Chapter 5
SLIP
THE PAST – FEbrUARY – 13 MONTHS AGO
After a long day of recording in New York, the guys and the four members of Everhide—Gemma, Kyle, Hunter, and Hayden—dragged me across the street to a trendy bar to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday. I used to love going out, throwing a party, getting high, drunk...and laid...in any given order to mark the occasion, but now, the day was clouded in darkness. It would forever more be the anniversary of Phil’s death. Today was the first one. How could I have fun on the day that reminded me of losing my best friend?
I didn’t feel like partying.
In a dim corner of the bar, we sat around, eating burgers and fries. Hunter had ordered the drinks, so the vodka and whiskey flowed. Flint and Cole were unusually quiet. Wasted. Their glassy gazes seemed to reflect my grief-stricken sentiment. Everhide and Lewis—our new bassist—kept the conversations rolling, overly excited about the tracks we’d recorded for our album and the singles selected for release. All going well, we’d finish in the studio next week and head home to LA .
But me? I wanted to talk about Phil. So much weight pressed against my chest, it was difficult to breathe. I missed him so fucking much. I raised my tumbler toward Cole and Flint sitting opposite me and swirled the vodka around in the glass. “Okay, you sappy sacks of shit. This one’s for Phil. To remembering the good times—not the bad.”
Flint winced. He tapped his glass against mine, guzzled his shot, then slammed the glass down on the table as if it weighed a ton. “It still fucking hurts too much. It’s still hard to comprehend he’s gone.”
Cole swallowed a finger of vodka, then rubbed Flint on the back. “Yeah. He should be here.”
“Do you remember your twenty-first, Cole?” I poured a fresh round of drinks. “Phil and I organized that huge party for you. We hired pole dancers and a DJ and over one hundred people turned up at your house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that much blow and that many bare tits in one place.”
“Not so sure about that,” Cole mumbled, slouching back in his chair. “The party Flint threw at the end of our last tour would come close. But that was full of more drugs than naked women.”
“True, but at yours, Phil was so loaded.” Images of Phil stripping down to his boxer briefs and twirling around a pole flashed behind my eyelids. God. He’d do anything for a laugh. Anything to entertain the crowd. The man had no shame. “He kept trying to outdo the girls dancing.”
“Slip?” Pain contorted Flint’s face. “No stories. Not tonight. It’s still too raw.” He pushed back his chair and staggered to his feet, swaying and stumbling sideways. “I’m outta here.” But as he grabbed his coat, he crashed into Cole.
Fuck. I hadn’t seen Flint this drunk in months. I didn’t want him to go backward, spiral downhill. I’d best shut the fuck up.
Cole stood, capturing Flint around the shoulders. “Hey. Let’s get you back to the apartment. I’m done too.” He grabbed his jacket and turned Flint toward the door. “We’ll see everyone at the studio tomorrow. Slip? Lewis? You coming?”
“Soon.” My ribs constricted and hurt. I’d wanted to talk about Phil. Remember him. Tell funny stories. I needed to, but clearly they weren’t up for it. “I’m gonna stay and have a few more drinks. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Gemma and the Everhide guys rose to their feet.
“We’d better head home too,” Gemma said as they shrugged on their coats, then wrapped scarves around their necks. “Kids always wake us early. We have a big day tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” I waved, barely lifting my fingers off the table. “No worries. Thanks for dinner.”
“I’ll stay and have another drink with you.” Lewis shuffled across the chairs and took the one opposite me. “That okay?”
“Absolutely.” After everyone left, I stretched out my legs and poured another vodka. “Some birthday, huh?”
“Anniversaries of losing someone you cared about are hard. I get that.” Lewis grabbed the bottle of whiskey and refreshed his glass. “I lost my pop nearly a year ago.”
“It sucks, doesn’t it?”
He curled his hands around his glass and bobbed his head. “Yep. It certainly does.” Sadness and understanding shimmered in his silver eyes. “You want to talk? About Phil?”
The backs of my eyes stung as I nodded. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“What was cool about him?”
I dropped my head back and sucked in a deep breath. “Everything. His energy. Zest for life. Phil owned any room he was in. He was loud. Funny. Arrogant. Immature. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. He just lived life to the max.” Yep. That was Phil. “One time, we were playing in this club in San Diego, he stripped down to nothing because some chick yelled out, ‘Show us your dick, Phil.’ So he did. Mind you, we were never asked to play at that venue again.”
Lewis chuckled. “I’ve done some crazy shit on stage, but flashing my junk is a no.”
“Same.” So many memories. A life cut too short. “He was just fun. We lived to party and play music.”
“I’m down for any of those things at any time if you ever need to let off some steam.”
“Thanks. I might take you up on that.” I sank back into my chair, staring at my vodka.
“I’m sorry he’s gone.” Lewis’s tone softened.
“Me too.” I took a mouthful of vodka, sloshed it around my mouth, then swallowed it down. The back of my throat burned. Warmth spread through my chest and meandered along my veins, calming my racing mind, my aching soul, and my sore hip. “I’m fucking grateful to be here though. We’re still playing. We’ve recorded a new album. Finding you has been incredible.” But a sharp jab twisted low in my guts. In the two months since he’d joined us, Lewis had blown our minds. His talent was off the charts. His energy, captivating. His creativity, exceptional...and we clicked. I could sit for hours talking to him about anything and everything. We jammed and worked back late in the studio. It was like our souls had known each other for several lifetimes.
I loved and hated the mix of emotions that pummeled through me. I’d been best friends with Phil for fifteen years. Lewis had walked into our lives and become my buddy within a handful of weeks.
How could I connect with someone so quickly?
I could say the same thing about Maddy. She’d captivated me from the moment I’d met her eight months ago. I’d tried to ignore my attraction to her and vice versa. But so much for only spending one night together and not wanting anything serious. I still wasn’t sure where we were heading. We’d hooked up four times since we first slept together last September. We texted all the time. Called each other. Saw each other when we could...in secret. I hadn’t seen her for six weeks while we’d been here in New York, but I was counting down the days until I went home. It had been too long between drinks! I didn’t want anyone else to quench my thirst. What was with that?
Ergh!
How could I let go of Phil and let these two people into my life so easily? They were so different. I didn’t know how to find peace and comfort with the change. The change in me. The desire for new things and new directions.
“I’m stoked to be here.” Lewis ruffled his hand through his blond shoulder-length hair, pulling it back off his face. “It’s mind-blowing.”
“You fit from the moment you auditioned.” That was the truth. “But this album is a big deal for us too. Signing with Everhide’s label and having a massive entertainment management group like Ashlem take us onboard to promote and tour has been huge. It could be a game-changer. I hope you’re ready for the ride.” Am I? Fuck.
“It’s scary but exciting.” Light shimmered across Lewis’s eyes as he swiveled his glass back and forth on his coaster. “I’ve been waiting for something like this my whole life. It’ll be awesome.”
“Yeah, it better be.” My emotions were up and down, like I was playing scales at pace. I swiped my hand across my mouth, then down my neck. “I’m not looking forward to the jump in popularity though. I like being able to walk down the street without turning too many heads. I like not being followed by paparazzi. Wouldn’t it be nice to become more successful without the shit that comes with it?” If our third album took off as much as Ashlem believed it would, our band’s celebrity status would escalate to new heights. We’d have no privacy for the next two years—maybe even longer. I loved performing and promo, touring and traveling, meeting fans and celebrating after our shows. But I could do without being hounded by ruthless reporters and pushy photographers who often twisted the truth around just to sell a story. I’d seen enough of that when Flint had gone off the rails. I loathed the lies and bullshit.
“I’m not sure that’s possible.” Lewis leaned back in his chair. “My brief brush with stardom years ago gave me insight into how shitty the music industry can be. That the Internet is full of crap. The only way to handle it is to surround yourself with good friends and people you trust. You’ve got that. I doubt there is anything the tabloids could publish that you haven’t already been through. You’ve always stuck together. That’s one thing I admire about you guys. If we stick together and are always honest with each other, everything will be fine.”
I raised one eyebrow. “You trying to be wise, old man?”
“Fuck you.” He grinned. “I’m only five years older. I’m not ready to hang up my party shoes just yet.”
“Good. You wouldn’t be here if you were.”
I just wanted to play. I loved our music. I loved the life we had. I didn’t want that to disappear. But the wheels were now in motion to take our music to the next level, and I prayed we would survive. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t worried about my friends...I worried about me.
My hip had been in agony since I’d had a bad stack snowboarding six weeks ago, just after Christmas at Big Bear. We’d been goofing around as we’d raced down a black run, carving up the snow. Cole had lost his balance and wiped me out. In spectacular style, I’d tumbled head over heels several times before I’d crashed into a tree. Me, being me, I’d gotten up, dusted myself off, and laughed about it. Said I was okay.
But I wasn’t.
By the time we’d snowboarded home to the cabin, and I’d showered, the solid black bruise covering my hip and lower back was the size of two hands, and the pain was excruciating. Before we’d come to New York to record our album, I’d gone to the doctor’s. Scans had shown I had a bulging disc in my lower back but hadn’t done any new damage to my hip. By some miracle I hadn’t re-torn my labrum—the cushioning in my hip socket. The surgery I’d had to reattach it following my horrific surfing accident when I was seventeen had somehow held together. Not much could be done about the new pain, other than rest, having regular physical therapy, getting injections, and taking meds. I’d opted for everything. After several needles of cortisone, deep into my joints, the doctors had sent me home with a prescription for Tramadol. Having to take a mid-strength, synthetic opioid medication to manage the pain had me break out in a cold sweat.
I loathed taking pills.
I was terrified of popping them after losing Phil to addiction.
But weeks on, my hip still ached like a bitch. Nothing had eased the constant ache. I needed it to get better before our grueling promotional schedule kicked in.
I had to take it easy. Rest. I had to do anything and everything I could to avoid the temptation of pills and cocaine. I fought against it every day. I needed to keep my priorities straight. Keep my reasons to hold my shit together at the forefront of my mind. I lived for my band, my music, and, if this thing with Maddy turned into something more solid down the track, maybe for her too.
My phone pinged on the table. I glanced at the message.
Maddy: Happy birthday. Know this day is hard for you.
Sending hugs.
I’m in la next week.
Hope we can catchup ??? XOXO.
Just one message from her made the day better.
Lewis folded his arms and rested them on the table. “I’m ready for anything this opportunity to play with you throws my way. I’m honored to be a part of it.” A playful, drunken smile curled across his lips. “We’re fucking good. The songs we’ve recorded are amazing. This album will kick ass. Yes, we’re under pressure to do well, but I have no doubt we’ll survive. We’re gonna fucking shine, man.”
I chuckled and nodded. “I’ve had so much vodka—light a match and I’ll do more than shine. I’ll ignite like a fucking fireball.”
“You and me both.” Laughing, he leaned forward and slapped me on the arm. “But we better finish up. Big day in the studio tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
But as we downed our last shot, my head thudded. The unknown road ahead spun my mind. We were on the brink of finding out if we’d become one of the biggest rock bands in the world. It was thrilling and terrifying. We could fly or fall. But my heart was pulled in different directions...all because of a girl.
I wanted to see Maddy more often. After being burned in the past, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, especially not before the tour. But something about her kept me going back for more.
How the fuck could we have a relationship when she was based in Vancouver?
I shouldn’t waste my time. I should stop seeing her before we got emotionally involved . . . Problem was . . . I already was. Fuck.
That wasn’t good when too many people depended on this album’s success—Everhide, Ashlem ...and Lewis. He’d given up his life on the East Coast to join us .
I needed to stay focused. On my band. My music. On the months of promo and touring ahead.
Pressure mounted in my temples, twisting and tightening. No. Stop. It’s okay.
Everything would be alright.
I just hoped that when the rocket my band and I were on took off, it didn’t explode and wipe us out.
If the guys and I leaned on each other, we could handle anything.
If we didn’t, I prayed I wouldn’t succumb to pills and powder to survive.