64. Rosalie
SIXTY-FOUR
ROSALIE
I rushed off the stage, Anson calling out to me. I had to get to Ethan. I’d seen his panic attack start. He needed me.
“LeeLee, hey!” Anson grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop. “Hey. You need to be back onstage in five minutes?—”
“Fuck the stage. Ethan needs me. I’m going to him.”
Anson released my hand, a frazzled look on his face. He gave me a nod.
“I’ll see if we can stall. You’re the solo for the next part. Just hurry, OK?”
I nodded before dashing away. I knew he’d go into the bathroom. Within moments, I pushed open the door to find the guys at his side as he rocked on the floor. Cole’s arm was around him as Ethan cried softly.
“What’s wrong?” I went to my knees before Ethan, my heart breaking. I hated seeing him this way. He’d been getting better. What changed?
“Ethan?” I reached for him.
It was immediate.
He tugged me onto his lap and clung to me, his fingers tangled in my hair.
“I don’t wan-want to disappoint you. I don’t w-want to ruin-ruin your night. I-I love you. I’m s-s-sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”
“Shh,” I murmured, hugging him. “You’re OK. I’m here. Everything is fine.”
He shook harder, his breathing picking back up.
“E, man, come on,” Fox said gently. “Breathe, brother. Breathe with me.”
It was a losing battle. He was too far gone. I knew Cole would have to drug him.
Enzo even nodded to Cole to do it. Cole reached into his jacket pocket, but before he could pull anything out, the bathroom door banged open, and Anson strode inside. He went straight to Ethan and gripped him by the face, making me shift aside.
“Look at me,” Anson commanded softly. “Open your mouth.”
Ethan continued to hyperventilate. I managed to slip off his lap as Cole reached forward to grab Anson.
This was a damn disaster. Fox was quick to intervene. Enzo grabbed me and pulled me away, probably to keep me from getting hurt should Cole lash out like I knew he would. It would be a blood bath if Fox couldn’t hold him back.
Anson shoved something into Ethan’s mouth. It took all of a moment for Ethan to get himself together. His breathing immediately slowed, but his face was twisted in horror as he gagged.
“Breathe,” Anson instructed in a gruff, no-nonsense voice. “Don’t you dare fucking spit that out.”
“What the fuck did you give him?” Cole snarled, trying to break away from Fox, but Fox held him tighter. “Don’t you fucking put shit into his mouth. I’ll fucking kill you for touching him. No one fucking touches him but us?—”
Anson glared at Cole quickly. “Shut your fucking mouth, Scott. I’m sick of your shit. I’m trying to help. This is a big fucking night for LeeLee. She deserves to be on stage, showing those fucking scouts what she’s capable of. I’m. Fucking. Helping .”
Cole went silent but continued to glare at Anson, who put his attention back on Ethan.
“Hey,” Anson said gently. “Ethan. Talk to me.”
“I don’t like lemon,” Ethan whispered in a shaky voice. “I don’t like lemon.”
“Sorry. It’s the worst of them all, which makes it the best.” Anson continued to hold Ethan’s face in his hands.
I gripped Enzo’s arm tighter. He hadn’t moved an inch. He was stiff and tense. There would be no way I could hold him back if he attacked. Fear rushed through me.
“Keep breathing. Gentle. In and out. You’re OK. Whatever was happening is over now. You’re going to be OK. You know why?” Anson asked, his words soft and gentle. “Because you’re a fucking fighter, E. The best of the best. You got this, man. Believe me?”
Ethan nodded wordlessly, tears on his cheeks. His breathing had slowed significantly.
“I-I don’t like lemon,” he whispered again.
Anson offered him his hand. “Spit.”
Ethan spat the contents of his mouth into Anson’s hand.
“I’m going to Rosalie out of here and back to the stage. She has to perform with a group. When this is over, we will go out and have a drink, dance, and celebrate for her. You can sit backstage if you want. I’ll set everything up for you.”
“I-I’d like that,” Ethan whispered.
“Perfect. Fox, bring him backstage, OK?” Anson looked to Fox.
Fox nodded wordlessly. Anson got to his feet and approached me before holding his hand out to Enzo. Enzo opened his hand for him, and Anson dropped what appeared to be three yellow candies onto his palm.
“Warheads,” Anson said softly. “Lemon. The sour shocks the system and pulls people out of panic. I’ve carried them on me since I learned Rosalie panics sometimes. Maybe you should get some.”
He didn’t wait for Enzo to answer. Instead, he took me by the hand and led me out of the bathroom and backstage.
“Anson, what you did?—”
“Shh. It needed to be done. I can’t let your dreams go to waste because he struggles. That’s his struggle, LeeLee. It can’t be yours. It sounds harsh, but he needs to be the one to work on it. You can’t save him all the time.”
Tears prickled my eyes.
“I know, but it hurts me.”
“I know, darling. I know it does, but sometimes, he needs to deal on his own. Or with the guys. He won’t hate you for it. The guy is head over heels for you. I promise you that.”
I nodded, my throat tight. I knew Ethan was ride-or-die for me. I was for him, too, so leaving him when he needed me was hard.
Anson cradled my cheek for a moment before walking away. I watched as he set up a spot for Ethan and Fox to sit for the next part of the program.
“I’m sorry,” Ethan’s soft voice carried out as Fox walked in with him. Ethan’s eyes were rimmed in red, and I could tell he was high. He’d probably escaped to the bathroom to give himself his sugar to hold off his attack.
“It’s OK,” I murmured, squeezing his hand.
“I love you,” he said, his voice soft.
“I love you, too. Anson has a spot set up for you guys. You’ll be able to see everything.” I glanced from Fox, who gave me a sad smile, back to Ethan. “Are you OK?”
“Y-Yeah. I’m fine. I’m just… high.”
I sighed and backed away. “I have to go, but please, just…”
I didn’t know how to finish the sentence, so I left Fox to handle Ethan, even though everything within me wanted to rush back, hold him, and tell him how much I loved him.
I didn’t, though.
Because, as I was fast learning, the show must go on.