Travis wasn’t surprised. The minute he left Stewart’s office, he had known it would only be a matter of time before the media would be crawling all over his decision to leave the game. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Stewart hadn’t been the one to call them himself. After all, negative publicity was still publicity. By the end of the week, Travis and Russ had managed to clear out all the closets and the majority of the kitchen, but they’d run out of boxes. Travis left his father at the apartment while he drove over to a packing supply store to get more. This meant dealing with the reporters and photographers who had been camped out in front of the building in a vain attempt to get him to bare his soul. He always felt bad for the other residents who lived in the complex; they’d never asked to be hounded for information every time they came and went. With another pile of boxes stacked up in the trunk of his car, he drove back to the parking garage and into his space, once again thankful for the privacy the concrete structure offered at times like these.
