by ML Hamilton
James’ eyes narrowed. “Are you hung-over?”
That was as good an excuse as any. “Yeah, so stop shouting.”
“When did you go out?”
Joshua sighed and pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead. “James, can we not do the stupid question and answer thing right now?”
James pushed on the door. “Let me in.”
“No,” said Joshua, pushing back. “What the hell do you want?” He was as surprised as James by his surly tone. He never talked to his older brother this way, but he felt so damn bad, hurt so damn much.
“You’ve got a woman in there?”
Puritanical James, the virgin brother, he thought uncharitably. “Yeah, now leave it alone.”
James’ face clouded over and his jaw clenched. “You’ve got half an hour to get your ass downstairs. Evan will have the car outside the lobby to take us to the recording studio.”
“Fine. That gives me enough time to shower.” He started to shut the door.
James blocked it. “Josh?”
Joshua blinked at him through blurry eyes. “What?”
“You know this isn’t right. All these women, the booze. You’re only nineteen, damn it. You’re too young for this.”
“James, I’m not a priest like you, so back off.”
“You’re going to get a disease. What if you become an alcoholic?”
Joshua almost laughed. That would be an improvement, he thought. “I’m fine,” he said instead. “Now, let me get a shower.”
James didn’t answer, but he let Joshua close the door. Joshua threw the bolt and turned, surveying the naked woman. He didn’t even know her name. Walking to the end of the bed, he kicked the mattress. She groaned.
“Get up,” he ordered. “You’ve got to leave.”
She rolled over and looked at him. Her makeup was smeared and her hair was matted. “Why?”
Joshua clenched his jaw. “Just get up.”
She swore at him, then climbed off the bed. She kept up a steady stream of profanity as she searched the room for her clothes. Joshua sank down on the end of the bed and watched her, his forearms braced on his thighs.
She finished dressing, then came up to him and kissed him. “You’ve got it bad, baby,” she said and looked pointedly at his arms. Joshua didn’t try hide the track marks from her, he didn’t care. She clucked her tongue and ruffled his hair, then walked to the door and let herself out.
Joshua forced himself to his feet and followed her, locking the door. Then he went to the closet and searched through his suitcase. His hands shook as he located the syringe. Taking it and the vial of liquid back to the bed, he primed the syringe, then located a vein. The needle made his whole arm ache as he inserted it into the vein, but the drug immediately soothed the pain as it flushed over his body. He closed his eyes and tilted back his head, letting it ease away the ache of withdrawal.
* * *
James stilled his fingers on the strings and looked up at his brother. Joshua had his eyes closed and was swaying with the fading music. James released his held breath. Hung-over or not, Joshua was a genius, putting such soul and emotion into their songs. He transported them from mediocrity to art.
“Great, boys. Take a break, then we’ll start on the next one,” came the tin voice through the speaker.
James looked up to the glass enclosed control booth. “Can you play that last one back for us before we go on? I want to make sure it’s coming together like we think it is.”
There was a hesitation. James touched his headset to make sure he hadn’t missed the answer.
“Yeah,” came the response. “Understand that this isn’t the final cut. We’ll clean up the edges and overlay more vocals on it. When it’s finished, it’ll sound like a choir, rather than four guys doing the harmony.”
Joshua’s eyes snapped open and he swiveled in his seat to pin his brother with a look.
“What do you mean?” asked James, holding Joshua’s gaze. Something was worrying him about his brother and it wasn’t just the strange women.
“Here, this is just a sample, but we’ll clean it up before it goes on the CD.”
James was distracted by the tinny, fuzzy sound that came over the speakers. They’d even pitched Joshua’s voice higher, smoothing out the raspy blues quality he could affect so well.
Joshua threw off his headset and came to his feet. “What the hell is that?” he demanded, rounding on his brother. “That isn’t our sound. That isn’t even my voice.”
James could only shake his head in dismay. He didn’t know what more to say.
“Is there a problem?” came the voice through the headset.
“Yeah, that isn’t us.”
“It is – we’ve just made it commercial. The harmony will be even better with eight voices instead of four.”
“How are we going to play that in concert?” said James. He could see the other two band members were as upset as Joshua.
“We’ll worry about the concert later. Right now we’re just trying to sell the CD.”
James shrugged at Joshua. “They say it’s more commercial.”
Joshua’s eyes widened and James noticed they were bloodshot. “Commercial? What the hell does that mean?”
“Just a minute, Josh,” James placated.
“No! Forget it. Tell them to go to hell. They’re not using my music like this. Screw them!”
“Is there a problem, James? We need to get going on the next song…”
“Just a minute,” said James, rising to his feet and holding up a hand to stop his brother’s pacing. “Josh, they want to start the next song.”
Joshua whirled on him and James never remembered seeing his face contort in such rage. “No! I won’t do another song for these bastards. Tell them to f…”
“Josh!” shouted James.
“You’d better get control of him, James. He doesn’t have a choice. We have a contract,” came the voice in the headset.
“I’m trying,” James shouted at the window. He reached for his brother. “Josh, calm down!”
Joshua flinched and yanked out of his hold. “I’m done,” he said and turned on his heel, storming for the door.
“James, this is a lawsuit waiting to happen,” warned the voice.
James stared at the door, but he knew Joshua well enough to know he wasn’t coming back. When he made a decision, it was final and nothing changed his mind. The music was sacred to Joshua, and no amount of money or threat was going to make him change that belief.
James turned and looked at Evan. Evan settled his bass on the stand and draped an arm over his thigh. “You know Josh is right, James. They butchered our song. Is the money worth that? Shit, they made your brother sound like a eunuch.”
James pulled off the headset. “They say they’ll sue.”
“Let them. We ain’t got nothing and if we don’t give them any more of our songs, neither do they. They’re already into this so far, I don’t think they want to pull out now. Call their bluff.”
“You sure?”
Evan nodded. James turned to the drummer. Ben also gave him a nod. James could feel his dream falling apart, but they were right. If that sound was commercial, he didn’t want any part of it.
Looking at the window, he said, “We quit.”
* * *
Banging woke Joshua later that afternoon. He groaned and rolled out of bed, but his body still felt blessedly numb. Too bad he was so sleepy lately that he slept away most of his high.
He pulled open the door and looked out. James was standing there, but his smile dried to a look of concern.
“Are you sick?”
“Sick of you waking me up all the time. What is it?”
James lifted an eyebrow at his surly tone, but Joshua didn’t have the energy to amend it.
“The studio just called.”
Joshua sighed, then moved back, opening the door so his brother could enter. He was glad he’d remembered to lay down fully clothed this time.
James strolled into the room and looked around, as if he half expected to see a woman. Joshua dropped into the armchair beside the dresser and blinked up at his brother sleepily.
James turned to face him. “They want us to come down.”
“No,” said Joshua.
James hunkered down in front of him. His smile stretched across his whole face. “Really, when they’ve agreed to do everything your way?”
Joshua studied his brother’s expression. He didn’t really care about this deal, but it meant the world to his brother. With a weary exhalation, Joshua capitulated. “That’s what they said?”
“More. They put it in writing.” James removed a fax from his pocket and held it out.
Joshua knew his vision was too blurry to read it. “Just tell me what it says.”
“You have full creative control, little brother. You and no one else.”
Joshua looked away. He was so damn tired. He didn’t want to go back into that studio, but he couldn’t deny that the chance to lay down the tracks his way was intoxicating.
“Fine, but if they change one thing…”
“All right, all right,” said James, holding up a hand. “Not one thing.”
* * *
“That’s a wrap,” came the voice in the headset.
James set down the guitar and turned to smile at Evan. The bassist smiled back, but his eyes shifted to Joshua.
“You’re a royal pain in the ass, Ravensong,” came the voice again, “but you’re also freakin’ brilliant.”
Joshua exhaled and removed his own headset, draping it over the microphone stand. He climbed off the stool, his arm wrapped around his ribs, and shot a look at his brother.
“I’m going back to the hotel.”
James’ smile dried. “Okay. You got the flu or something?”
Joshua’s eyes drifted to Evan, then back. “Probably. I just need some sleep.”
James nodded, but a knot was forming in his throat. Joshua had belted out the songs with such energy and feeling that James hadn’t realized how sick he looked or how pale his skin was.
He watched him walk out the door, unaware that the voice was talking to him in the headset again. “James?”
“Yeah,” he said, blinking up at the glass wall.
“Pack up your gear and then come into the sound booth. I’ll let you hear what we laid down.”
James nodded and removed the headset. He knelt and began packing up his guitar.
“James?”
James stared at Evan’s boots for a moment before looking up into his face.
“James, we gotta talk.”
James realized he was gripping the guitar until his knuckles were white. He released it and rose to his feet to face the bassist. “What?”
“James, Joshua’s got a problem,” he said seriously.
“Yeah, he said he has the flu.”
Evan shook his head. “No, he didn’t. You supplied that excuse. You’ve supplied all the excuses lately.”
“What are you saying, Evan?”
Evan looked miserable. “James, he’s high all of the time. Can’t you see that?”
The knot tightened. James felt like he was going to be sick. His eyes moved to Ben, but the drummer just looked down. Sinking onto the stool, James clasped his hands in his lap.
“The signs have been there, James. He keeps disappearing into the bathroom. He has violent mood swings. He hardly eats anything. All he wants to do is sleep.”
James realized he was breathing too fast. He didn’t know what to say. Panic was edging out reason in his mind. He’d seen the signs, somewhere inside he’d known what they meant, but he’d denied it. He’d wanted this record deal so bad, he’d let Joshua slip away.
Swinging away from Evan, he ran to the door and threw it open. Slamming into the bathroom, he shouted Joshua’s name, but it was empty. He fled the studio then, hailing a taxi on the street.
The ride from the studio to the hotel only took ten minutes, but James thought he was going to crawl out of his skin before it was over. He took out his cell phone and dialed Joshua’s number, but it kept shifting to his answering service. He dialed his parents’ number, but stopped it just before the call went through.
When the taxi came to a halt before the hotel, he threw the money over the seat and vaulted out of the back, tearing into the hotel at a run. The ride up the elevator had him pacing across the back wall.
He banged frantically on Joshua’s door, but got no answer. He took out his cell phone again and punched in his parents’ number, but he disconnected before the first ring. Heading to the stairs, he took them two at a time until he exited into the lobby. He would force them to open Joshua’ room if he had to.
As soon as he was at the front desk, he realized he hadn’t checked the rest of the hotel. Joshua often went to the bar to listen to music. James ducked inside and searched each booth, looking for his brother, but Joshua wasn’t there.
He moved back into the lobby, prepared to demand they open Joshua’s room, but on a hunch, he headed for the door leading to the pool. He found Joshua sitting in a lounge chair, staring at the water.
James stood in the dark and watched him. His throat felt so tight, he thought he might suffocate. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Closing his eyes, he forced himself to swallow. He had, he’d just wanted to ignore it, hadn’t wanted to believe his brother could go down such a path.
He moved closer, but Joshua didn’t acknowledge him. “Josh?”
Joshua blinked, then looked up. Even in the low light of the torches, James could see his pupils were dilated.
“Josh, let’s go home,” he said softly.
Joshua frowned. “What?”
“I want to go home, tonight. Please.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Joshua demanded.
James drew a deep breath, then exhaled. “You’re on something, aren’t you? Right now. You’re high. Evan was right.”
Joshua recoiled, but he didn’t answer.
“What is it, Josh? Coke, crack?”
Joshua pushed himself to his feet and moved closer to his brother. “Stay out of my life, James,” he said, the same rage simmering in his face.
“How could you let this happen, Josh? How could you get involved in something like this? Shit, you’re only nineteen.”
“Leave it alone, James.”
James shook his head. “No, we’re going home. Tonight. Dad will know what to do. We’ll get you help.” He placed his hands on his brother’s shoulders.
Joshua shrugged them off. “I don’t want help and I’m not going home. What I want is for all of you to leave me the hell alone.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Shit, James, you’re suffocating me. I can’t do anything without you watching over my shoulder.”
“What is it you want to do? Bed a different woman each night, get high? Look at you, you’re half sick, Joshua. You can’t keep going on like this.”
“You don’t know anything about it.”
“No, look at your hands. Look at how they shake. Is that normal, Josh?”
“Shut up!” he shouted.
“You’re coming home. You don’t have any other choice. We’re going now.”
“No, I’m not.”
“I mean it, Josh. I’m not kidding. We’re going tonight. Don’t make me force you.”
Joshua’s head lifted. “Force me? How, James? You gonna knocked me unconscious, give me a concussion – maybe break some ribs?”
James stared at his brother in misery. “No, Josh, I’m not Ray.”
“Then stop threatening me. And leave me the hell alone.” He brushed by his brother and headed for the hotel.
James whirled around, not sure what he was going to do and found Evan and Ben standing in the shadows. Joshua stopped when he came abreast of Evan.
“Thanks for nothing,” he snarled, then started to walk on.
“Josh!” said Evan. He grabbed Joshua’s elbow and pulled him back.
Joshua sucked in a breath and yanked his arm out of Evan’s hold, cradling it against his body. They were all stunned by his behavior and did nothing as he continued walking, disappearing inside.
Finally Evan turned to James. “What are you going to do?”
James shook his head, then stopped. There was only one thing he could do. “I’m going home,” he said.
* * *
The phone started ringing just as Joshua positioned the needle above his vein. He glanced at it on the nightstand, then concentrated on the syringe. The pain was worse this time, his veins so constricted by the constant punishment, but a moment later, the warm flush of the drug soothed away the ache. Still the phone continued to ring.
He was sitting on the floor with his back to the bed. Reaching up, he grabbed the phone off the nightstand, hissing as the movement caused a flare of pain. Snapping open the cover, he put it to his ear.
“Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes as the feeling of oblivion spread through him.
“Joshua, is that you?”
Joshua’s eyes opened a slit and he stared at his arm. A line ran up his inner elbow, swollen and angry looking. “Adam?”
He could hear Adam exhale. “Joshua, your mother needs you to come home.”
Joshua’s hand tightened on the phone and his heart picked up speed. “What’s wrong with Mom?”
“Listen, Joshua, I’ve ordered a taxi. It’s waiting outside your hotel. Just go downstairs and get in it. It’ll bring you here.”
“What’s wrong with Mom?” he said through gritted teeth. The pounding of his heart was ruining the mellow feeling of the drug.
“She needs you here, Joshua. Tonight. Go downstairs and get in the taxi. It’ll bring you here. I’ve already paid for it.”
Joshua struggled to his feet. The room tilted and swayed beneath him. “Tell me what the hell happened to my mother, Adam!” he shouted, gripping the phone in both hands.
“I’ll tell you when you get here. Just come home now. The taxi’s waiting.”
Joshua stared at the phone. Some small part, not drowned by the drug, whispered that something was very wrong, but the thought of his mother needing him was greater than any warning. He grabbed his keys off the dresser and bolted out the door, slamming it behind him.
He didn’t wait for the elevator, but tore down the stairs and into the lobby. He skidded to a halt just outside the hotel doors, staring at the taxi waiting for him. It would be too slow and he needed to get home as fast as he could.