Chapter 55 Elijah
FIFTY-FIVE
ELIJAH
Turns out, mixing two substances and almost drowning at night is not fun.
Not fun at all.
It’s actually fucking terrifying, to say the least.
But I’m fucking alive, and that’s all that matters.
What does feel a little good is how much attention I’m getting. From everyone offering to fetch me something to eat or drink, to driving me around, and sitting by my bedside to keep me company. Not that I’m ever going to admit this, but feeling loved feels good.
Kinda fucked up, I know.
I’m the littlest sibling after all.
“I’m your mother,” Mom says suddenly, poking her head in the room without any warning.
Jumping, I drop the paperback I’ve been busying myself with on my lap and lose my page. Damn it.
Dumbfounded, I chuckle nervously. “Thanks for clearing that up for me. The meds made me think otherwise.”
“I’m not playing around here.” Stopping at the foot of my bed, she looks down at me, disappointed. “I know how much food I put here. So, why is there food still on your plate?”
“Because I couldn’t possibly fit more chicken in my stomach after having three plates.”
“Food is your strength,” she stresses, gathering the garbage accumulating on my nightstand from my demanded mental rest.
“And I’m eating a lot of it,” I reassure her, picking up my book and trying to find the last page I read.
“I just want you well, agapi mou,” she stresses, sitting at the foot of my bed. “Months of traveling takes a toll not only physically, but mentally. If you need more rest before starting back up, you need to communicate that to Fay.”
“I’m feeling better, Mom.” I sit up, trying to display what’s coming out of my mouth. “If anything, I feel like resting at home is making me more tired.”
She shakes her head. “I would have liked it if you’d stayed in the hospital longer. Their care was the best.”
My mouth drops. “I was there for an entire week. If they’d wanted to keep me longer, I would have broken out.” I laugh like I’m kidding, but I’m not.
I despised lying in that bed for so long. My ass would get numb every hour.
Plus, they kicked Lily out right when visiting hours ended.
That would make me grumpy.
Really grumpy.
“If you feel like you don’t have enough strength, will you voice it?” Raising a brow, she stares me down like she has no faith in my word.
“Cross my heart and hope to die.” I do my cross and flash her a cheeky smile.
But she’s not smiling. She’s frowning actually.
“Too soon?” I tilt my head, bracing myself for the pillow she whips my way. It bounces off the wall overtop my head, but then I yelp when it hits my face.
Her glare shuts me up. “Don’t you dare joke like that. I’m going to have a heart attack.”
I guess it was way too soon. Oops.
“Yes, ma’am,” I chirp, sending her a salute as she walks backward to the door.
The lock clicks quietly as she leaves me alone. I lie back down on my bed, but instead of reading, I throw my arm over my eyes.
“Are you doing okay?” My sister’s soft voice brings me out of a trance.
Not even noticing the door opened, I spot her hovering by the door. I motion for her to come closer. I’m not surprised to see Leonidas right behind her, and both look worried.
“Guys, I’m fine.” I laugh, trying to break the awkwardness. “If I hadn’t been in the ocean and nearly drowned, this wouldn’t have been a big deal.”
“It was a big deal,” Leonidas scoffs, walking to the foot of the bed. Standing all awkward, like he doesn’t know what to say or do.
I hate this.
I’m fine.
“I’m just glad you’re okay. It was quite the scare.”
Seeing Amelia’s intentions of lying on the bed beside me, I scoot over.
She hugs my torso, and a tear trickles down her face. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Me too.” Leonidas sighs, body slouched forward, like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
I hate that I’ve caused everyone unneeded stress.
“Try to forget about that because I’m here and I don’t plan on going anywhere.” I cup her head, and my thumb brushes circles on her scalp. “Let’s talk about something more important … like how we’re going to feel when court is almost over and how our show is canceled.”
Leonidas frowns. Reaching forward, he twists my big toe, making a high-pitched yelp escape my throat. “Let’s get something straight; you will always be more important than any of the things you just mentioned.”
My hand meets my chest. “I’m blushing. Stop it.”
He glares. “And I honestly don’t give a single fuck if we win in court or not. In my eyes, we’ve already won,” he says sternly, sitting near my feet. “We got out and are living our best lives professionally. It’s always going to be a win-win for us.”
“And the concert is already being rescheduled.” Amelia draws a heart on my chest with her long nails. “Our fans support us through thick and thin. This has never happened before, so they know it was necessary.”
“Maybe this happened for a reason.” Leonidas slaps his knees before making his way to the door. “Don’t blame yourself. We are not mad. Okay, bud?”
I nod, unable to form words.
Amelia pulls the sheets to her chest. “Can I take a nap with you?”
I hold her tighter as my answer, needing some comfort only a couple of people can provide me.
After all the chaos I’ve caused—from our most anticipated show getting canceled, which is in the works of getting rescheduled, to the news of my hospitalization all over the internet and our legal battle—my body drags me into the depths of sleep.
With the door locked, all my blinds shut, except for the small lamp shining in the corner, I take deep breaths. My laptop awaits on my desk, the screen already glowing.
A notification pings in the corner of the screen: Your session starts in 1 minute.
I exhale through my nose and run both hands down my face. I rub my eyes, hoping the anxiety for this call magically disappears. I sink into the chair like my body weighs two hundred pounds more since my last call with my therapist.
My guitar sits across the room on its stand, a thin layer of dust covering its beautiful oak.
The screen glitches, then reloads.
“Hi, Elijah. It’s good to see you!” Lillian says too brightly.
I nod once, voice low. “Hey, Dr. Lillian.”
Her smile doesn’t push me. “How are you feeling today?”
I was good an hour ago, until I realized I had this appointment. Talking about my feelings always creeps me out. Like a snake slithering its way to me before latching on my ankle and squeezing its way up my body.
“I’m alive.” I chuckle, twisting a ring around my finger. “But when my head hits the pillow at night, I can’t sleep.” Tapping a finger to my temple, I admit, “It won’t stop.”
She leans closer into the camera. “And what is it thinking?”
I gulp, and my breath hitches. “That I didn’t do it on purpose.”
She tilts her head. “Do what on purpose?”
“Almost overdose and drown at the same time.”
There’s a pause. She’s quiet. Thinking. Observing me. “Is that how you feel? That people think you intentionally tried to overdose?”
I look down, trying to process my thoughts. Yet everything feels like a jumbled mess.
“No, I don’t think anyone who truly knows me would think that,” I begin, clearing my throat that feels like it’s shrunk. “But a small part of me fears that could be a thought in their heads.”
Silence again. Before, “That’s a fear you have, but what’s the truth?”
I swallow hard. “My family believes it was a mistake.”
She writes something down offscreen, but her gaze remains warm.
“Do you believe me?” I blurt, eyes a bit glassy.
She looks up, caught off guard. “Distrust comes from past experiences of someone being dishonest. Which I don’t believe you’ve ever been. So, yes, I do trust you.”
Relief loosens my bones. “Thats good to hear.”
She raises a brow. “Something else is holding you down.”
How can this lady read my soul?
Sitting back in my seat, I cross my arms. “You need to teach me how to read people’s minds.”
“Well, for starters, you’re avoiding eye contact with me and fidgeting, and you have closed-off posture.”
I freeze and then look down in slow motion, like a lion stalking its prey. I find myself unintentionally picking at my nails and fidgeting like I drank a gallon of caffeine.
What the fuck?
“Talk to me. What’s on your mind? Talking may help the stress feel less overwhelming.”
“My girlfriend lost her job because of me,” I blurt out, gulping when her eyes widen in shock.
“Is that a fact or a speculation?”
“They fired her because of her online presence, which is because of me.” I place my arms on my desk, leaning closer to the monitor. “So, yes, it’s the truth.”
“How does she feel about losing her job? Is she angry at you?”
She should be, but considering the fact that she’d been looking for a job for months, landed a position, and gotten fired before she could even start, I’d say she’s in good spirits.
I shrug, not knowing what to say. “She’s not projecting anger toward me.”
“So, maybe there isn’t anything to feel sorry about. Maybe this is something that’s weighing down your shoulders for no reason.” She smiles sadly.
My eyes burn as I try to keep eye contact with her, but, damn it, my eye sockets kill.
I blink, and a sigh escapes my mouth. “That doesn’t change the fact that she lost her job.”
“This job might not have been what was meant for her. Remember, there is always light at the end of the tunnel; hers is coming soon. We just have to be patient and let the magic happen.” With a nod, she scribbles something down.
“But what I do want is to have weekly chats. They’ll be helpful,” she explains softly.
“Especially after your legal battle, all you’ll be left with is feelings. ”
The session continues, slow and careful, like she’s peeling away layers I’ve been hiding.
Something in my chest softens.
“I have fantastic news!” Fay runs into the room, a shit-eating grin on her face. “I don’t think you’re ready for this.”
“I’m on the tips of my toes,” Leonidas says, tuning my guitar for me. I tried doing it myself, but he wouldn’t let me.
“The lawyer we hired to be present in court for your legal representation informed me that the judge seems to be swaying more on our side. All the documents you guys accumulated over the years are helping you win this.” She bounces to the other side of the room and drops down on the couch beside Amelia.
“The judge scheduled a court hearing in five days. I’m speculating it’s going to be the last one. ”
“We have a good chance of winning?” All the torture they’ve inflicted on us flashes in my head.
“I would say we have a ninety percent chance of beating the old record label. Their evidence changes each court hearing. It doesn’t align or make any sense.
Some of it is plain old childish. Our lawyer informed me they’re hurting themselves by acting like fools in court. Screaming, yelling, and even crying.”
She starts laughing, Amelia joins in, and the two start dancing in their seats.
I’d do anything to be present in that courtroom in five days, just to see their faces when we finally make it on top and get the justice that we deserve. We don’t even care about the large sum of money we’ll get. All we want is justice.
Regaining her composure, she drags a hand down her torso, straightening her pencil skirt after standing. “Enough of that. How is the acoustic practice going? Do you think you’ll be ready for the small performance in”—she checks her tablet—“two days?”
“We’ve run through the set ten times, and the last three were perfect,” Leonidas calls out, sitting on the other side of the room, adjusting his microphone stand.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Fay types something down before slapping her tablet to her chest with excitement. “The tickets will go on sale tonight at twelve. Make sure you acknowledge when you post that this is a small charity event being held before the actual concert. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
The intimate charity event was my idea. A small statement felt too impersonal after the actual reason behind the cancellation of the show.
The thought of hosting an acoustic set that would take all the proceeds and donate them to a mental health service, ensuring everyone got the help they needed, was the only thing I could think about throughout my entire hospital stay.
When she heard my idea, she loved it.
The planning started immediately.
“I think I have a crush on you.” Lily swoons, lost in a trance. Lying on her belly on our makeshift stage and swinging her feet back and forth.
Resting my guitar on the stand, I smile down at her. “I think I’m in love with you.”
Narrowing her cute eyes, she jumps up, crosses her arms, and acts all upset. “You think you’re in love with me?” She drags out the word think.
“Ask me how I know I’m absolutely smitten with you. Go on.”
I smile down at her cranky face. The two front pieces of her hair cradle her rosy cheeks.
“How do you know you’re in love with me?” she mumbles, raising a perfect brow.
Closing any remaining distance, I whisper so the crew working around us can’t hear, “Every day, I hold back the urge of carrying you to a church and making you my wife.”
Her plump pink lips pop open.
“You always know the right things to say to me.” She groans, accepting she lost this playful battle.
Winking, I peck a kiss on the tip of her nose. “I write love songs; that’s nothing, Sweet Cheeks.”
“Let’s do the sexting later,” Leonidas says, strolling onstage with a smirk. “Right now, we need to run through the set one final time.”
I’m going to strangle him.