Marc Love resented being a celebrity. But he was grateful that he was an unknown

celebrity

.

Had the world known him to be the Blue Man, there would be troops of speculators on 

reddit

commenting about his personal life. Love sat there smoking a cigarette, his ass on concrete thinking about this. He imagined being outed. Took a deep puff.

This was the first time he took an objective look at himself. Until this cigarette while sitting on this concrete, he had never had the space and openness to see himself for who he really was.

He was a shit husband. An even worse husband. And now he was hanging out with a ten year old kid, teaching him how to dance. If he were to make things right, he'd return to his 

family

. Apologize. Be okay with them not accepting him back.

But he wouldn't. He would continue to run. Continue to see the world crumble from the outside. Continue to use 

cash

and remain in the shadows.

Eventually he'd need to leave Sammy as well. When though? This was the first time he hadn't decided on a definitive date. Anytime before... he had set a date and stuck to it. Well anytime except for that one time. With Denver. And look what happened to him.

An image of Sammy trying to pull off a 720 spin move flashed across the back of his mind as the warm smoke grazed against his closed eyelids. He'd need to leave Sammy. End those lessons. He would leave eventually. Couldn't decide on a date yet. Maybe another cigarette would allow him to.