Chapter 6
SLIP
THE PRESENT – MARCH
After checking into my room in Tokyo, I sank onto my bed, exhausted following the ten-hour flight from Vancouver. I texted the guys on our group chat.
Me: I’m here. I’ll see you at dinner. Lobby restaurant, right?
Flint: Yep. 8pm.
Lewis: Good to see you made it.
Cole: How’d it go?
Me: Excellent. Still married. Will tell you everything at dinner.
Dinner was a few hours away. I tossed my cell phone on the mattress beside me and rubbed my tired eyes. Yesterday, Maddy and I’d spent most of our time together on phone calls thanks to the Internet meltdown our Vegas wedding had caused. Our publicists, Jodie and April, hadn’t been happy, but after a few heated what-did-you-do-now words, they’d sent out a fresh respect-their-privacy statement, following Jodie’s initial post. But as if the tabloids and paparazzi would ever do that!
Conversations with our families were even more cutting. My older brothers, Theo, Julian, and Luca, had just laughed. My mother had cried and cursed my soul for not getting married in a church. Not sure she’d ever forgive me for not having a big, over-the-top, Italian wedding. Dad had barely said a word. His silence had hit me with the full force of his shock and disappointment. This wasn’t the first time I’d done something that didn’t meet their approval. I’d thought they’d be ecstatic I was finally married—that was what they’d always wanted...but nope.
Maddy’s mom had been out with friends for lunch. But her tense tone hadn’t been full of cheer and celebration.
“You what?Got married?...Oh, for goodness sake, Maddy. It’s not like you to do something so foolish. Did you honestly think this through? You should be focused on your career, not a relationship.”
Maddy’s stress levels had spiked when her mother had said those things. I’d spent the last hour before I’d had to leave reassuring my wife we’d work things outby doing wicked things to her in bed.
It had taken all my willpower to walk out Maddy’s door and get on the plane. But if the kiss she gave me before I left was anything to go by, we’d be married for this lifetime and the next.
I stretched, bending from side to side, kneading my hip. After the long flight, my lower back ached like someone was digging a blunt knife into it and ramming another one through my hip joint. Worry crept into the back of my mind. We had two back-to-back shows ahead of us, then it was on to Osaka for two more. I couldn’t wait to get on stage. But how could I perform in this much agony? I couldn’t. I needed a solution.
I shot a message to Filipe, the band’s personal trainer and physical therapist.
Me: Urgent. Need a massage. Can you see me now?
Filipe: Sure. What room?
Me: 1402
Filipe: See u in 5.
Then I texted Jade, our tour doctor.
Me: Urgent. Hip not good. I’m in Room 1402.
Jade: Be there in 10 after cup of tea.
My old surfing injury had been okay for years until I’d fallen snowboarding, fourteen months ago at Big Bear. Following that accident, I’d put up with the aches and pains. I’d had countless treatments, injections, lower back nerve blocks and shit needled into my hip joint. On occasion, I drank more vodka than I should to numb the agony. Nothing lasted long. Some days were okay; some weren’t. But since our tour had kicked off three months ago, my lower back had twinged more, and my hip had gradually worsened. It was now at the point of being unbearable. Having a ton of mind-blowing sex with Maddy in Vegas hadn’t helped but that had been worth the temporary heightened level of agony. My hip would calm down. I just needed to take it easy.
I chuckled as I toed off my Adidas sneakers.
Me? Take it easy?
That wasn’t my style.
Go hard or go home.
Hmmm . Going home had some merit . . . I could be with Maddy.
Ten minutes later, I lay stretched out on my stomach in nothing but my red boxer briefs on Filipe’s portable massage table in the center of my hotel room. Jade sat at the desk by the large window, typing notes on her tablet.
Filipe had worked for several NFL teams before we’d hired him for our tour. He was unrelentingly brutal in ensuring the guys and I were fit and took good care of our bodies since we often pushed ourselves to the limit during shows...and in our extracurricular activities. He was hairy as a bear, laughed like a hyena, and had hands as big as a gorilla’s. As agony flared in my hip, there was nobody’s touch I wanted more than his since Maddy wasn’t there.
“Ready?” In his black The Flintlocks Crew sweatpants and T-shirt, Filipe patted my rump and grinned behind his groomed beard. I nodded, rested my folded arms on the front of the table, and stuck my face into the hole. Filipe squished warm massage oil onto my skin. The peppermint smell filled the air as he smoothed the liquid over my aches and pains and then drove his thumbs into my flesh.
“Fuck.” I flinched, bucking as agony shot through my hip, down my butt and along my leg.
“Damn, Slip. You haven’t been this sensitive before.” Filipe didn’t ease up on driving his brilliant but cruel fingers harder into my muscles. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”
“Yep!” I gripped onto the end of the table, digging my fingernails into the padding as Filipe pushed into a pressure point. Pangs coiled across my lower back and up my spine. Every touch hurt like hell, but I’d feel better after his onslaught.
“Slip?” Jade’s voice drifted across the room. “You need to slow down on stage. Not so much jumping around. You have months of shows ahead.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” My voice slithered through my clenched teeth. “After this, can you give me another cortisone injection? They help. And maybe some more pain-killers.”
“Yes, you can have another injection, but you know you can’t have them too often. And pain-killers? You’re already on Tramadol.”
“Jade, the meds don’t work anymore—they’re not strong enough.” Nausea flooded my gut as a simple solution came to mind. “I’ll take it easy for a few days. I promise. Just...give me something stronger to numb this fucker. I need to get some sleep. I hate waking up every few hours in agony.”
“Okay. I don’t like seeing you suffer, but we need to manage this pain correctly and carefully. We’ll try Drizodone, four times a day. It’s a hydrocodone acetaminophen like Vicodin, and stronger than your current meds. I’ll also give you something to help you sleep.”
“Arrrrgh. Yep.” I groaned as Filipe dug his thumb into another sore spot. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. My hip had never been this bad. It used to ache if I ran too far, surfed too long, or partied too much. But it has always gotten better. During previous tours, the guys and I had never pushed ourselves this hard, had such a demanding show schedule, traveled this much, or had to maintain such high levels of fitness. My body wasn’t handling it and I hated it. I was twenty-six years’ old and in utter agony.
Filipe drove his thumbs across the top edge of my hip joint, digging in hard and deep.
I flinched and moaned again.
“I barely touched you, Slip.” Filipe pressed harder. “Don’t be a baby.”
I swiveled my head and hissed over my shoulder, “Fuck you, Filipe.”
“Slip?” Jade leaned forward and folded her arms on the desk. “Have you fallen recently? Injured yourself?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“Okay.” She nodded once. “Something more serious is going on with your hip. So before Osaka, I want to get you to a medical center and have it re-scanned.”
“No. I had scans before the tour. I’ve done nothing other than our shows, sit on planes, and be with Mads. We had a lot of sex...” There was no such thing as too much sex, right? “But nothing I’ve done should’ve caused this much pain.”
She sighed and held up her palms. “Alright. It’s your call. See how it goes over the next week or so. If there is no sign of improvement in two weeks, I’ll drag you to the hospital myself.”
“Deal.” Maybe . . .
She reached into her medical bag and placed a bottle of pills on the desk. “I’ve only got a few meds with me. I’ll get more in the morning. But this is strong medication. You need to be careful and stick to the dosages prescribed. Get a massage every day or two. And for goodness sake, take it easy on stage. You don’t want to keep aggravating that old injury, re-tear it, or worse, end up needing more surgery.”
“Fuck no. I’ll be careful.” I didn’t know how I’d survive the next six months, but I had to. I didn’t want to fall back into old habits. Phil had been on a daily cocktail of cocaine and party pills, and much harder shit than pain-killers. Back then...I hadn’t been as bad as Phil, but I’d been no angel. His death had been a wake-up call to get clean. But every day, I battled the demons that lured me toward another high. The rush of energy, the buzz of love, the wave of euphoria, and the bliss of no pain were constant temptations. Just thinking about the bitter taste of coke sliding down the back of my throat, the electric charge coursing through my veins, and the cool hum in my head had me breaking out in a cold sweat. God, I want a hit. Right fucking now. Fuck!
I hated it when I caved. I loathed myself when I did. But this was different. These drugs were for medical treatment and management. I needed my body to stop hurting. I’d just take these meds until the end of the tour, then I’d stop.
I’d keep the pills under control.
“Alright.” Jade nodded once. “I’ll give you an injection or two. And if the new medication makes you sick in the stomach, gives you headaches, rashes, or fevers, or you have trouble shitting, we’ll try something else.”
“You’re really selling me on these pills, Doc.” I threw her a sly smirk, but then groaned through Filipe’s hard strokes across my lower back. I’d been taking pain-killers for over a year; something a touch stronger wouldn’t hurt. But I wasn’t na?ve, and I was terrified of addiction. I refused to become a statistic.
“Trust me, I sugarcoated the side effects.” Jade’s tone remained level but serious.
“Awesome.” Not.
At the end of Filipe’s thirty minutes of torturous, blissful deep-tissue massage, Jade dug into her medical bag again and pulled out a tiny vial of clear liquid and a syringe. She tore the needle from the packaging, drew the injection, then wiped an alcohol swab over my hip. Normally, I had ultrasound-guided injections, but I trusted Jade to hit the right areas.
“Ready?” She pressed her cold fingertips across my lower back, searching for the most tender spots. I jumped. There . “First, a little sting.”
Little? “ARGH! FUCK, that hurts.” A cruel ache spread beneath my skin as she injected the cortisone, six times, in different spots and into the tops of my hips.
“All done.” She patted my thigh. “Once the local wears off, you’ll ache for a day or two, but then you should feel better.”
“Thank you.” I lay on the table, unable to move. I took a few deep breaths. Once the sting subsided, I sat upright and rubbed the sores. The pain had already eased thanks to the massage and the needles. “Thanks, Filipe. Your hands are magic. Guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”
“That’s why I’m here.” He wiped his oily hands off on a towel.
Jade closed her bag. “Now get some rest, Slip. You have a show tomorrow.”
Yes. We did.
And I wouldn’t miss it .
Once Jade and Filipe left, I grabbed the pain-killers off the desk and walked into the bathroom. I grabbed a glass of water, opened the bottle, and stared at the meds. Memories of Phil filled my head. Him, doing lines of coke at breakfast. Popping pills before a show. Swallowing God-only-knew-what at parties. How skinny and sick he looked before he died. My breath shuddered through my chest. I didn’t want to end up like that. I wouldn’t. Not ever.
These pills were a temporary solution until I got home.
I had too much to live for—my music, my friends...my wife.
I tightened my grip around the bottle. I clenched my teeth and swore to never falter. I’d get this pain under control.
I just needed to dial it down a few notches on stage.
That was easier said than done. But I had to.
I will.
I took a sip of water and swallowed one pill.
Now I had to make it through dinner.