Chapter 40 Elijah
FORTY
ELIJAH
“Times Three, Times Three, Times Three!”
My brother and sister soak in the chants. Usually, I would have to hold back a wince, but keeping my earpiece in helps it not get so loud.
But today, I’m standing here in invisible agony. Are they normally this loud? It sounds like each individual in this arena of fifty thousand fans is holding a megaphone to their mouth and screaming in it.
I feel like the world is spinning in circles, and a sharp pain pierces my entire head.
“We have one more song for you tonight. Let’s make it the best one yet!” Amelia screams behind her sparkly pink drums.
The bass of her drums, which always felt like a high, makes me feel overwhelmed. Like I’m going to crash onstage.
What is going on?
Just from my moment of unease, I miss my timing in the song, fumbling and refusing to glance up at the crowd. Looking just at my strings, I catch up with shaky, sweaty fingers.
Leonidas finishes the song with a high note, walking backward so we can all stand side by side. A spotlight beams down on us, highlighting the sweat on my body—not from heat, but from panic.
“We love you!” Leonidas screams.
Amelia waves, but all I can do is smile.
I can see the headlines.
Is Elijah Drakos high on something?
Does Elijah Drakos hate his brother and sister?
The tabloids love the drama. If they make any one of us look like a villain, they sleep better at night. At a very young age, I realized they would never care how I slept at night.
I miss being in a state where my body can dream, but instead, I’m cursed with sleepless nights.
Running offstage is a blur. Everything feels like it’s in slow motion. My heart is the only thing that’s pounding. I don’t remember falling down onto the floor, but my knees are on the cool concrete.
A cold rag is placed on my forehead, and a hand rubs soothing circles on my back.
“Elijah, tell me what you’re feeling.”
Hearing my favorite voice through this thick fog almost makes me grasp my throat and pull, hoping that will help me breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
“This is a horrible idea. Who let him do this?” Leonidas’s furious voice vibrates in my head, making me wince.
Feeling my twitch, my girl pulls me in closer to her side and peppers kisses on my temple.
“He wanted to do this, Leonidas. Did you expect me to insist he continue taking a medication he had been forced to take in the first place?” Fay argues on my behalf, but beneath the strong layer of authority in her voice is a hint of worry.
“Of course not, but is this even safe?”
“If it wasn’t, his therapist wouldn’t have given him the greenlight.”
“I want to talk to her.”
Groaning, I cup the wet towel on my skin.
“I don’t think she realizes that Elijah gets panic attacks when he tours, and we are on a fucking tour right now!
Is now the appropriate time to get off anxiety medication?
Look at him.” Strong and firm, his voice could cut glass.
“He’s surrounded by triggers. He’s going to give himself a heart attack! ”
“Leonidas, I agree with you, but—”
He pleads brokenly, “Then help him, please!” Hands grip my shoulders, pulling me up. My brother’s arm winds around my shoulders, holding me up, like he usually does.
I look through my hazy vision. Keeping up with his irritated strides is difficult as he leads me to God knows where.
Seeing our dressing room makes the fight drain from my body. Falling onto the couch, I look away from my pacing brother.
“Are you okay, bro?” His voice is strained with worry.
I grit my teeth. His rapid back-and-forth footsteps sound much louder in my head than I know they are.
“I’m fine. It just has to pass,” I whisper, hoping everyone but one person will leave me alone.
“You’re torturing yourself. Maybe you should get off the pills after the tour?”
I’ve been off Xanax for two weeks, and each day, it seems like it’s getting harder and harder and more difficult to ignore the agony prickling away at each of my organs. Yet I’m not going to start taking them again, only to restart this torture in a couple of months.
“I’m not giving up, Leonidas. I’m going through this shit only once.” Throwing my arm across my eyes, I try to block out the world.
“But is this the right time?” he stresses, his voice sounding closer than before.
I mumble, sinking further into the sofa, “Is there really any good time?”
I’m starting to get annoyed now. All I want is some peace and quiet and to avoid any grilling for at least a couple of hours.
“Leonidas, maybe this isn’t such a good time for this conversation,” my saving grace interrupts suddenly from somewhere, leaving no room for argument in her angelic, soft voice.
I hear shuffling.
“I hate seeing him like this, Lily.”
“I do, too, but he’s trying his best.”
Feeling her hands on my face melts the remaining ice that’s clogging up my veins and lets the warmth flow.
“This is just a rough patch, but when he gets over it, he’ll shine.”
I love her.
But not a love that’s starting to bubble and appear, but an inferno that’s spilling over the edges of my heart and drowning me from the inside out.
A love I’m afraid to live without now.
“Can I have a minute alone with him?”
I’m guessing my brother answers her question by quietly leaving the room. When I take my arm off my face, spotlights blind me. Blinking rapidly, I find my Sweet Cheeks sitting on her knees next to me.
“Hi there, nurse. My muscles feel a little tense. I think I need a full-body massage.”
She proves each day that she’s small but mighty. Her little fist hits my shoulder, and I let out an oof at the force behind her punch. I wind my arm around her waist and pull her up so she’s lying on top of me.
“Elijah, what are you doing?! I’m going to crush you right after you nearly had a panic attack!”
“I didn’t nearly have a panic attack,” I point out, not believing my own words. “And shush. You weigh as much as a fruit fly. I need you like this.”
We’re chest to chest. Her body heat becomes mine, and vice versa. No therapy will ever feel like this.
“Tell me what you need.”
I squeeze her tighter. The scent of vanilla coating her luscious locks invades my nose, sending shivers up my spine.
“Just you.”