Life can be sweet when youâre a supermodel icon.
Sean Foster's life is like a fairytale. Leaving his North Dakota home, he travels the world with his wife and young daughter, on an adventure funded by his reality star mentor.
Itâs almost enough to make a guy forget about the chronic lung condition he has lived with since childhood. Cystic fibrosis has hung over his head like a dark cloud, and now, other dark omens have joined the party.
Thereâs a light at the end of the tunnel, but it will take love, compassion and faith in family to find it.
Life can be sweet when youâre a supermodel icon.
Sean Foster's life is like a fairytale. Leaving his North Dakota home, he travels the world with his wife and young daughter, on an adventure funded by his reality star mentor.
Itâs almost enough to make a guy forget about the chronic lung condition he has lived with since childhood. Cystic fibrosis has hung over his head like a dark cloud, and now, other dark omens have joined the party.
Thereâs a light at the end of the tunnel, but it will take love, compassion and faith in family to find it.
I gazed out at the Pacific Ocean from the Los Angeles boardwalk set of Electric Eagle Swimwearâs runway show. Rocking both long blond surfer hair and a PICC line, I am Sean Foster, cystic fibrosis warrior.
Me, a model. On a catwalk. I still hadnât gotten used to that.
As I did my walk in a metallic silver thong, body paint highlighting the beauty of my scars, I felt truly blessed. I did three walks, and at the end of the runway I stuck out my tongue. I had a small cheering section since the show was open to the public. Grinning, I rushed off stage for my costume change. London was waiting for me, dressed like a leather-clad punk ballerina. As ever, my best friend and mentor was the vision of cool. She wasnât above squealing, though.
 âYou were amazing!â
Still on a high, I couldnât help laughing as she threw her arms around me. My heart pounded against hers.
She looked up frowning. âYou okay?â
âNo matter how many times I do runway, it always feels like itâs going to burst out of my chest.â
Her serious glance got more serious.
âI said heart, not lungs. My mucus-filled lungs are on their best behavior.â
She chuckled. âGood to know. Câmon, get changed. I wonât be allowed to hang around the big star for moral support any more if I slow you up.â
For the final walk when the designer came out, followed by all the models, I decided to do something different. I paused longer then I should have, making a heart shape with my hands while looking directly at my fans. I tried to look west-coast sexy, all sleepy eyes and a stoic mouth, but the roar of applause made me crack a smile. As I made my way back to London, my smile turned to laughter.
âThat was fucking awesome.â
âDo you want to feel like even more of a superstar?â London shook a box of sharpies. âI always love signing autographs. Every fan makes it seem like itâs the greatest moment of their life.â
I had to agree. It was humbling.
After I got dressed, London walked with me into the crowd. She gave me a sly grin. âYou still enough of a sweet country boy for me to announce you as Dakota?â
I chuckled. âNot sure. Up to you.â
âOther way around, Sean. You donât have to attach yourself to where you came from if you donât want to. Youâre international. New start, and all that jazz.â
I had a fondness for the name sheâd given me. âItâs a brand now. Letâs go with it.â
âAttention,â London shouted, âDakota and I will be signing anything and everything for free. Donât give your money to those online pirates, people.â
Security had to intervene to get the dozens of people to form an orderly line. Over the next hour, I signed a good many things, from photos to signs to body parts. Girls and even some of the boys wanted hugs, kisses, or just to touch me. I took extra care to make eye contact with my fellow cystic fibrosis sufferers waiting in line, all shuffling nervously, all wearing their surgical masks, worn to make sure that none of us cross-contaminated with our own less-than-beloved infections and germs. The place looked like the scene of a huge flu epidemic. Since they seemed like theyâd be grateful to get the damn masks off as soon as possible, I tried to keep the line moving without rushing people.
At around six, I was still riding the high of the excitement from meeting my fans. London drove me back to the condo on the back of her motorcycle and pulled up at the same time as Saraâs truck.
My sister met me with a hug. âHow did it go?â
âAmazing as usual,â I said as we walked to the door of the luxury home owned by Londonâs sister. âIs everybody inside?â
âYeah, Johnny took the day off. He and Jen have been cooking all day while Mom watches the baby.â
âBaby?â I laughed. My daughter had turned three, so she wasnât exactly a baby. âSo, Johnny got the day off for your birthday?â
âOur birthday,â Sara said, eyebrow raised.
âThere goes my denial.â
âDeny being forty, not twenty.â She rolled her eyes. âAnyway, why so shocked? Johnnyâs been Litaâs apprentice for nearly two years. He can ask for the day off for his girlfriendâs birthday.â
I chose not to tease her about once asking his boss if he could have the day off when heâd only been working for her for a week or so. There had been a time sheâd been all over her boyfriend to the point it just got embarrassing. For everyone. Especially Johnny.
London stepped ahead of us and used her key. âSara, did you stop by the hospital on your lunch break?â
âNot today. Actually, I havenât seen Diego in weeks. Heâs out of the wards and into rehab now. His physical therapyâs going so well he might even be out of his wheelchair soon.â
I grinned. âYouâll be pleased to get your mentor back, looking like his old Benjamin Bratt self.â
 âYou would have to remind me about the crush, wouldnât you?â Sara rolled her eyes. âAnyway, heâs now shrapnel-free, and his medical team wasnât expecting him to be out of the hospital for another three months. Iâve never met anyone so determined.â
âSo, our favorite veteranâs turning back into a hard-ass. Iâm not sure thatâs what London had in mind when she funded his surgery, but if you get a kick out of itâŚâ
I laughed as Sara flipped me the bird. She loved my father-in-law for his brains, too, as she never failed to remind me.
Sara and I followed London into the apartment, and to a rather unique sight. Displayed on a projector screen was a single image: toddler Sara trying to kidnap my tiny self from our motherâs bed. I cringed; though the same age, Sara had inherited momâs robust build and personality, whereas I was the puny, sickly, blue-eyed adoptee. Sara had always been so good to me, though. It hadnât been so bad being treated like her pet until I was about five.
Mom was at the far wall of the den, wiping down the glass covering a poster-size photo of me taken at my very first shoot. As ever, she had her hair blonde hair tied up in a bun and was dressed like she was about to go to a deposition instead of a party. She looked around as we approached the projection screen and dumped the cleaning stuff on a nearby table.
 âHappy birthday, my babies!â she called, hurrying over on her heels. âI canât believe my little angels are twenty years old!â
âHey Mom, thanks for coming. Whereâs Shauna?â Iâd kind of expected to see my daughter by the door ready to greet me, like a hyper puppy.
âSheâs in the bedroom with Diego and Remy. I think theyâre trying to teach her Spanish.â
âThat sounds like fun. Iâll go check it out.â
Remy was Diegoâs boyfriend. Because when your controlling wife tries to poison you, itâs time to play for the other team.
Okay, maybe thatâs oversimplifying things.
But Jen had way more time for Remy than she did for her own mom. Heâd made her father happy for the first time in⌠well. Forever.
I found Diego and Remy on the bed either side of my daughter, helping to prop up the huge book on her lap. Remy sat patiently while Diego turned pages, read the words out loud, and listened to Shauna repeating them. Remy, with his long wavy black hair and his gentle eyes, still reminded me of a renegade prince from a Disney movie: the rogue who steals the damselâs heart. He looked almost young enough to be Jenâs brotherâprobably thanks in part to his holistic background and vegan dietâbut was actually less than ten years younger than my father-in-law. I had to admit the image of them as a nuclear family was kind of adorable. Maybe one day they would raise a child of their own together.
Diego turned another page over. âEl gato estĂĄ comiendo el desayuno.â
Shauna touched the image of the cat. âKitty is eating pancakes.â
âCats eat pancakes?â I asked.
Remy looked up. âWelcome home, Sean.â
Despite the bleaching influence of Californiaâs unforgiving sun, Shaunaâs dark hair seemed to be darkening by the month, getting closer to her momâs shade of dark chocolate. Even when squinting with determination as she crawled across Remy to reach me, her pale blue eyesâdefinitely my eyesâcaught the light in a way that made them look huge.
I scooped her up in my arms. âI miss you.â She wriggled in my arms while I watched Remy helping Diego back into his wheelchair. âSara said you went to physical therapy today?â
Remy grinned. âHeâs doing really well. Pretty soon he wonât even need me.â
Diego looked up at him. âThere will never come a day when I am without the need of the love and comfort of your beautiful soul.â
Remy blushed. âSean, have you had a chance to check in with Jen?â
I could tell they wanted me out of the room. âNot yet. After being around hot girls in swimwear all day, I was afraid Iâd be unable to control myself around my wife.â
Diego chuckled. âI gave her your present to give to you during the party. Itâs an old family heirloom. Youâll find her in the kitchen.â
âIâll be sure to check in.â With Shauna in my arms, I left for the kitchen, but jumped as I saw Camâs faint outline in the doorway of the guest room. Jenâs brother had been haunting me for nearly four damn years, but still hadnât lost the power to scare the crap out of me.
âUncle Cam!â Shauna shouted.
âShh...â the ghost reminded her. âCome into the room first⌠good girl.â He reached to ruffle her hair as I put her down on the floor. It was hard enough taking her weight already, let alone when she was bouncing round with excitement. Cam grinned. âYouâre so adorable. I hope I cross over before you get too old to see me.â
âIâll always see you!â Shauna gave a little pout like heâd insulted her, but then ran out back into the hallway, distracted by the smell of chocolate.
I waited for her to run over to Johnny before pulling the door of the guest bedroom shut. âHello, Cam. Are you here to wish me a happy birthday?â
âYou need to talk to my father about getting a divorce,â Cam said firmly. âYou cannot let him go back to North Dakota. Even with Remy by his side, my mother will find a way to get to him.â
âIâve tried! Whenever I bring up the subject, he shuts down. The last time I brought it up he had a seizure and I looked like an asshole.â I knew Cam was right, though. Suzanne was dangerous. Manipulative. If my wife tried to kill me, Iâd have no problem divorcing her, but that was not the case for Jenâs father.
âHe still loves her,â Cam added, sighing.
âI know. You donât think thatâs killing me? Killing Jen? But there are limits to what I can say to him.â Because I wasnât Diegoâs daughter, or his lover, or even his student, when I pushed too hard, all three of those people tended to gang up on me. âGive him time,â said one. âItâs too soon after his surgery,â said another. âDonât pressure my father.â âDonât talk about his wifeâit could cause a PTSD episode.â
What was I supposed to do?
âFrom what Iâve seen, youâre not exactly knocking yourself out.â
I glared at Cam. âAnd youâve been around to see that, have you?â
âAs much as possible.â
I homed in on his defensiveness. âNot all the time then, right? likewise, I canât be on his case twenty-four-seven.â I hauled the door open. âNow, Iâm going to see my wife. You can piss off.â
Cam disappeared in a puff of white smoke.
I went to the kitchen and crept up behind Jen, kissing her neck. âWhat smells so good?â
Jen smiled. âSpaghetti with meatballs made from scratch, and garlic bread.â
I could smell the garlic bread, alright. âCan I have a taste?â
âYou have to wait for the party,â she said sweetly. âAnd make sure you fill up on my dishes so I can show tattoo-boy whoâs the better cook.â
Johnny had vacated the kitchen, for now, having made cornbread muffins stuffed with chicken sausage, beef pot roast (with carrots, potatoes and plenty of garlic and chilies), and a flourless chocolate cake for dessert.
At the party, all the food was presented on a buffet table. Johnnyâs meal took up most of the space, but Jenâs turned out to be more popular among the small number of guests. With her ego boosted, I felt braver about trying Johnnyâs chocolate cake. I always had a weakness for chocolate. As a sick child, it was a food that forever brought me comfort.
âNot bad,â I said, taking the majority of it.
Shauna scowled as I tried to feed her a bite. âYucky.â
âShauna, itâs chocolate. You love chocolate and it was made with love by your Uncle Johnny.â
âJohnny!â she squealed with delight, finally accepting the bite.
He made the mistake of trying to relax on the sofa next to mom, a plate of food on his lap.
âDo you plan on making a living as a tattoo artist?â she asked, just as he had a mouth full of his stew.
âThat is so rude, Mom,â Sara snapped, before Johnny could reply.
âHe has a multitude of talents is all I meant,â Mom sniffed. âAmazing chef, artist, once a paramedicââ
âWell you were using your disapproval voice, like, âis that all you plan to do with your life, Mr. Desilva?â
âI did no such thing.â
As Mom got up, Sara took Johnnyâs plate of food and put it on the table next to her plate, freeing his lap to use as a footrest as she slumped down where Mom had been. He looked at his barely-touched plate like he was pining for it.
I couldnât help but chuckle.
The main reason Johnny was able to follow Sara out to California from North Dakota was his artistic talent landing him an apprenticeship at Sky Flower, Los Angelesâs most exclusive tattoo shop. Sara was setting whole new student standards at med school at UCLA. Close as they were, Sara and Johnny were living their lives on separate but parallel tracks. I hoped one day they would cross; they deserved to be as happy as I was.
I turned to Jen. âSo, what exactly is my gift?â She handed me a bible, written in Spanish. I hefted its bulky weight. The spine was like two inches deep. âYour dad gave me a paperweight.â
âBe polite, that book belonged to my grandfather.â
âDiegoâs dad?â
âMy father passed just after my son,â Diego explained as he helped himself to a plate of food. âI hoped my childhood bible would inspire discussion with my granddaughter.â
âWhat did you give Sara?â I asked, putting the bible on my lap.
Sara glared. âAre you for real?â
âI gave your sister a watch.â
âNot that itâs any of your business.â Sara raised her wrist, showing it off.â
âSeriouslyâ I have to learn Spanish, but Sara gets a gold watch?â I was of course joking, but my sister is a little slow on the uptake sometimes.
She tossed a small box at my head. âOpen my present.â
âOw, was that necessary?â
âItâs just a gift card, you baby.â
âThanks. Maybe Iâll buy some band aids with it.â I put the little box to one side and held the Bible in my hands. Suddenly it began to feel warm. I opened the book to a center page and watched as the ink morphed into a single sentence: there can be no light without darkness. I quickly closed the book. No light without darkness? Kind of morbid. ââWasnât that supposed to be  no darkness without light?
Camâs voice whispered in my ear. âLook around at all the happy faces. Itâs the calm before the storm.â
It took me a moment to gather my ability to speak to him, mind-to-mind. It was easy in a quiet place. In front of others, I kept nearly talking out loud. âYouâre wrong,â I insisted.
âAm I? My sister is happy. My father is in love. Johnny and Sara are on their own paths to success. And letâs not forgetâ youâre a star, right?â
I could feel the cold of his breath against my neck.
âWell, twinkle-twinkle, little starâŚwhile you still can.â
Let's start with the trigger warnings: This book has moments of abuse, drug use, heavy medical situations, and very weird relationships (that aren't incestual, but get way too weird for my liking).
Before you read this book and think that this is a book about modeling with cystic fibrosis, it really isnât. Yes, the book starts with Seanâs modeling adventures, but his rising career soon takes a turn for the worse. The story is really about Seanâs family and the relationships that ebb and flow as he reaches the end stages of his battle with cystic fibrosis. For that reason, the major villain in the book is time, and we find ourselves begging for time to give this family more. This book is also very heavy as we follow Sean through his disease.
 From the jump, we get introduced to a million characters. There were a lot of times where I sat staring trying to figure out who is who. Eventually, while I wonât say that the relationships make sense, they are a lot clearer as the book continues. And like I mentioned before, none of the relationships are incestuous, but the characters are way too interconnected for the number of flings that occur throughout the book.
One of the more unique elements of the book is the use of ghosts and the idea of guardian angels. Unlike many other books, the ghosts in this book are visible to many characters. As a reader, it is cool to see something used in a new way, but it is also really easy to feel like it was done wrong because it was new. I am currently in the middle of those two feelings, but I think the idea of the ghosts being guardians is genius.
I am giving this book 3 out of 5 stars, but that is mainly because I donât know what to give it. This book is so incredibly different than what I was expecting, and it definitely took me on a roller coaster, but Iâm not sure how I feel about it. Please check out this book and let me know what you think!