Page 44 of Down Beat
SEVENTEEN
Rey
“Paralyzer” – Finger Eleven
“How the fuck are we supposed to get him on stage for sound check in four hours?”
“Fucked if I know. You were the douchebag who brought out shots.”
“Oh, so it’s my fault now?”
“Did I say that, fuckhead?”
“Guys! Settle down, for fuck’s sake. We’ll drop him in the shower when we get back. Ice the fucker awake.”
Oh, I’m awake, all right. Just that my body doesn’t want to cooperate while we’re in this goddamn tumble drier of a car.
“Hey. If you want to give him a cold shower, that’s your deal, man. He almost knocked me out last time we did that.”
Ha. I still remember that night. Fun times.…
“How else do you propose having him awake enough to stand up, let alone play? We can’t wing it, Em.”
“Don’t you think I know that? Short of giving him an upper, I’m fucking out of suggestions.”
“None of us would be in this predicament if you hadn’t let him leave the theater.”
“Fuck up, Rick. Who asked you?”
The band tears themselves apart, and it’s all because of me. No surprises there. Fuck an upper. Somebody pop me a downer. I need to sleep for a week to get over this shit. Whoa! Slow down there, driver.
“He’s got some fucking talking to do when he comes around, anyway.”
I cringe internally at the hurt tone in my brother’s voice. Fucking useless, drunk body. I’d open my eyes and say something, but I’m pretty sure if I opened my mouth right now, all I’d do is vomit thanks to the constant bump and jolt of the car.
My chest tightens, but not from the effects of the alcohol. Nope. It’s the self-loathing that I resent with every part of my being. Nothing but a fuckup, Rey. Nothing but a fucking selfish fuckup.
I tune out the voices around me and surrender to the black fog that swirls in my head. The dark has always brought so much more comfort than the light.…
***
Holy, ba-jesus! “What… ugh… fuckers….”
“There he is,” Toby soothes before he backhands me across the goddamn face. “Wake up, asshole. We’ve got three hours until we leave for the venue, and some of us haven’t slept yet.”
Hard, unrelenting ceramic digs into my spine and the knobby bit at the base of my skull. I’m in the bath. That’s right. “I’m awake,” I slur.
Goddamn, these hotel fluorescents are fucking bright.
“Switch the light off, Em. Precious here can’t handle it judging by that face.”
The bathroom is plunged into darkness, save for the muted light filtering in from the adjacent bedroom. My eyes burn like two motherfuckers as I force them open again and wait for my focus to come around.
Shit. Toby’s fair pissed judging by that scowl. “How bad?” I groan.
“Depends what you refer to,” he says with a jerk of his head. “Damage to public property, damage to public image, or damage to band morale. Where should I start?”
“With the—” I pause to swallow away the bile ebbing in the base of my throat. “With the bit that hurts least.”