Chapter 16 #2
Before Mick could head toward the nurses’ station, the nurse who’d kicked us out approached us.
“I need just a minute with you. You can go back in—but I need to ask you to not say anything that will get him riled up. He needs rest, and if you can’t stop yourself from making him upset, I won’t hesitate to ban you from seeing him until this afternoon. ”
“We’ll respect your wishes,” Mick said, using a tone of voice I’d never heard before—suave, professional, and smooth. “But we do have some business to discuss.”
“Okay—but I’m keeping an eye on his vitals, and I’ll kick you out if anything goes amiss.”
Mick nodded and then walked down the hall—and I followed him, a few steps behind.
As we entered Zack’s room again, I prayed that Braden and I hadn’t slowed Zack’s recovery—and that he wouldn’t get upset simply at seeing Mick and me entering his peaceful space.
Based on what he’d said last time, I knew he was hungry for company.
He just wanted us to respect his wishes, and I understood that…
even while agreeing with Braden that Zack’s mother should be notified.
Zack’s eyes were closed again but when he heard Mick’s boots on the floor as we got closer, he opened them.
I couldn’t quite read Zack’s expression, but I thought maybe he felt some contrition for his habit getting out of control.
I’d expected Mick to lay into him, even though he’d told the nurse he’d “behave,” but he didn’t.
Softie Mick made an appearance…and the way he spoke to Zack made me wonder if he had kids, because Mick would have made a hell of a dad. “How you feelin’, kid?”
“I’ve had better days.”
“I’m sure you have.” Mick pulled over a chair and sat beside Zack’s bed next to the monitors. I stood behind him, not wanting to interfere in their conversation but so grateful to see Zack talking.
Zack propped himself up on his elbows so he could sit up a bit. “The label wants to cancel the tour? Why’d you even tell ‘em what happened?”
Mick’s voice was soft. “Son…I know you don’t want to hear this, but you’re one of their assets. If something happens to you, they’re liable. But that’s not all. Even though they care about you as a product, they also care about what happens to you.”
At that, Zack snorted. “Yeah, But only because if we perform like good little monkeys, they’ll make money.”
He wasn’t wrong—that was the feeling I’d had for a long time.
Mick said, “I understand why you feel that way, and I’m not saying you’re wrong—but what about the reason you did this in the first place? Have you already lost your passion for performing? For sharing your music? For moving people with your message?”
Zack was quiet, shifting his focus to his wrist where a needle and tube were taped.
He didn’t reply right away but, when he did, we were riveted.
“No. That’s what makes life worth living—which is why I don’t want the tour canceled.
” He looked up at Mick again. “We have a week off and I can get my shit together between now and then. And I already told Dani and Braden that I’ll go into rehab… but not until after the tour.”
“I get that, but—”
“You know as well as I do that this is the most important time for us to be visible. If we don’t push our new music, who will? The label sure as hell won’t put up any more money, especially if I’m stuck in rehab.”
“You’d be surprised. It’s all on how the PR guys spin it.”
“Shit. Is this already public?”
Mick and I both shook our heads. “Not that I know of. Nobody should know about this. Other than hospital and ambulance staff, it’s the band, me, and that girl you were partying with.
The hotel staff likely knows something happened because they had paramedics in and out, but there’s no guarantee they saw you on the gurney.
I’m gonna have to call and either ask for another day or move us somewhere else, so some bright employee might figure it out.
But that doesn’t matter. I’ve done this long enough to say that you never know when there’ll be a leak—so I had to tell the label.
They need to get out ahead of this shit. ”
“And what’re they gonna say?”
“I have no idea. They might tell the press you had food poisoning or a bad case of the flu—or they might put out their feelers, find out that no one’s talking, and decide not to say shit. But the bottom line is it’s their call, not ours.”
With some resignation, Zack nodded. “Okay, fine. They can tell the press whatever the fuck they want—but let me talk to them. I need to assure them I’ll be good to go on the second leg.”
“I don’t think you should do that right now. Your nurse says you need rest more than anything else.”
“Then I need you to tell them for me.” From where I stood, I could only see the side of Mick’s face, but he’d have to be a block of granite to not be moved by Zack’s plea.
“This shit? It scared me, and I’m not saying that lightly.
I…saw it on Dani’s face. You guys really believed I could have died.
And not remembering anything? Maybe I almost did die—and I’m not ready to do that.
So I’ll go to rehab—I swear to God. I swear on my Grandpa’s grave. Just don’t let them cancel the tour.”
“Okay—I’ll do my best. Just get better, son. Get your rest and get your head on straight and don’t worry about anything else for the time being.”
The nurse appeared again, her face telling us she thought we’d broken our promise. But all she said was “My patient needs to rest.”
Zack said to Mick, “Swear?”
“Yes. Just get some rest and we’ll take care of everything.”
Until I started to follow him, I didn’t realize I’d been chewing my bottom lip in an effort to keep my emotions in check. Zack said, “I’ll be okay, Dani. Don’t worry.”
With a short nod, I forced a smile—but as soon as my back was turned and we were exiting the room, the tears began to drop again.