Page 42 of Pretty Black

“What the fuck is your problem?” Alexander whisper yelled.

I took my earbud out. “What?”

“You have a photo shoot, and the stylist says you won’t change.”

“Does it matter what I’m wearing?” I tipped down my sunglasses to get a better look at him.

“Will you quit wearing those inside? You look like a moron.”

“My eyes hurt.” More from lack of sleep than the light, but I felt better wearing them.

“We have a packed day. I don’t have time for your dramatics, Iris,” Alexander said through his teeth.

“Then don’t deal with them,” I said off-handed.

“I don’t have that choice as your manager.”

“I’ll make that easy for you. I’ll quit, and then you don’t have to deal with me at all.” I got up, aimless, checking the time. It was the middle of the afternoon, but I didn’t care. I opened a bottle of scotch, drinking directly from the bottle.

“You can’t just quit. Do you know how many millions of people have paid to see you over the next few months? How many sold-out shows? We leave for Japan in days.”

“I don’t care.” I didn’t care about anything.

“How can you not fucking care? This is your job, Iris. You’re a fucking adult, and it’s time to get your shit together.”

“I have enough money.” But it didn’t actually matter. I didn’t want to spend it. I wanted to sleep forever, and if I quit, I could rent a hotel room and do just that.

“This isn’t about the money, Iris. This is about integrity.”

I shrugged, taking another drink. “I told you I don’t care. You win. Maybe I’ll go check myself into a long-term treatment facility.” I wouldn’t, but it was amusing to threaten it.

“Where is Caspian?” Alexander screamed out my door.

“He’s not here,” Lowe called back from the other room.

“Where the fuck is he?” Alexander asked. “I need him to come talk to Iris.”

I laughed. We hadn’t spoken at all in weeks. I wasn’t even giving him the silent treatment anymore. We just weren’t speaking. “I’ll be on the balcony.”

Alexander tried to drag me to interviews and photoshoots a few more times, but I stayed on the lawn chair on the balcony. I’d decided to stop taking the meds he kept feeding me, tired of feeling nothing.

When they all left for the night, I realized we were in Chicago and called an old friend of mine I knew to be a plug these days. Easy enough—he brought over an entire bag of party favors, and we sat watching the skyline while I tried a plethora of new drugs.

“You’ve never done heroin?!” Jeff asked, already prepping it.

“No, I’ve kept to what they offered me at Hollywood parties. Mostly coke, shrooms, acid, stuff like that.” I shrugged, holding out my arm when he gestured for it.

“It’s like a little piece of heaven.” He stuck the needle in my arm and depressed the plunger.

Bliss.

The first thing I’d felt in ages.

“Iris?” River’s voice pulled me from the haze.

I opened one eye. “I’m here.” I held up my hand. How long had I been out for? I thought he was gone for a few more days? I’d taken to sleeping with Lowe, and it sucked. I glanced between him and my manager, and I knew who was behind his coming home. “You didn’t have to leave. Alex is being unreasonable.”

“If it’s important for me to be here, then I need to be here,” River said softly.

---