Page 59 of Madness

I nod, disappointment mixing with determination. "Alright. Let's start the mail request. And maybe... maybe I can ask Lauren if she knows anyone who could pick it up faster?"

"Are you sure you want to involve Lauren in this?" Brad asks cautiously.

I run a hand through my damp hair, conflicted. Lauren's face flashes in my mind again, this time tinged with worry. The way she'd sounded during our last call, concern etched in her voice. She knows now that I’ve been drinking. "I don't know, man. But she's already involved, isn't she? She's the one who told me about all this."

Brad nods thoughtfully. "Fair point. Just... be careful, Dakota. This is heavy stuff."

"I know," I sigh, the weight of it all settling back on my shoulders. "Believe me, I know."

As Brad outlines the next steps - starting the mail request, looking into AA meetings, or phone counseling options, and preparing for tonight's show - I find myself staring at my reflection in the mirror. The man looking back at me seems older, worn. But beneath the exhaustion, I see a flicker of the old Dakota - the one who fell in love with music, the one who promised Lauren a future.

I have to do this, I realize. Not just for me, but for all of us - the ghost of Chloe, the memory of Miles, the future with Lauren and Roman I'm desperate to salvage. I have to face this demon, slay this dragon, whatever it takes.

As Brad leaves to rejoin the others, I pick up my bass, fingers finding familiar chords. The music has always been my sanctuary, my way of processing the world. Maybe it can help me navigate this storm, too.

I check my phone one last time. Lauren's missed call stares back at me. I'll call her back soon, I decide. After I've started the process for the police report, after I've found my footing again. I can’t avoid the repercussions of our call last night forever.

For now, I've got a mystery to solve and a demon to face. The road ahead is long and treacherous, but for the first time in a while, I don't feel like I'm walking it alone. It's time to face the music - in every sense of the phrase.

34

I FEEL IT TOO

LAUREN

The kitchen light above me flickers, matching the erratic rhythm of my thoughts. It's 7:17 PM, and still no call from Dakota. My phone sits silent on the counter, a constant reminder of the void where his voice should be.

I run my fingers over the smooth, cool surface of my pharmacology textbook, but the words blur before my eyes. Instead, my mind replays Dakota's slurred words from yesterday, the anger and pain in his voice mixing with older, more painful memories.

Suddenly, I'm back in our old apartment, the one Miles and I shared. The sour smell of stale beer and unwashed clothes. Miles, sprawled on the couch, empty bottles at his feet. His bloodshot eyes were unfocused and accusing. "You don't understand," he'd slurred. "I need it."

I shake my head, Dakota isn't Miles, I remind myself. But the knot in my stomach tightens all the same.

"Mommy?" Roman's small voice breaks through my reverie. He stands in the doorway, clutching Rex the dinosaur. "Can we have a snack?"

I paste on a smile, pushing away my worries. "Sure, baby. How about some apple slices?"

As I cut the apple, I watch Roman settle at the table, his little legs swinging. He picks up one of my highlighters, mimicking my study habits by drawing yellow lines across his coloring book.

"Is Dakota coming back soon?" he asks, eyes on his 'homework.'

The knife slips, nearly nicking my finger. "No, sweetie. Dakota's very busy with his music right now. He’s all the way in another state."

Roman nods, accepting this with the easy faith of a child. But I can't help wondering, what if Dakota's drinking escalates? What if Roman starts to notice the mood swings, the broken promises? The thought makes me feel sick.

I can't take it anymore. I need to talk to someone who understands.

Leaving Roman with his snack and homework, I step into the living room and dial Shannon's number. She picks up on the second ring.

"Lauren? Is everything okay?"

I let out a shaky breath, sinking onto the couch. "Not really. I... Dakota's drinking again."

There's a pause on the other end of the line. "Oh, honey. Are you sure?"

"Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "When we talked yesterday, he even admitted it. And now he's not returning my calls."

"Shit," Shannon breathes. "I'm so sorry, Lauren. What happened? Did he say anything specific?"

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