Page 54 of Fractured Frets

The angel on the other side scalded . . .

“You don’t need that. You’re on enough meds.

Just take it easy. You’ll be okay.”

But I wasn’t.

I wanted to enjoy our show and entertain the crowd. Get lost in the adrenaline high.

Fuck it.

I grabbed the key chain, twisted it open, and tipped out the hidden vial and metal straw. My hand trembled and my heart constricted as I formed a thin line of powder on the counter. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I got this.

I bent forward and snorted the blow up my nostril, then repeated the other side. Straightening, I blinked and wiped my nose.

“Aaaargh! Yep. I’m good.” I cleaned the counter and stashed the torch away. “It’s gonna be a good show. No...a fucking great show.”

But then guilt and shame crushed my chest.

What had I done?

Dick! Fool! Moron!

“Slip?” Cole knocked on the door. “You okay? It’s time to go.”

“Yep. Coming.” Too late now. I checked my nose was clean in the mirror, grabbed my toiletry bag, and headed out of the bathroom.

“What took you so long?” Cole gave me a weird look. “I need to fucking pee.”

“All yours, dude. Go for it.” I slapped him on the arm and let him pass. I headed over to my gear, dropped my toiletry bag on top and joined Flint and Lewis running through vocal warmups. Set to head out the door, I clapped my hands together. “You boys ready to rock Edinburgh?”

“Hell yeah.” Flint hugged me. “You take it easy on that hip.”

“It’s strapped up like a wrangled alligator. I’m good to go.” Once my meds and the coke hit, I wouldn’t feel a fucking thing.

We hit the stage with full force. Ten minutes into performing, chemical energy fired through my veins. Adrenaline fed my soul. Music pummeled through my chest. Heaven flooded my body in a hot rush. I couldn’t feel any pain in my hip. Whoa! I danced around as best as I could with my hip taped up to the nines, restricting too many bold moves. The hollers and cheers from the audience kicked my high to the next level. This was fucking wicked. Totally sick. Beyond wild.

Music was what I lived for.

Whoa! Fuck yeah!

I rushed off stage and hit the after-party hard with the guys. We had two days off before we played in Glasgow. Vodka and more cocaine got me through the night. I was in a blissed-out haze as Tia and Lewis dragged my ass back to our hotel.

I didn’t remember crashing.

***

“Hey. Slip. Wake up. It’s time to go.”

Lewis? Why was he in my room?

“No.” I groaned, not wanting to move. “Fuck off.”

“Dude, your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for five minutes,” he mumbled. “Mads is calling.”

It has? She is? Shit. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes. My head pounded like a hammer drill on full throttle. But wait? This wasn’t my hotel room. I lay sideways across the end of the king bed.

Lewis and Tia lay sprawled adjacent to me, their heads propped on piles of pillows.

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