Page 100 of Red Hot Harmony

Even the drugs.

Especially the drugs.

The white bliss that stormed through my brain and allowed me to believe in things my clean and sober self never could. The freedom. The absence of worry.

I scanned the room again, gaze jumping from one person to another.

My stomach tightened at the sight of snowy powder someone was cutting into thin lines on the coffee table.

I didn’t hear it, but I imagined it all the same, the tap-tap-tap of the credit card against the surface. The scrape. The whoosh. The nirvana.

My heart gave a lurch, beating all my senses back into me.

Suddenly, I was standing in the middle of the living room with a guitar riff and drums and vocals pushing against me from every angle as if the music was dead-set on penetrating my skin, getting underneath it and poisoning my already failing body.

I shut my eyes.

Opened them.

Nothing changed.

I was still in a house full of young people, possibly even minors. They were laughing and drinking and smoking weed, unaware of how their budding, healthy, unabused bodies were already rotting on the inside.

Part of me wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, but part of me wanted to ask for a joint, plop down on one of the couches, and let it all go away.

Fuck, I was tired.

I was exhausted by this new lifestyle that didn’t include any real fun.

My vision swam and I had to really concentrate to bring it back to focus, and when I did, I saw Camille on the opposite side of the room, shoving her phone at some kids, who—by the looks of it—were higher than fucking Mount Everest.

Drawing a deep breath, I ripped past the swaying bodies. Someone grasped my shoulder, possibly recognizing me.

Camille spun around, showing Ally’s picture to the next group of people. Girls. All young. Black eyeliner. Blood-red lipstick. Fishnet tops.

This was a mistake, I realized. I was going to be tackled as soon as enough people got wind of my being here.

“Camille.” I slipped my arm through hers and pulled her to the side. “We gotta hurry up and find Braden. Half of these kids probably already recognized me.”

She didn’t say anything. Only shot me a glare and moved to the other room. The kitchen.

The lights here were bright and I was able to see the faces clearly. Just as I thought, they were all green.

Too green to be snorting shit and smoking weed.

Hypocrite much?

You were about the same age when you started doing hard drugs, fucking, and all the other wonderful things the law said you couldn’t.

“Has anyone seen this girl?” Camille was asking one of the guys with a shaved head when I finally spotted a dude I’d seen at the Valley Club during Ally’s first gig. I didn’t know him, but my brain latched on to the image of his features as I was remembering seeing him backstage with the others.

“Hey, you!” I shouted at him, weaving my way through the clusters of visibly drunk teens.

His head snapped toward me. He frowned.

“I’m looking for Braden,” I said, crowding him.

“Sure.” He held a plastic cup in one hand and my eyes dropped to it, surveying the amber liquid inside.

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