With shaky words, I say, “I’m so sorry.”
Jordon scans his eyes over my body and then focuses back on my face. “Are you okay? Kurt just came back into the after party and said you bolted out of here like the place was on fire. He didn’t know what happened.”
I feel like shit that I scared the crap out of Kurt. He probably thinks I’m going to claim he raped me or something.
God. This is just getting worse by the minute.
I shake my head no and step back away from his grasp, “I’m fine, just not feeling well. I think I drank too much. Goodnight.” I say over my shoulder as I head down the hallway towards the exit.
I can’t be around him right now. My head is on the verge of exploding, and I don’t want to look like a total lunatic.
As soon as I step outside in the crisp night air, I am able to breathe my first deep breath. My lungs ache, and my head is filling with voices of my past, causing me to feel like I’m on the verge of another breakdown.
Kicking my heels off, I hold them in my hand and run towards my bus needing to lock myself away from everyone and everything.
Staggering onto the bus, I ignore the pain in my feet from running barefoot over the asphalt. I quickly get to work tearing my bathroom apart. My manager and sponsor would kill me if they knew I hid coke on my tour bus. No one would ever think to look inside a box of tampons. I’ve had the coke in there in case of a rainy day since my last tour.
They tore my entire bus and house apart while I was in rehab. Thankfully for me, they never discovered the last vile I had inside the box.
The urge to get high is overwhelming.
I’ve been sober for so long, but I am not strong enough. I think for a moment; maybe I should dump it out and call my sponsor, but as quickly as the thought pops in my head I shake it away.
I can’t take the everyday pain. It’s too hard. I miss Cane too much, and everything with Jordon is just fucking with my head even more.
I knew the night I met him I was playing a dangerous game, but I ignored the waving red flags, and I gave into him anyway.
As I grab the vial of coke from under my bathroom sink. I feel a rush of adrenaline course through my veins, and my body shivers with the excitement of doing a line.
Climbing back to my feet, I go to my bedroom and grab my purse, and dig out a hundred dollar bill. As I spin around to grab my magnified mirror, I see him. I see Cane again.
“You can haunt my ass all you want! I don’t fucking care anymore; I’m finally admitting I’m not strong enough to deal with not having you. So if I need to be high to get through the fucking day…that’s what I’ll do!” I yell to the image of Cane that haunts me, but in reality I’m actually yelling at nothing. Like a crazy ass lunatic.
Tears are falling down my face as I pour a line on my mirror and dig out a debit card to cut it into two thin lines. Rolling up the bill, I hold it to my nose and quickly snort the first line. Tipping my head back, I savor the feeling of peace that takes over my body. My nose is tingling and numb. I can taste the coke in the back of my throat.
My entire body feels like it’s coming alive and floating off of the floor.
I can hear Cane’s voice in my head diminishing, and relief washes over me. Leaning down, I snort the next line. Rubbing my hand across my nose, I wipe away the coke residue and pad across my room turning on my iPod. I crank it up as loud as it will go, blast Imagine Dragons, and fall back onto my bed.
The room is spinning, and I feel each note of Bleeding Out vibrating in my skull. When I’m high, music always sounds a thousand times better. I not only hear it, but I feel it too.
My body is humming with energy and I feel the need to get up and move. Climbing up onto my bed, I bounce around on it, singing my heart out along with the music blasting throughout my tour bus.
I spend the next hour singing and writing new music. I forgot how inspired I get when I am high. Shit, every number one song I wrote on our last album, I wrote while high on coke.
Why the hell did I ever stop?
Ohhh right, because I was a dumbass and overdosed.
Lying on my mountain of pillows; I roll over, grab my cell phone and hit play. I smile as I watch a video of Cane and me running around in the ocean in front of our condo. Roxie had recorded it. I love how she caught us in such a happy and carefree moment. I lay there for what feels like an eternity watching every video I have on my phone.
I slowly feel my high wearing off, and the all familiar feeling of depression begins to take over.
“Brittan. Why are you doing this?” I snap my eyes up to the foot of my bed where I see Cane standing staring down at me with sadness in his eyes.
I let out a small sob as I take in his tall, tanned and toned body. He’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.