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Marco’s gaze darted to the bottle in my hand and his smarmy grin widened. “Getting ready for the show, princess?”
The word “princess” made me want to vomit. It’s what he whispered to me when he…a sob built up in my chest and the edges of my vision darkened.
Stop it,I told myself fiercely. I couldn’t think aboutthatright now. I had to go out on stage.
I unscrewed the cap and swallowed a few of the pills, hoping it would bring the calm I so desperately needed.
The problem was that it was starting to take more and more of the pills to give me the numbness I craved.
My mother watched me, a small, smug smile on her face that made me want to scream, destroy the room…destroy myself.
Even more than I already was.
“A shot or two will finish the job,” Marco said casually as he walked over and grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured it into a shot glass. He meant that it would kick in with the pills and getme to the numbness I required for the show…but it fit right in with my current thought process. Finish the job…
He handed the shot glass to me, making sure his fingers slid against mine when he did it, and I tried to hold in the revulsion and fear his touch gave me.
I threw the vodka back, not even noticing the burn. Or maybe it wasn’t that I didn’t notice it. Maybe it was that I liked the hurt.
There it was.
I could feel the numbness sliding through me, erasing all the nerves, and the nausea, and the pain.
My high always started with a subtle warmth spreading through my body, like a comforting embrace that chased away the cold that had gripped me just moments before. The trembling in my hands subsided, and a sense of calm settled in.
But it didn't stop there. The calm deepened into a soothing euphoria, like a gentle wave washing over me. My senses seemed to sharpen, and the world around me became more vibrant, as if I were seeing it through a new lens. The colors in the dressing room seemed to pop, and the soft hum of the fluorescent lights became a melodic symphony.
My heart rate steadied, and the knot of tension in my stomach loosened. It was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and I felt lighter, freer. The anxiety that had plagued me was like a distant memory, replaced by a sense of invincibility, like I was flying high above myself. All my problems were drowned out by the euphoria slicing across my skin.
“That’s it, princess,” Marco purred as my mother adjusted my outfit.
I stared at myself in the mirror, admiring the way the liquid silver of my form-fitting, sleeveless gown shimmered under the dressing room's lights. My chest had intricate beadwork thatcaught the light, creating a dazzling effect that seemed to rival the stars themselves.
Or maybe that was just my high talking.
After she was satisfied with how I looked, they led me out of the dressing room. We got into a golf cart, and then I was driven to where I’d enter the arena.
“Try not to embarrass me,” Jolette snarked as I got out of the cart.
I normally would flinch at her words. But right then, there was nothing that could touch me, nothing that could make me feel anything butthis.
I grinned at her and she scoffed. “Did we give her too much?” she muttered to Marco as he stared at me with greedy, glimmering eyes.
“She’s fine,” he answered, handing me my guitar. I hummed under my breath as my fingers brushed the strings.
It was time.
I walked down the tunnel and emerged into the brightly lit arena, and a deafening roar erupted from the crowd. The screams and applause battered against me as I moved, but my high acted as a barrier, protecting me from the anxiety that it would have given me otherwise.
I stepped onto the stage, the spotlight capturing me in its brilliant glow, and I leaned towards the microphone with a confident smile that had come from doing this what seemed like a million times over the years. "My name is Olivia," I announced, my voice carrying over the enthusiastic cheers of the audience. "And welcome to my show."
With that introduction, I launched into my first song. The lyrics flowed effortlessly from my lips, and my voice soared through the arena, filling every corner. The crowd, caught in the magic of the moment, sang along, their voices blending withmine in a soundtrack that I both adored and hated at the same time.
Minutes stretched into hours, and I sang to them. And they sang to me.
And for a little while, I felt happy.
After the show, I walked back into the dressing room, and I stared at myself, not recognizing the girl glaring back at me.
