. Normally, I would dismiss these thoughts, but considering what had happened to me—literally traveling back in time, no, traveling to another reality altogether—made me scared.

'I should have eaten something from the café,' I thought as I felt a pang of hunger.

A food truck caught my eye, parked near a small park just a few feet away. The truck was bright and colorful, adorned with murals of various ingredients. The park next to it was small but charming, with a few benches, well-kept flower beds, and a playground where children played under the watchful eyes of their parents. The autumn leaves added a picturesque touch to the setting, with shades of red, orange, and yellow carpeting the ground.

Walking over, I decided to get a burrito. The food truck had a friendly, bustling atmosphere, with the cook chatting with customers as he prepared their orders. The menu was simple but enticing, offering various types of burritos.

"Give me the number 5, please," I said to the cook.

"Sure thing, coming right up!" he replied with a smile.

I watched as he expertly assembled the burrito, wrapping it tightly in foil before handing it to me. The warmth of the burrito felt comforting in my hands. I thanked him and walked over to the park, looking for a place to sit. I found a bench under a tree, its branches providing a pleasant shade.

People passed by me as I ate the burrito. I must have looked like a bum.

'Why was I so worried about this? The date came and went, and nothing happened to Mom,' I thought, trying to get myself out of this funk.

As I ate, I noticed someone in the distance taking a photo of me.

 Oh great, just what I needed. 

I decided to leave and try to get some sleep at home—sleep that had been evading me for a week. As I began walking back to where I parked my car, I heard someone honk their car horn behind me.

'Great, more paparazzi,' I thought angrily. I turned to see a familiar car and a familiar face waving at me. It was Phil.

"Hey, Daniel! What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just taking a walk," I replied.

"Are you going to your car?" he asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Then get in. I'll drop you off there," he said.

I shrugged and got inside. "Thanks, Phil," I said as I settled into the passenger seat.

"No problem, D-Dog," Phil said with a smile. "What happened? You look like you haven't slept in days."

"Oh, it's nothing," I replied, trying to brush it off.

"You know, Haley has been complaining about you not answering her calls," Phil said.

'Oh right, I've been so fixated on the mom issue that I've been ignoring everything else. I really need to make things right with Haley,' I thought, feeling a pang of guilt.

"You can tell me, Daniel. We're just two men, you know, and we live in a time where we can talk about our feelings," Phil said, giving me an encouraging look. Ah, Phil, never change.

"I've just been really fixated on something, and it's been making focusing on other things in my life difficult," I admitted.

"Well, you know what they say," Phil began, "worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but never gets you anywhere. You gotta find a way to relax and get your mind off things."

"Yeah, you're right," I said, feeling a bit lighter.

"Hey, why don't you come with me to where I'm going? It'll help you get your mind off things," Phil suggested.

"Where are you going?" I asked, curious.

"I'm going to a magic show," Phil said with a wide grin. "And after that, we can get some ice cream. It'll be fun, and you'll forget all about whatever's bothering you."

With nothing else to do, I accepted. "Alright, sounds like a plan."

"Great! We're going to have the best day! You'll forget all about your problems," Phil said enthusiastically. I couldn't help but smile at his infectious optimism. Maybe this was exactly what I needed.

We arrived at the place where the magic show was happening—an intimate theater with cozy seating. The marquee outside advertised 'The Amazing Mysto's Magical Extravaganza!' in bold, colorful letters.

"You are going to love this, Daniel. Mysto is a legend," Phil said, leading me inside.

We found our seats near the front, and as the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the audience. The magician, Mysto, began with a flourish, pulling a bouquet of flowers from thin air. I watched, momentarily distracted from my worries. Phil leaned over and whispered, "Classic sleight of hand. He's hiding them up his sleeve."

As the show continued, Mysto performed increasingly elaborate tricks. He made an assistant disappear from a box only to reappear at the back of the theater, conjured a rabbit from a hat, and performed a daring escape from a straitjacket. Each time, Phil provided commentary. I found myself getting caught up in the excitement, laughing and clapping along with the rest of the audience. By the time the final trick rolled around—a grand illusion where Mysto levitated in mid-air—I was fully immersed.

After the show, we walked down the street to a quaint ice cream parlor Phil was familiar with. We ordered our favorites—regular chocolate for me and rocky road for Phil—and found a small table by the window.

"That was pretty amazing," I said between bites. "I needed that."

Phil's eyes lit up. "I'm glad you enjoyed it! Magic is a big part of my life. Did you know I'm a magician too? I used to perform all the time."

"No way," I said, genuinely surprised. "You'll have to show me some of your tricks sometime."

"Absolutely," Phil said with a grin. We spent the next hour chatting about the magic show and Phil's experiences as a magician. Phil shared stories of his favorite tricks, his biggest goof-ups, and the joy of seeing people's reactions. I found myself laughing and relaxing, the weight of my earlier worries lifting.

As the sun began to set, Phil dropped me off at my car. "Thanks, Phil, for helping take my mind off things," I said, feeling genuinely grateful.

"Hey, that's what I do," Phil replied, giving me a friendly pat on the back. "Take it easy, D-Dog. And come by the house. I'll show you my magic tricks."

I smiled. "I will. Thanks again, Phil."

"Anytime, buddy," Phil said with a wave as he drove off, leaving me standing by my car, feeling lighter and more hopeful than I had in a while. 

I turned to get in my car only to see a large poster for the movie Final Destination near it. The image of characters narrowly escaping death stared back at me, almost mockingly.

"Oh, come on," I muttered to myself. "What are you trying to tell me, universe?" I glanced up at the sky, half expecting an answer, but of course, there was none. I got in my car and drove home, wanting to put the matter all behind me.

.

.

.

I woke up from the best night's sleep I'd had in a while, feeling more relaxed and clear-headed than I had in days. Realizing how silly it was to be fixated on something beyond my control, I resolved to move forward.

Getting off my bed, I checked my phone on my way downstairs. There were a ton of messages from John, Matt, Lucia, Joanne, Lucy, Chris, and even Julie, all asking if I was alright and if something was wrong.

"What the hell," I muttered, scrolling through the concerned messages.

Reaching the dining table, I saw Mom, Nathan, and Alice having breakfast. Mom noticed me and came over, worry etched on her face.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, I am," I replied.

"Well, the media doesn't see it that way," she said, handing me a popular tabloid. "Lucy left it here a while ago. She came here to check up on you" she added. 

On the front page was a photo of me from the park, eating a burrito. I looked disheveled, sad, and like I'd been through the wringer. The headline read: Sad Adler - The teen author and producer looked devastated in recent photos.

"What the hell," I repeated, now more confused.

I quickly checked social media and saw that 'Sad Adler' was trending. There were countless comments about my appearance in the photos.

@GossipGuru: Looks like Daniel Adler is going through something rough. Breakup? Family issues? #SadAdler

@HollHawk: Why does Daniel Adler look so devastated in those recent photos? #SadAdler #WhatsGoingOn

@MsryMaven: Maybe Daniel Adler is just tired? Everyone has rough days. Let's not jump to conclusions. #SadAdler

@HeartOnMySleeve: Seeing #SadAdler makes me want to send a big hug his way. Stay strong, Daniel! 💖

There were some funny memes as well.

Caption: When you realize you have to adult every single day for the rest of your life.

Caption: When you remember it's Monday tomorrow.

"Fuck, I became a meme again," I muttered, but then I laughed—a genuine, hearty laugh. The absurdity of it all was just too much.

"Daniel," Mom called, bringing me back to the present.

I looked up at her, and she placed her hand on my face, worry still evident in her eyes. "Is everything alright?" she asked softly.

"Yeah, Mom, everything is fine," I replied, smiling at her. And for the first time in days, I really meant it.

.

.

Using this chapter to wrap up the death of mary plotline from many chapters ago.

Also got some bonding time with phil.

Sad Adler is the Sad Keanu meme of this world.


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