by V. F. Mason
“Shit!” Sam screamed, and I winced.
“I don’t think you are supposed to say that in a church.” She gave me the ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look and franticly dialed some number on her phone.
“Who are you calling?” Ariel asked and bit on her thumb, something she always did when she was nervous.
“Dylan, he’s not our head of security for nothing. I want him to tail her.”
“I don’t really think it’s a good idea,” Ariel started, but Sam just raised her hand.
“She is not in a normal state of mind. I’d rather have her pissed at me, but know she is okay.” It was hard to argue with that.
Once she finished her conversation with Dylan, we stood silently, none of us knowing what to do.
None of us had dealt with loss before; well, actually, Sam did. Her sister died thirteen years ago from drug addiction, but she never talked about it much. But Nick was our first loss as the unit we were.
“I don’t think we can help here,” Ariel muttered and rested her back against the brick wall. She looked sad.
“We can be there for her,” Sam replied stubbornly, but she had fear in her eyes. She kneeled down, resting her hands on her bent knees.
“I think she needs time to be alone. Nick was a big part of her life. Hell, of all our lives. The pain will never go away,” I said, and my voice trembled. I quickly swept away the tear that slid down my cheek. It was impossible not to remember Nick, his smiles, and the amazing person he was.
For those words, there was no reply, and it was ironic that on such a beautiful day with sunlight, birds chipping, and the grass so green, such a sad moment happened.
We didn’t know it yet, but it was the beginning of the disaster.
One year and four months after Las Vegas
“She’s not doing well, Jane.” Ariel was worried as she took our food takeout bag from the coffee shop and we slowly made our way back inside the studio, where Sam and Bella were left to talk.
We had a new album coming out and we needed to record it, although Jer and us girls wanted to take a break for Bella’s sake. She was our lead singer and had this tragedy in her life, but she refused. Dylan had tailed her the day of the funeral and said she met some guy at a bar and then went home. Later, she called us and apologized for her behavior, although we told her she had nothing to apologize for.
She showed up after a day or two, and we fell into a kind of routine. We would practice, record, and then she would go home. She didn't want to hang around; she didn't want us to come to her house. She even ignored Megan. She lost weight and was constantly tired, but since she did everything asked of her, it was hard to tell her anything.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I feel like we are missing something. She has this fear in her eyes that kills me.” Ariel had a point there; we never had secrets in the band, but it seemed Bella was hiding something.
But getting close to her was dangerous, she could completely loose her shit, and no one wanted that.
“Maybe Sam can convince her to move in with us.” Ariel’s voice was hopeful, but I just shook my head.
“She didn't like renting the same space back in our poor musicians’ days. You really think she would want to do it now?”
“So what now? We do nothing, as usual?” She sounded angry; sometimes it was hard to reason with Ariel and Sam.
“All I’m saying is we can’t help her if she doesn’t want our help.”
“Nick wanted to propose to Megan, you know. He showed the ring to Bella a few days before the accident. The wedding would have been beautiful,” she whispered, and one single tear rolled down her cheek. I was glad for the sunglasses I was wearing, because the same happened to me. I didn't like crying in front of anyone.
Those two were made for each other. When I used to see them together, it was hard not to be jealous of their love. It makes sense the next step for them would have been marriage.
Marriage.
Which brought me to another fact. I was still married; the situation hadn’t been fixed.
We had no contact, no conversations, and I had no clue how he was doing. At first, I thought about sleeping with someone, but I couldn't do it. I wasn't interested in anyone else, and the idea of having sex with anyone but him disgusted me and left me cold.
Sometimes, I wondered about Drake. Had he found someone else with whom he shared moments like we did? Was there a woman who helped him forget me or that he was married? Was that the reason for his silence?
Thoughts like those made my heart clench painfully, which was stupid and unfair. I was the one who pushed him away, so I had no say in what he was doing.
Now Nick and Megan…they had a beautiful love, and life was cruel to them.
Unfair.
“Yeah, Ariel. It would have been beautiful.” My whisper was barely heard in the busy city, but Ariel squeezed my hand, and I knew she understood.
One year and nine months after Las Vegas
“I don’t like how she looks, how she dresses, and that she has closed off from us completely. This fucking ends today.” Jer dragged us all to the car and we sat inside as he ordered the driver to go to Bella’s house.
Five more months had passed, and Bella was slowly fading away. She was a shell of herself, and no matter how much we tried to help her, she wouldn’t let us. Jer finally had enough and decided to give her an unexpected visit.
After Nick’s death, she bought a huge-ass house in the suburbs for some reason and stayed there mostly. It was a weird decision, considering how much she loved her penthouse, but we all took it as part of a grieving stage. Maybe, as harsh as it sounded, she needed some place where Nick hadn't been.
During the drive to her house, Sam worriedly tapped her foot and Ariel tapped with her hand. I studied Jeremy, who had a worried and pissed off expression. He was Nick’s friend; he probably felt more responsible for Bella now than ever. He had dark circles under his eyes, a five o'clock shadow, and his hands kept on clenching and unclenching on his lap.
I wanted to soothe him like a true friend would, and it made me stop to think. Was it love or attraction? He was a handsome man, but the attraction itself was gone, and it bothered me.
He was still my hero, right? Even if the belief in love was gone, shouldn’t I have had some feelings left?
All those thoughts bothered me, because I had no answers for them.
Finally, the car stopped, and we got out and frowned.
The lights were on; loud music was coming out of the house, and several cars were parked outside, none of which belonged to Bella. The door was wide open, and some guy was making his way outside, laughing hysterically.
Jeremy, the girls, and I quickly made our way into the house. We all froze at the nightmarish sight in front of us.
People were all over the place, smoking, fucking, and drinking. The house was a mess. Trash was everywhere. This looked like some kind of after party. The smells were disgusting, making my nose twitch.
In the center of it all, we saw Logan on the couch, drinking whiskey from a bottle while a girl gave him a lap dance, but it was doubtful he even saw her at all. His eyes were glassy and his expression was bored. When she stopped for a second to take a sip from her own bottle, he slapped her, which made her giggle, and she continued what she was doing.
He was thin and nothing like the legend he used to be. Ariel stared at him in shock with a closed hand over her mouth.
She worshiped this guy for his legendary keyboard skills, and once had his posters all over her dorm room.
In a second, Jer was on him. He pushed the girl aside, which resulted in her landing on her ass beside Logan on the couch. Jer grabbed Logan by the collar and shook him hard.
“Where is Bella?” Logan tried to move Jeremy back from him, but his strength was nothing compared to Jer’s.
“Why the fuck should I know?” he slurred.
“Because you are in her fucking house.” Logan laughed,
and it sent shivers down my spine and not in a good way.
“Yeah, she invited me herself. I think she could be upstairs. Now if you don’t mind, man, I have a girl here who needs my attention.” He winked to the lap dancer who moved closer to give him a kiss, but he pushed her away.
With a disgusted expression, Jer let him go. We all followed Jer upstairs to Bella’s room. When we got there, Jer swiftly opened the door with so much power it slammed loudly into the wall. And we saw Bella.
She was sitting alone on the bed, curtains closed, and holding a small paper with some kind of substance inside.
Then it all made sense.
Drugs.
She was using, which would explain everything she had done so far, and why she never wanted us to come over. The one time we did, everything was okay, because she was prepared.
God, this was a mess.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jer’s roar was loud and made all of us flinch, while Bella covered her ears. He went closer and tried to take the drugs away from her, but she fought him and ran to the corner of the room where she looked at us like a deer caught in headlights.
She was thin, her hair lifeless, her eyes glassy, and she was wearing some baggy shirt and sweat pants, and she smelled.
“No, don’t touch me!” she screamed when he tried to make a move for her. Her voice was hoarse, and it probably hurt to speak. “You can’t take it away from me.” She had no fear in her eyes.
“Bella, you’re fucking using, and you want me to let you go on with it?” Jeremy’s voice was filled with anger and sadness at the same time.
“No, I’m not using!” Her words meant nothing, given the fact it was clear as day what was happening here.
“Then what the fuck do you call all this shit?”
“Jeremy!” I raised my voice, because the way he spoke to her worried me. The last thing she needed right now was for him to lose his temper.
The sight wasn't pretty.
“No. Have you seen the house? And those people? You told me she was fine, that I shouldn’t interfere and let her grieve. Did any of you know about this?” He looked at us, and his expression was livid.
“Jeremy, back the fuck down. You think if we knew about this, we would let her be?” Sam was furious. This situation would be the worst for her to handle. We promised her we would never use drugs back before our fame days.
“I don’t know what to think. It’s probably been going on for months. The drugs explain all the shit that went on with her.” He covered his eyes with his hand and pinched them.
“We didn’t know, Jer,” Ariel said, and my girl was depressed. No wonder, she probably felt guilty for not making all those trips to Bella’s house when she wanted to.
This wasn't doing us any good, so I took a deep breath and asked probably the most important question. “Why, Bella? Why did you do it? Why didn’t you come to us for help? We would have been there for you, all of us.”
“Because I see him.” She was almost in a trance.
“Who?” My voice was confused.
“Nicky. With it, I can see him every night and talk to him. None of you could give me that.”
Silence filled the room, and the only sounds came from the party downstairs.
“Dear God,” Ariel said and made a move for Bella, but was stopped by Sam’s arm.
“No.” Sam’s voice was firm, and she had this ‘don't fuck with me’ expression on her face. She then focused her attention on Jeremy.
“We need to take her to a rehabilitation center before the press gets wind of this. It’s a miracle she was able to keep it quiet as it is. Find something, and create a story. I don’t give a shit what you come up with.” She then gestured to the door. “Let’s go shutdown that party and call housekeeping. The place is as big a mess as its owner.”
As much as I understood her anger at Bella, maybe the best course of action wasn’t to be harsh with her.
“Sam, don’t you think—”
She raised her hand and didn't let me finish. “No, I don’t. We need to make sure no one knows about this. Jeremy, take her to a center. She’s a fucking druggie, and that’s where she should stay.”
Although I didn't agree with her methods, she was right that Bella needed help and we couldn't allow this to get any media coverage. We loved her, but we loved what we did as well. We couldn't have Bella’s actions smear our reputation.
We had to protect her and the band. With one last glance at her, we left the room to fix the mess downstairs.
“Sam,” Ariel started, but Sam shook her head.
“Not now,” Sam snapped. “Let’s get those fuckers out of her house and clean it up. I hope Jer can find help for that fucking addict upstairs.”
Ariel and I shared a look, but said nothing. For the first time, our band was facing a big problem and I wasn't sure we could survive it. And that thought was scary.
This made me wonder what would happen to me if my secret marriage came to light.
Over the next two hours, we got rid of the people, semi-cleaned the place, and Jeremy made arrangements for Logan and Bella. Ariel begged him to help the dude, but I personally saw no hope in him. Not that she was crushing on him, far from it. But she felt some kind of obligation to him and I had no idea why.
We didn't talk much that night anyway.
Bella was taken away, and Sam left without saying goodbye. Ariel tried to find good care for Logan, and I tried to understand what went so wrong with our friendship that Bella didn't trust us enough to share her burden.
But then, I didn't share with them either.
What happened to us?
Drake
The annoying ringing of my phone woke me up, but in my profession, you never knew when somebody needed help, so ignoring it was out of the question.
I turned on the nightstand lamp, grabbed my phone, and to my surprise and shock ‘Ryan calling’ showed up on the display.
“Hello?” My voice was raspy from sleep.
“Drake.” His voice was low, and a bit lost.
“Yeah?”
“Sorry to wake you up.” By the tone of his voice, I doubted it was true.
“It’s okay. What happened? Is it Dad?” My father lived with Ryan’s mom now, and therefore, he had more contact with him. Not that my dad and I were at odds with each other, but some hard feelings still existed on my side about how much he used my mom all those years and then dropped her like a hot potato.
But after meeting Jane, I understood that no matter how much you try, if the woman was not the one, you could do nothing to make you feel as if she was.
I should know.
Not that I had any contact with Jane. She refused to see me, and I still refused to sign the papers.
Someone had to give in, because this was crazy. I had a wife, but she wasn't with me, and this dry spell was killing me.
But unfortunately for my dick, only she would do, and I didn't even try hooking up with anyone. I would never cheat on my wife, even if what we had was only on paper. Instead, I gave it all to work, and since the business and practice were thriving, I figured it wasn't so bad either.
“No, man. Dad is fine. He’s in Hawaii with Mom.” I calmed a bit at that. “I’m calling to ask for a personal favor.” That was something new, and I took a sip from the bottle of water to clear my throat. Ryan Nathaniel Jackson asking me for help? The world must have come to an end.
“I had no idea we did that for each other.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, well I figured we could start now.”
Bullshit, there had to be a reason he would seek my help. “Tell me the truth, Ryan.”
“My best friend died seven months ago.” This was the last thing I expected to hear.
“Shit, man. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “He had a sister, and she started using drugs after that. We just found out, and I’m making a team to help her come back to us. She would have treatment at my ranch:
doctors, nurses, and well, I think she needs a psychologist.” There was nothing to think about here. All problems started in the head and then made us react in certain ways. The girl experienced exceptional trauma and tragedy; she would need all the help she could get.
“Okay then. I’ll find someone good and let you know.”
“No.” His voice was angry.
“What do you mean no? Didn't you call for this?”
“No, I want you to take her case.”
The bottle stopped midair to my mouth, as I was about to take another sip. “Ryan, as I understand it, you’re taking her to your ranch. You expect me to leave everything for one patient?”
“Yes. Look, it’s not as if she will keep you here all the time, and you have a private plane at your disposal anytime you need it. I need the best for her, Drake. And you’re the best,” he said through gritted teeth. This was probably hard to admit.
My brother wasn't telling me everything though. His friend’s sister? I fucking bet she was more to him.
For the first time, he was asking me for help.
I couldn't say no, because I already had a soft spot for that poor girl who lost her brother and, as a result, herself.
“Okay, I’ll make arrangements and rearrange my schedule. I won’t leave my patients hanging.” A warning was in my voice. I didn't need him giving me shit for this.
“I understand. And it’s stupid to say it to you, but you can’t talk about it with anyone.” This shit was getting insulting, and somehow, with the lack of sleep and three a.m. morning calls, I was pissed off big time.
“Ryan, I’m a psychologist. We don’t share about our patients’ care, no matter who it is.” Silence came from the other end of the line, but he finally spoke up.
“Sorry, man. She’s a rock star, though, and she doesn’t need it to come out. So make sure no one in your office knows anything.”
His words made me pause. “Rock star?”
“Yeah, the lead singer of Hard World. Her name is Annabella Hastings. Anyway, I’ll send you all the details you need and call again okay?”
“Sure.” And with that last word, he hung up, and I stood there struck dumb.