Page 80 of Rock Bottom

“It might not be a bad thing, though.”

“Here’s the thing. When and if the time comes that I can’t fight the demons off anymore, I’m going to find a way. That’s all there is to it. No matter who’s watching or how much they fine me or how many people are rooting for me, I’m going to do what an addict does.”

“So you have no hope of remaining sober?”

“Short-term, absolutely. Long-term, I don’t think it’s possible. I don’t do drugs because I can’t help myself. I do them because I want to. And I don’t think that desire will ever go away. It’s like somebody telling me I can’t have sex ever again. How long do you think I can go before it’s too much?”

Jesus.

This was some deep shit, and I almost felt dirty sitting here.

He was baring his soul to Presley because I’d asked him to, and I suddenly worried whether or not the emotional toll would be too high. The whole world could potentially read this article and the things he was saying scared me. They would inevitably freak out our management company and everyone else close to us. And he wasn’t done yet either.

“I have one more question for you,” Presley said.

“Hit me.” Carter took a bite of his pork fried rice.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?”

“That’s easy,” he said without hesitation. “Dead.”

* * *

Presley was quiet on the drive home, and I wasn’t sure which one of us had been more impacted by Carter’s interview.

“You okay?” I asked her, reaching for her hand.

“I’m fine. Just kind of sad. Carter is so sweet and funny. I hate seeing what he’s going through.”

“Trust me, I know the feeling.”

“It must be a hundred times harder on you, watching someone who’s like a brother to you struggle. I just met him, and my heart is broken. You must be… devastated.”

“It’s even harder because I have to find a balance between being the friend who cares about him and just wants to help, and the business partner who needs him to get his head out of his ass. We have money, contracts, commitments. There’s a lot at stake. Hearing him say he doesn’t think he’ll be around in a decade makes me believe we have to be tougher on him, and that’s going to suck.”

“You don’t think he was saying it just for shock value?”

“That’s not his style. He’s straight up honest. Sometimes to a fault.”

“He needs a woman,” she said quietly. “And maybe a kid. Someone to live for. Something beyond music that will make him want to get out of bed every day without wanting to get high.”

“You know anyone interested in a sweet but broken addict who needs to be saved?”

She laughed. “Not off the top of my head, but we can work on it.”

“He seems anxious to meet Aunt Meg. Maybe she can help.”

“That’s a good idea.” She grinned. “Can you imagine them together?”

“I totally can. Making trouble for everyone.”

“For sure. Maybe we can take him to the rehab center. She loves company.”

“Yeah, let’s set it up. Maybe Sunday?”

“I’ll ask her, but it’s not like she’s going anywhere yet.”

“So, uh, are you planning to put that in the article? The part about him being dead in ten years.”

---