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“Not with Bigger, you didn’t,” Miles growled.
“No, not with fuckin’ Bigger, cause you’re all a bunch of pussies!”
“As manager – ”
“As manager, you’re supposed to get us gigs, so get us on the fuckin’ stage!”
“I was going to say, my first priority is the well-being of the band.”
“People are expecting us to be there! If we don’t show up, they’re gonna say we broke up!”
“Since when do you care what people say?” Derek laughed.
“When they think they’re gonna miss the last performance cuz of
me!”
“Nobody’s breaking up,” Ryan said.
“Yeah, you say that cuz I almost kicked the bucket and you’re bein’ all fuckin’
kumbaya
right now, but I ain’t bettin’ on
that
lastin’ long.”
“Nobody’s – ”
“Fuck off! We’re doin’ the gig!”
“No you’re not,” Miles said. “You’re going to get well, and then we’re going back in the studio.”
Riley started tearing at her IV. “Well,
I’m
goin’ to fuckin’ Austin, and you fuckers can either go, or you can read about my two-hour drum solo cuz none of you had the balls to – ”
“Hey! Hey!” Derek yelled, and ran over to grab her hands.
“Riley, cut it out!” Ryan shouted, and grabbed her arm.
Once they had her arms pinned, she started thrashing her body. “What’re you gonna do, keep me locked up for a week?! I’m out of here tomorrow – what’re you gonna do then, huh?!”
“FINE!” Miles shouted. “Fine. I’ll see if they’ll reschedule us later in the festival, alright, you little prat?”
Riley narrowed her eyes. “What’s a prat?” Then she smiled mischievously like the devil-child I remembered from the tour. “Is it in there in your boot with the shovel?”
“Will you act like a fuckin’ sane person if I see if they’ll reschedule?” Miles barked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Which means NO FUCKIN’ ALCOHOL.”
She made a face. “Fuck you, Miles.”
“I’m serious, you little shite.”
She pondered that for a minute… then relented. “I’ll cut back.”
“You’ll not drink a goddamn thing, is what you’ll – ”
“FUCK YOU, MILES! I said I’ll cut back!”
Miles was about to yell at her again when Derek interrupted. “Negotiation 101, Miles: when a crazy bitch offers you better terms than she’s ever offered before, take the deal.”
“Fuck you!” Riley raged as she tried to kick Derek, which wasn’t easy with both him and Ryan holding down her arms.
“Fine, I’ll make the call, just settle the fuck down,” Miles barked as he walked out of the hospital room.
Derek and Ryan let go of Riley’s arms, and she laid back peacefully in bed.
“Welcome back, luv,” Killian said from the hospital chair where he was plinking away at his guitar. “Missed you.”
“Thanks, Limey. How about a bottle of Jack for a welcome back present?”
“Can’t do that, but I could offer you something else medicinal,” Killian said, pulling the vaporizer out of his inside jacket pocket.
“What are you doing?!” Ryan hissed. “Put that away! Do you want to get arrested?!”
Killian replaced his toy with the air of a scolded child.
“Thanks, but I don’t wanna end up a pothead like you,” Riley said.
“You prefer being a dead drunk, huh,” Derek deadpanned.
Riley flipped him the bird.
“Does anybody else kind of miss the quiet, depressed, well-behaved Riley?” Derek asked the room.
Riley leaned over and slugged his leg. “Yeah, fuck you, too, pretty boy.”
