Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
MIA
My head is pounding when consciousness calls. Although it’s more of a summons than a call, and it blares through my fatigue with bright sunlight and a competing need to drink water and vomit.
I groan and inhale deeply. I fucked up. This much I know. But at this point, I’m not sure how badly.
My eyelids flutter open. They’re the only part of me I’m willing to move right now. Whatever I’m laying on feels unfamiliar enough that I need to know where I ended up after drinking so much. The last thing I really remember is doing shots with… the lead singer of some pop punk band I can’t remember the name of now.
I’m in our tour bus, and Leo is sitting across from me on his bottom bunk, phone in hand, not realizing I’m awake just yet. The smell of bacon and pancakes hits me then and sends my stomach churning.
Oh god. I sit up—bad idea—and stumble past Leo to the bathroom. I’m vaguely aware of Noah at the small table and Aiden at the kitchenette cooking. Luckily, I make it to the toilet in time and heave.
Fuck me. When it’s over, I clean up and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Yesterday’s makeup, runny and worn, judges me far harder than my own disappointed glare. I wash my face quickly and prepare for whatever further judgment awaits me on the other side of this door. We’re one day into Knotty Tour and I’ve already accomplished everything I was told not to do.
Maybe Mom and Dad are right. Maybe this isn’t the life to live.
I open the bathroom door slowly. In the time I’ve been in there the rest of my pack has seated themselves at the small table beside Noah with only one place left open for me. Coffee, orange juice, pancakes, and bacon have been placed at each setting.
Aiden’s stern gaze is the one that hits me first. “Sit.”
Leo looks similarly pissed, although I can’t tell if it’s solely at me because he keeps shooting looks at Noah, too. I don’t even think I was with Noah for most of last night so what the hell did he do?
I nod jerkily and sit where directed. I hate how much this feels like disappointed parents catching me sneaking back home and a lot less like an angry pack leader upset at having to take care of his omega. But that’s probably because I was just thinking how pissed my parents are going to be if they hear about this. Not because I’m not an adult, but because they already hated I wanted this to begin with.
“I’m sorry.” The words come out nearly a whisper as I sit next to Leo. Aiden is sitting beside Noah on the other side of the table. Leo’s hand instantly touches my thigh gently, like a subconscious motion to soothe and connect.
Aiden holds up a strip of bacon between two fingers. I don’t know if he intends it to be comical, or if he really wants to make this point but forgot to grab a fork. “No more apologies from anyone in this pack, especially you.”
“But I?—”
“Drank entirely too much last night, yes,” Leo answers for me. “Aiden at one point questioned if we should bring you to an ER.”
My eyes go wide. A small smile from embarrassment forms and I scoff. “I don’t think it was that bad.”
Noah sips his coffee. Dark circles hang under his eyes as he squints at the sunlight peeking through the windows. “I didn’t think so either, but given I was also inebriated at the time, I don’t think I’m the best judge.”
“No, you’re not,” Leo states in such a curt tone that Noah makes a show of shoving his mouth full of pancakes instead of saying anything more.
Aiden drops the strip of bacon back onto his plate and points to both Noah and I with his finger instead. “You two want to drink and party? Fine. But know that you do so at your own risk and that of the band. Leo and I aren’t here to be your parents or your band manager or your PR team. But we are the most experienced in the industry and the touring world, so you need to listen to us on this.”
My chest squeezes tight, but not from nausea. It’s remorse. I let them down yesterday during the show and then all night after. And instead of recovering and planning to do better today, I was the reason they’d spent half the night awake.
It was everything Wes warned me against from the start. Sable, too. Oh hell. Sable’s probably messaged me to no reply all night. She’s probably seen videos of the show, of the crowd booing us. I hold in a groan as Leo adds to Aiden’s comments.
“The partying scene of Knotty Tour in particular is harsh,” Leo says. “One night for an hour, maybe two, every few stops would be fine. But trust me, you don’t want to be involved with more than that. Not everyone’s so happy-go-lucky, and more than a few are out to start shit in hopes it stirs their sales—a real any PR is good PR mindset.”
Aiden looks to everyone in turn but Leo and Noah already give the impression they’ve heard his next words. Probably last night when I was blacked out. “Our focus is performing and writing the record we’re due to give Wes. Any celebrations we want to have, we can do it here in our tour bus. But no one’s crashing out on my watch.”
“Or mine,” Leo adds. His jaw is locked tight, his eyes narrowed. Throughout most of this conversation the hand not holding my thigh has been flipping his cellphone over and over on the table. The anxious motion holds my attention for longer than it should.
“Everyone understand?” Aiden asks.
Leo nods.
“Yeah,” Noah mutters. “Last night won’t repeat, I promise.”
Aiden’s verdant gaze settles on me. “Mia?”
I want to run. Genuinely, that is my first instinct. What an idiot they must think I am. A viral sensation gets a real chance at a full band, first tour, everything—and I ruin it on the first night so badly, they’ve got to stop me from drowning in my own vomit.
It’s all such a far cry from the Juilliard graduate life of classical performing arts my parents wanted for me that I all at once want to do nothing but profusely apologize to them. Clearly I’m not cut out for what I wanted, and I burned all the bridges toward what they wanted for me.
“Mia?” Aiden asks again, concern wrinkling his brow.
“I’m—” I catch myself at the last second and remember Aiden’s words. No more apologies. I pull in a quick breath and start again. “I realize I have a drinking problem. I know reaching for alcohol when I’m down or pissed isn’t the right move, and I shouldn’t have done it last night of all nights.”
It’s close enough to an apology that I wait to see if Aiden has other words for me. He holds my gaze, an expectant eyebrow raised while he waits for me to continue. “I won’t do it again.” But I know I will. I always do, no matter how much I say I won’t. “Wes knows. Sable was worried about this.”
Tears threaten to spill. My cheeks warm as I try to hold them back. But I’m not a victim in this. I did this to myself, and I do it time and time again, and I’m just angry that I do.
I shake my head. “I’m committed to Exit Fate, I want you all to know that’s my number one priority. And the pack second. But you should also know that aside from you, Wes, and Sable, no one else in my life wants this for me. It’s creating a pressure to do well, to prove to my parents that I have even a shred of an idea of what I’m doing in life. That I can support myself. If Exit Fate fails, they’ll cut me off for good. So when yesterday went poorly, yeah, I went off the deep end.”
The tears fall now as I arrive closer to my point. “I need help dealing with this.” Not this exact thing. Not my parents and their ultimatums. Not performing well. “I need help finding other ways to deal.”
Noah’s face falls first. Of all of my alphas, he is the most like me when it comes to partying and drinking and coming from the Juilliard life. I wonder how much he struggles with all of this, too.
Leo’s hand on my thigh tightens. “We’ve got you, Mia. We always will.”
“You didn’t run last night, at least.” It comes out far more dismissively than I mean it to.
Aiden chuckles dryly. “Hardly the first time we’ve all helped a drunk friend. You’ll be okay. Have breakfast, though, because we’re practicing until our set.”
Noah groans and gets up to grab his water bottle. “Going to be a long morning.”
“And this is why we won’t be drinking like that anymore while on tour,” Aiden points out.
Leo’s gone back to flipping his phone over and over again.
“Everything okay?” I ask. Maybe it’s just some nervous habit.
Leo looks to his phone and then back to me. “Yeah, just…” He shifts a little in his seat. “Transparently, I had some nerve pain flare up yesterday. I’m okay now, though.”
“Oh, my god.” I was out there drinking until I couldn’t remember anything, and Leo was actually suffering. “Are you sure you’re okay now?”
He slowly lifts his arm. He doesn’t wince in pain, but I can tell on his suddenly tight features that he was expecting to. “Yeah. I’m going to take it easy, that’s all.”
Aiden nods to him. “Drumsticks only. I know you’re good for it.”
Leo nods. And thank god, because if drumming is what really set off a nerve flare, then Leo definitely needs to not do that.
It’s then as I look at my pack—my band—that I realize we’re all about two steps from falling apart entirely.
Noah must realize it, too, because he gestures with a flourish. “One night won’t ruin everything we’ve been working on. We all know that. So let’s just do our best today, okay? Hangovers be damned.”
Easier said than done. His hangover must not be as astoundingly bad mine. I lift my cup of coffee in agreement. “Hangovers be damned.”