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My head pounds like I have a built-in sledgehammer on ‘roids and my mouth feels like sandpaper.
“Um,” I smack my lips a little.
As I try to open my eyes, the light drives a nail through them, so I shut them, and slowly squint them open.
I turn my head to the right and find all my bandmates and our band manager staring at me.
I frown, but frankly I’m too hungover to move yet. “What the fuck?”
A man with a long, white coat enters the room, looking at some papers on his hand. His eyes lift to me, and he nods. “Mr. Reynolds, it’s nice to see you awake.”
Where the hell am I? Looking around, I take in all the medical instruments. “Why am I in the hospital?”
I have no idea when or how I got here.
The doctor looks at my IV drip. “You were found unresponsive in your hotel room by the cleaning staff. You were brought here by ambulance. Do you remember any of that?”
“No.” Trying to quiet down the constant pounding inside my head, I massage my temples. “I’m a heavy sleeper, it’s not a big deal. I’m fine.”
I try to get up, but the doctor stops me with a hand on my shoulder. Everything hurts too much to fight him, so I just relax against the pillow for a little while longer.
Ares crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head as he stares at me. “You weren’t breathing.”
“That’s bullshit. I bet the maid didn’t even check to make sure. She just wanted to be the one to play the hero so she could be on the news.”
“No,” the doctor says. “You were barely breathing. The paramedics had to give you naloxone. And you coded once on the way here. Luckily, they were able to bring you back, and we pumped your stomach, but you should consider reducing your intake of alcohol and pills. Ideally, give them up altogether.”
I just keep silent.
Truth is, if I stop, I won’t be able to sleep or function. The ghosts inside my head haunt me, and only alcohol and pills are able to shut them up for a couple of hours.
Lucy was usually able to shut them up for as long as she was around, not a drop of alcohol needed. As long as she was a call away, the ghosts stayed buried.
But she left me. Wouldn’t stay for the show just so we could catch up.
And after seeing her again after so long, the ghosts almost drowned me.
Our manager starts herding the band out of the room. “We should let him rest.”
“Thanks, Ty.”
I can’t stand all of them judging me. All of them thinking they are so much better than me.
I just want to be alone.
Right now, I’ll take the ghosts over the weight of the righteous gaze of my bandmates.
Hit a pat on my shoulder, everyone leaves but Ty.
He comes close to me.
With his phone in hand, he is grinning as he asks, “Did you forget to tell us that you saved a damsel in distress from unwanted attention?”
“What?”
He touches the screen on his phone and it plays a video of me knocking out the fucker who was trying to kiss Lucy.
“Oh, that motherfucker. Yeah, I knocked him out. He was harassing Lucy. Not that I knew who she was at the time, though.”
