Page 7 of Rockstar Retreat

“You don’t need to call anyone. Just point me to where I’m supposed to go and I’ll get ready now.”

He cleared his throat. “Actually, I’ll wait for you here and just take you.”

I sighed heavily, but yeah, that wasn’t a surprise either. I glowered at the man and he flinched again, but he had better control of his expression this time.

“Fine,” I muttered and closed the door in his face, then turned back to the room.

My nose wrinkled in more disgust as I took it in, even though it was my fault.

Gross.

Bottles and cans of beer were left on almost every flat, horizontal surface in the room. I’d gone through that stash before I started on the whiskey. I still had two more bottles, though at the rate I was going, I wondered how long it would all last. Probably not that long. Along with that, ashes and cigarette butts, some barely burned, others burned to the butt, littered the table. Some were left in the empty bottles, probably some of the cans too. I didn’t remember making all that mess, but I’d been too preoccupied with drinking and smoking to pay much attention.

I should probably clean the place up, but this wasn’t my fucking problem. They were paid to clean up. I didn’t even want to know the price tag on the room, but there was no doubt that it was a lot more than a hotel suite.

I didn’t know if the retreat worked like a regular hotel, but then again I didn’t care. I ignored the mess and headed into the bathroom. I went to take a quick shower and to change into something different, a tight, short-sleeved T-shirt and a pair of cotton pants.

Ten minutes later, I was back at the door and opening it. As much as I didn’t like following orders and getting pushed around, I didn’t want to get myself into any more trouble either. The guy was still there waiting for me, and he led me silently.

“Can I ask just what this session is?” I asked after a few minutes of silence.

He started, then turned a confused look my way. “Uh, sir. This is a yoga retreat. You’ll be going to a yoga class session,” he said matter-of-factly.

I cursed under my breath, changing my mind and wanting to turn back. But before I could turn to leave, the guy stopped and sent me a polite smile. He was probably cursing at me behind that look though.

“The practitioner overseeing your session will be here soon. Please wait for them.”

He was gone before I could voice a word of protest, and I looked around with a growl. The room was large and sparsely furnished, the walls in a dark cream color with wood flooring. There were two sets of large windows that let plenty of sunlight into the room. A few stools set around the room held potted flowers and statues, some mats were rolled up and set against the wall, but that was it.

“Damn,” I growled to myself.

Why was I attending a yoga session of all things? I mean, apparently it was a yoga retreat, but still, I didn’t do yoga. All that finding your inner peace shit didn’t appeal to me or I would have tried that shit on my own. But then, if I didn’t try, I was pretty sure I’d get hell for it from Tom, and I was sick of him nagging me.

I looked around when no one followed me immediately, tempted to just leave and hide back in my room. So what if they told on me to Tom and my ‘employer’?

But then my thoughts stalled when I saw someone walk in the room. It was Sharon, and suddenly, this didn’t feel all that bad. She was technically part of the staff, but I wondered if they attended classes too.

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Her eyebrows shot up as she slowly walked over to me. “Shouldn’t that be my line? You know classes are daily, right? Though I think your schedule is a little different. You have a few off days.”

I scowled. “I haven’t seen anything like a schedule, so I don’t know what you mean.”

She waved a dismissive hand at me. “Your agent must have given it to you, because he was pretty particular about you meeting your schedule. I met him after I left you when he dropped off your bags, and he told me about it.”

Well, I couldn’t say it was impossible. I did a lot of not listening when it came to Tom and I just couldn’t be bothered.

“I don’t want to be here,” I said bluntly. “I think this is all a waste of time I could have used for something else, like writing more songs.”

The look she sent me was one full of sympathy, and I felt my own expression turn to stone. I had the sudden urge to run, but I had a feeling she wouldn’t let me.

“Sharon—” I said urgently, only for her to cut me off, raising a hand to stop the flow of words that wanted to come out.

“I don’t need any explanation from you, Jerrik. You've been a terror to the staff the past couple of days, you know that? And when they finally got you out, the poor people that had the job of looking after your room were practically in despair.”

I pursed my lips, feeling a little guilty. I could have picked up after myself. But then I pushed it away and leveled a frown at Sharon. It was their job, wasn’t it? They were getting paid for it.

“Did you want something, Sharon?” I asked, wondering why she chose today to search me out. Because she heard I finally left my room? Of all the people that had been sent to try and draw me out, I hadn't heard her once. She had wanted to avoid me, after all.

So just what was she doing?

But the next words to come out of her mouth had me feeling cold.

“You may not realize it, but just trust me, Jerrik. The pain you’re feeling? I understand. Not entirely, but I know you’re not okay and we’re here to help you, all of us. But if that's too much for you, I’ll do it. That’s my job.”