by Anna Brooks
“So, yeah. We’re glad to be home and we hope to see everyone at the concert tonight.” Mike starts to stand, Jamie and Gabe following. They’re clearly done with this asswipe.
Reed ignores them and continues glaring back at me. “I bet Meara tastes better with age.”
The chair slams into the wall and my fist collides with his jaw before my headphones rip off my head. Jamie pulls me back and a couple of people run into the already cramped studio. Music starts to play as another DJ switches from studio mics to the radio.
“What in the ever loving hell do you think you’re doing, Reed?” Grant, the station’s director, yells in his face.
“Fucking let me go, Jamie!” I yell.
“Dude, he’s not worth it.” He grips me harder and I use all the force I have and break free of his hold.
“Nobody fucking talks about her like that.” Adrenaline and fury pound through my veins and I reach out and just as I’m inches from Reed, all three of my bandmates grab me.
“Liam. Breathe.” Jamie stands directly in front of me and slaps the side of my face. “Focus, dude. He’s a prick.”
“Did you hear what he said?” I test Mike and Gabe’s strength, but they plant their feet so I can’t move. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
“No, you’re not. Then you’d be in jail and Meara would really be alone.” His voice lowers at the end and his eyes plead with me.
He’s right. Stupid fucker. “I’m outta here.” Mike and Gabe let me go and I elbow my way through the crowd of fans who were waiting in the lobby. The station broadcasts throughout the entire building, so everyone heard everything and have no problem getting out of my way.
Once I get to the bus, I throw my hat and pace up and down the small aisle. I punch the wall a few times, and when the force of it has the cupboard door flying open, I take it as a sign. I grab the bottle, slamming half of it before putting it back and shutting the door.
What the fuck was up with that guy? I think about what he said again, and go to storm back off the bus, but the door swings open and the guys come on followed by Grant.
“Liam, I am so sorry. I had no idea he was going to do that. You can be rest assured we will deal with him. What can I do to make it up to you? You know that’s not how I run things around here.”
“What can you do? You wanna know what you can do?” I advance on him and his Adam’s apple bobs up and down.
Mike steps in front of me and shakes his head. “We’ll be in touch, Grant. Probably best if you go, though.”
“I apologize, Liam. Please let me know if there is anything the station or I can do. I’ll be in contact with your manager.”
He turns and exits the bus as our driver hops on and asks if we’re ready to go.
“Yeah, get us the fuck out of here.”
“Dude.” Jamie shakes his head.
“What the fuck was that?” I yell.
“I have no clue. After you left, he just stood there with a smirk on his face. Idiot. Probably has a hard-on for you or some shit.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Fuck!”
“Lee, it’ll be all right,” Mike assures me.
I reach into the cabinet again and pour a red plastic cup over half full with vodka then add a splash of orange juice. I lift the cup in acknowledgment to the guys and go back to my bed.
Thank Christ our bunks are tall enough that I can sit up. I slam the entire cup and pull out my phone to call Meara but it goes to voicemail, so I leave a message. “Hey, I just got done with that interview, and the fucking DJ had it out for me for some reason, and he mentioned your name. I just want you to be careful and … shit. I’m sorry. Just be careful, all right. I’ll see you tonight.”
I shoot a text over to Pierce, just to let him know so he can alert the security at the pub. It’s not as if our fans don’t know about Meara. She’s been in a couple of videos and I have tons of pictures of us on my social media pages. When we’re back home, we hang out at Kelly’s. But the way he so blatantly brought her up like that worries me. It’s not as if we’re the most famous band in the world, but we have a big following and ... If she ever got hurt because of me, I would never forgive myself. It’s enough that I’m putting her through the emotional wringer; my work is not supposed to touch her in that way. It’s my job, my career, and there are some shitty things involved with it. I’ve managed to keep her shielded from that for seven years. I have one hundred and five days left then I’ll never have to worry about it again.
* * *
“Thank you, Chicago!” Mike screams one last time and drops the microphone. I chuck my sticks into the crowd and head to the back. The guys are stopped by some reporters, but I already told them that I was going back to the dressing room right away. Especially with what happened this afternoon, I have no desire to speak to any of them. Besides, Meara is here and I haven’t seen her yet. She called me when she got here and said she picked up the backstage pass. I know she’s stoked about the house, but she sounded overly excited. I shut the door behind me then go directly to the bathroom.
Thankfully, the bottle I left here before the show is still half full, so I slam some down and hang my head. Never in my life have I been high around her, and I know, I fuckin’ know I don’t need it with her here. But the line I did before the show has worn off. All fucking day I’ve been more on edge than usual and I don’t want my stress to ruin Meara’s excitement. Hoping that a quick fix will help, I stick my head outside the bathroom and make sure I’m alone, then I pull out a twisted up baggie and dump the contents onto the flat countertop.
Chapter 10
Meara
“HEY, GREAT SHOW!” I hug Jamie as I round the corner on my way to see Liam. He played a great set tonight, and I’m so happy right now, I feel like I’m walking on air.
“Thanks. You by yourself?”
“No, I came with Brandon and Mary.”
He quirks an eyebrow in confusion.
“Char’s husband, Travis. His brother is Brandon and his girlfriend, Mary.”
“Oh yeah, duh. Where are they?”
I knew he’d realize it when I linked them to Char. Our little group is expanding, and it’s awesome.
“They’re going out or something. This isn’t really their thing.” I point to the couple making out against the wall and laugh. “Ya know, Brandon being a cop and all.”
“Ahh, yes. So …” He leans against the wall. “What are you doing back here? Lee said you were meeting him on the bus.”
“Yeah, but I was fast so I thought maybe he’d still be in the dressing room.” I hold up the papers I ran out to my car to get. “I have the papers for him to sign. Just wait, Jamie! You’re going to love this house. I haven’t talked to your dad yet, but I’m hoping his construction company will be able to do all the remodeling. This house is amazing!” I can tell I’m yelling, but I don’t care. You’d think with my level of excitement that I’d taken speed before I came here. Even for me, I’m more happy than normal right now. I can't stop smiling and my jaw hurts from it.
“Meara,” Jamie whispers.
“What?”
“Just … nothing. I can walk you to the room if you wanna see if he’s still in there.”
“Jamie, what?” I don’t like the sadness that crosses over his face. He and Liam are a lot alike, and they can’t hide their emotions for shit.
“I’m just worried about him is all.” He grabs my hand and pulls me to the side, into a cubby where old pay phones used to be.
I look at him and swallow the knot in my throat. “He’s not …”
Jamie looks away and drops my hand.
“Fuck. No, no … no, Jamie. Is he?” He continues to stare at the floor, so I push his shoulder and force him to look at me. “Is he?”
His jaw moves as he works his throat. “I don’t know … but, I think so. I can’t prove it. He’s been drinking a lot more than usual. Since he came back from visiting you a few months ago, he’s been acting strange, and he has
a look on his face … ya know that one where he looks right through you and doesn’t actually see you?”
I’m all too familiar with that look. It’s what stared back at me from a hospital bed for four days. When I found him on the floor in his hotel room, foam coming out of his mouth and his body shaking, I thought he was dying. In reality, he was, really.
I was visiting him in Texas over Christmas that year. They had just wrapped on a show, and I wanted to go to the after party for a bit, but he said he was tired and went back up to the room. I was only in the bar without him for maybe a half an hour before I left. It just felt wrong being there without him.
So when I got to the room and saw him having spasms and his eyes rolled back in his head, I panicked. At first, I just stood there staring at him because I was in such shock. But then I yelled at him and called 911. I listened to their instructions, turned him on his side, and that’s when I saw it.
On the little table next to the bed, I saw a pile of white powder, a razor blade, a bunch of random pills. I dropped the phone at that point and began hitting him, yelling at him.
“Why would you do this, Lee? What the fuck is wrong with you? You asshole! Don’t you dare fucking leave me!”
The ambulance arrived and paramedics rushed in and wheeled him off. I pointed at the table, and through my tear-filled eyes, I saw them give each other a look. Like this was a normal occurrence. As if the love of my life wasn’t convulsing on a stretcher and I didn’t know if I’d ever get to see him again. Just thinking about it makes me sick.
“This can’t be happening, not now. Not fucking now!” My stomach clenches and I grip it, Jamie’s eyes fly to my hands.
“Meara …” He trails off turning to face the wall. He looks at the ceiling and takes a gigantic breath, then turns back to me. “Are you pregnant?”
Tears fill my eyes and I don’t have to answer for him to know that I am.
“Does he know?”
“No. Please don’t tell him. I was going to tell him tonight, but if he’s fucked up, I don’t want him to know. It’ll just make everything worse and add more stress to whatever the hell he’s feeling. He can’t know now.” I pause in my rant and try to collect my thoughts. “I told him, Jamie. I fucking told him I wouldn’t go through that again!”
After Liam’s overdose and his time in rehab, we had a huge discussion. I really do love him with every ounce of who I am, but I gave him an ultimatum. It was either the drugs or me. I said I wouldn’t be with him if he was going to do that again. He promised. Promised he was done. His explanation was that he just got caught up in the lifestyle, and since he wasn’t banging chicks after the shows, the only other option was drinking and drugs. I then explained I didn’t give a shit; that I loved him too much to sit around and watch him kill himself. He promised he’d get clean because he knew he was better than coke; he knew he was better than being numb and high all the time.
“I know.” He holds his arms out for me and I rest my head on his chest while he rubs up and down my back. “I don’t have proof, but the signs are all there. He still drinks a lot, more lately—”
I jump out of his arms as if he’s on fire. “What? He never drinks around me.”
“Don’t have an answer there either, babe.”
“Jesus, Jamie. Why didn’t you tell me any of this shit?” A throbbing starts between my eyes, and I squeeze the bridge of my nose. “Can I just have a minute alone? I’ll go see him in a second.”
“Sure, but you know we’re all here for both of you.” Jamie squeezes my shoulder as he walks out, and I crouch down, refusing to cry.
Anger takes hold as I grip the house papers in my hand. I cram them into my purse and with a steel rod in my back, I march to the dressing room. I’m supposed to meet him on his bus, but I thought I could catch him before he left. I turn the knob and am surprised it’s open. As quietly as I can, I walk in.
An empty bottle of vodka sits on a table and there’s a crack in the bathroom door. I take a half of a step in and have to cover my mouth when I see Liam through the slit, bent over the sink, sucking shit up his nose.
Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow the acid down as I walk out of the door, closing it quickly behind me. The bright red exit sign is like a beacon, and I run to it, flinging the door open with all my might. As soon as I round the corner, tears and vomit mix as they uncontrollably release from my body. My knees scrape on the ground when I can no longer stand on my own. Voices sound as if they’re getting closer, so I scoot back and use the brick wall to pull myself up.
My feet hit the pavement, and with no direction, I get the fuck out of here. Ahead of me, I see a sign for a train station, so I run that way. I fall down the last couple of steps and land awkwardly on my arm, but I feel no pain. The train going north leaves soon. I head that way and walk all the way to the last car so I can wallow in misery without an audience. My mind is forcing me to block it. I didn't see it; it was just a figment of my imagination. The future that I was promised did not just get ripped from my fingertips.
Get home. I just need to get home.
It’s like the bad dream I used to have when I was a kid, where I would fall into a black hole then get jolted awake full of sweat, panting for air, and clawing at the sheets. Once I get home and to my bed, I’ll wake up. I just need to get there first, and then it’ll all just be a bad dream.
The train lurches forward and I wrap my arms around my bent knees and stare out the window.
“Ticket? Hello, ma’am.” The attendant stops next to me and I dig a few dollars out of my purse. “One way or are you coming back?”
“One way.”
The train ride should be a little over an hour, and the further away I get from Chicago and Liam, the more numb I become. I dry heave several times, but since I already vomited, nothing else comes up. As the trees and buildings blur by, it takes my mind right along with it. Everything is blurry.
“Last stop.”
I get out and drag my feet to the bench just outside to where people normally sit and wait to be taken somewhere; I sit and don’t know where to go. What do I do next? I don’t want to go home anymore because Liam surrounds me there. The pub is not an option. Char and Travis are on a date night, and I don’t want to ruin that. Especially since she’s pregnant again.
Pregnant. God, what am I going to do?
Without even realizing it, I’m rubbing my stomach again, so I get up and walk. Whatever part of my brain is still functional is telling me this is a bad idea. It’s late at night and I’m walking by myself. At this point, I don’t care if something happens to me. But it’s not just me anymore, is it? I have a baby. A baby I will raise on my own because I refuse to allow a drug around my child, even if he is the father.
I’ve made it to a park surrounded by trees and bushes. A bitter laugh rises up when I think about the last time I was leaned up against a tree with Liam. His words, the promises passing through his lips of loving me forever and never wanting to let me go, and him pointing to our initials carved into the bark.
I tilt my head and walk up to a large maple tree, one that looks so similar to my treehouse tree. His face, his smile, his words, the soft touches, and now broken promises all transform into the trunk. My fists pound into the bark and I slip in the soil, causing me to fall into the prickly bushes around the tree. The same time the thorns stab my skin, my wrist throbs. I try to push myself up, but the pain is too much. Not just physical, but every emotion I never thought I would feel leaves me a pile of flesh and bones, curled up on the cold ground. Blurry.
* * *
“Miss? Are you all right?” A male voice rumbles through my ears. “Miss?”
“We should call the police,” responds the frantic voice of a female, somewhere close to me.
“Is she alive?”
A kind face appears in front of me and warm hands grab my arm and touch my wrist. I flinch at the pain.
“Yeah, she looks in shock.”
The deeper voice
turns to static in the background as I focus on the woman in front of me. She has a really cute bob. Her hair is about the same color as mine, maybe a little darker. I think I’m going to dye mine black. She pulls off red lipstick, though. I never could. Crazy hair colors, tattoos, and piercings were always it for me. But I don’t want red hair anymore. I see her lips move and even though it’s dark outside, the lights are bright enough that I can see clearly. She’s talking to me, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
A siren sounds in the distance, getting closer with every second, and before long, I’m being placed on a stretcher and wheeled into the back of an ambulance. I think they’re asking me questions. Who else would they be talking to? A sudden prick makes my eyes flash to my right arm where they’re putting a needle in it. They roll my body to the side and remove my purse from across my chest.
I hear my name called. Who’s here? My neck turns to the side and my eyes catch with a paramedic. His soft brown eyes are clear as day behind his lenses, and they look into mine. He asks what happened, and I try to remember.
I went to see Liam tonight. He was great onstage. Then after the show. I saw Jamie. Liam using. Again. I’m pregnant with his baby. Leaning over the sink. Powder. That’s right. Then I left. I took a train, right? Or did I walk?
Everything blurs again, and I remember being on the train. Looking out the window. Blurry. The brief memories I just had are gone now, and everything is blurry again.
I’m being moved now. “Female. Age twenty-five. Lacerations. Possible broken wrist.” Bright lights even behind my closed lids force them shut tighter.
Blurry. Everything’s blurry.
“Ma’am.”
“Can you hear me, miss?”
So many voices, so much movement.
Everything blurs again, and then it goes black.
* * *
Why is my mom crying?
I sit at the end of the bed with my knees bent and good arm wrapped around them. I’ve told her I’m fine … well, not told her out loud, but in my head I have. Everyone’s here. Pierce, my parents, Char, and Travis. I wonder where Caroline is. She’s so cute. I always wanted two babies. Well, I take that back, I did want two babies. Now I don’t know what I want. I focus again on the small brown stain on the wall. I wonder if it’s dried blood.