by N Kuhn
A nurse comes in, and quickly instructs me to lie still. I can feel the tugging and pulling as the tube scratches its way out of my throat. I try not to gag.
“You’ll be sore and it will be rough to speak for a while. Drink lots of water. It will help,” she instructs me. Laying there looking at the ceiling, I can only nod, or shake my head to answer. Next, I feel her pulling the blankets up and a sharp pain rushes through my cock.
“That’s just the catheter honey. You’re ok now. If you need to pee, there will be a canister. Just press the nurse call button, ok?” She rushes out of the room, and I’m thankful that the embarrassment didn’t last any longer.
The doc pushes the button next to my head, and I feel the bed rise, putting me into a sitting position. This is ridiculous. It’s not like I took that much drugs. Just a little here and there to keep the edge off. Now I’m being treated like a criminal. As the Doctor exits my room, Stacey brushes past him. Looking up at me, a devilish grin spreads over her face.
“How you doing big boy?” she asks me, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I feel like shit. How much of that crap did I take?”
“Not too much, but this shit I got is a lot stronger than what we have at home in Buffalo. B-Lo has nothing on LA man. Here, you want a pick me up?” Stacey pulls my cross necklace out of her purse. She must have seen the confused look on my face, because she quickly undoes it, bringing a scoop of white powder towards my face.
“Where did you get that? It’s mine, it never leaves my body,” I say to her, my voice throaty and rough, “Hand me that water.” She puts the cup to my lips and I sip on it.
“Here, want a sniff now?” she asks.
As much as I do, my common sense kicks in. I could have died, that doctor said. I can’t afford to lose my music career before it even starts.
“I took it off of you before the cops came. I thought you would be happy I didn’t leave it there.”
“Are you stupid?” I ask her. She stares at me blankly. Her once beautiful eyes now look shallow and rimmed in black. “I’m in the hospital from an overdose, you dumb bitch. Leave my necklace on the side table, and get the hell out of here you druggie bitch. Duke was right. You just spend my money on drugs all the time, and party it up. I mean nothing to you, except a good time. Get the fuck out of here.” My finger finally finds the nurse call button and I begin furiously pressing it. As a nurse hurries into the room, she looks from me to Stacey and back again.
“Something you need Travis?” The woman is older, most likely a grandmother, and has a real easy way about her. She comes over to stand next to me in a motherly fashion, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced. No one has ever acted like they want to protect me. I missed out on all that stuff with my mother. She never cared.
Looking at her name tag, it says Belinda.
“Belinda, Stacey was just leaving. Would you please be a darling and show her the way out? And if you happen to run into my father or manager in the hall, I’d like to see them please?” I try to smile at her, but my whole body hurts, from head to toe. My throat constricts and instead of smiling, I cough. Reaching up with some water for me, she allows me a few sips, then sidles up to Stacey. Grabbing her arm forcefully, she drags the still stunned girl out of my room. From the hallway, I hear metal clanging as Stacey begins throwing a fit. Her screams reach my ears. Closing my eyes, I listen.
“You small dick mother fucker. You’re worthless, you loser. You’ll never be anything. And your dad was better in bed then you, limp dick. You’ll pay, you will pay me, or those photos will be everywhere. You think you’re so perfect Trav? I have all the originals. Me and Jeremy. You’re fucked. What does your little girlfriend Brittany think of them? I sent them to her too.” Why is it that the women in my life always say that? Is it that they know something I don’t, or do they just know that those words will hurt me the most? It takes me a few minutes to realize that she said Brittany saw the photos. In the pit of my stomach, a dull ache emerges. Laughter causes me to open my eyes, and Marcus stands in the doorway watching the commotion going on out there.
Trying to clear my throat to get his attention, I start coughing again. Looking over at me, the humor that sparkled in his eyes a moment ago is replaced by something I can’t put my finger on. Slowly, he makes his way to my bedside.
“You sure picked a feisty one Trav,” he says, patting my leg.
“Can we see about getting these off me pop?” I plead, acknowledging the restraints.
“I’ll ask son. You ok?” he asks me sincerely. For a man who’s been absent most of my life, he seems to care about me more than my mother ever has. She always said he would only use me and throw me away. But, I’m not her.
“Yea, I guess. When can I get out of here? I want to get this rehab shit done, so I can get back on tour.”
“That’s my boy,” he pats my shoulder. “I’ll talk to Duke. We’ll get you going somewhere we’re familiar with. The sooner we can get you back on the road the better. We can all make some money then. The press got a hold of this story. Publicity is always good, no matter what it is. Everyone knows your name now.” That’s just great. The two main stories I’ve been part of are getting arrested for assault and now a drug overdose. If I wasn’t a bad boy before, Duke should be happy that in the eyes of the public I am now.
“Did you really sleep with my girlfriend dad?” I ask him, unable to look him in the eye. I can’t bear to see the look on his face.
“Son, she was a worthless whore. She’s not worth your time. There will be so many chicks throwing themselves at you, and me, it won’t matter.” Finally able to look up, he has this odd smirk on his face. Fingering my necklace that’s on the table, he sees me staring. The smile falls from his face.
“I remember when I gave this to you. Your first tour with me. You were what, sixteen? Seventeen? I can’t believe you still have it, and it’s full,” his loud boisterous laugh fills the room. He sniffs a line, right there in front of me, as I’m lying here recovering from an overdose. Why are the people in my life so messed up? I don’t want to end up like them. Tucking it into his pocket, he says, “I’ll make sure the nurses and doctors don’t find this. The police were here earlier wanting to know where you got the drugs. We just took care of it son. I’ll be back in the morning and we’ll figure out which center to send you to, and try to get this crap over with.”
“Don’t forget to ask the nurse to take these off,” I yell after him, as he hurries from the room.
Left alone, I can only sit here and think. He must not have stopped to talk to the nurses or doctor, because no one comes to undo me. My mind drifts to Britt. I wonder what she’s doing with her life now, where she is. She’s probably still hot, and married to some rich punk ass her parents picked out for her. I’m sure she did it to make them happy. It would have never worked out between us anyways. I was never good enough for her. Until now, I never had the money to keep her in the lifestyle she needs. Nice things, fancy cars, jewelry. All the things she deserves in life. Maybe one day when I’m famous and can give her what she needs, I’ll look her up, even if just for a night of reminiscing.
Waking again, I feel a hand in mine. Looking over I think I’m still dreaming. Brittany sits there. Her long blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Staring at me, she looks worried.
“I’m dreaming of my muse, my angel, Britt. You’re so beautiful. One of these days I’ll call you and tell you how much I miss you.” I whisper. Her cheeks redden.
“You’re not dreaming Trav. I’m here. I’ve been so worried about you. I was there, when you collapsed.” Suddenly, I try to sit, but am unable to, due to the restraints. Awareness seeps in. She’s here, really here.
“What are you doing out here? Why my concert?” my voice still sounding raspy and hurting my throat with each word.
“I was worried about you. Bent came to see me, said you weren’t doing well. Stacey is no good for you. She will only drag you down, use you. She�
�s no good Trav. You really had me scared there for a while. They wouldn’t let me see you. I had to bribe a male nurse. I may have promised him a look at my tattoo.” She smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I know, things suck right now.” hanging my head. I can’t manage to look her in the eyes. Thoughts of what Stacey said pop into my head. The photos. She’s seen them.
“You’re going to rehab?” she questions me. I can hear the concern in her voice and it confuses me. The last time we spoke, she basically called me scum. Which I had been. Nodding, I still can’t bring myself to look at her.
“Heard you were going to law school. Good for you. It’s about time you did something other than live off of your parents.” Finally gaining the courage to look at her, she’s smiling. I’m doing everything I can to not bring up the photos, and they don’t seem to be bothering her, so I let it go.
“Yea. You know, dropped some baggage and moved on. Some girl friends and I came out here to see you. I thought I was prepared, that it wouldn’t affect me, but it is.” I can see the tears glistening in her eyes. She reaches over and grabs my hand.
“Heard you were dating some Abercrombie and Bitch boy.” Another laugh, tears finally fall from her eyes.
“Yes, Aiden. He’s been great. He’s nice, my parents love him. I don’t know, he’s been weird lately though.” I know she’s lying. That’s one thing I was good at while we were together. Reading her. But I don’t call her on it.
“Well, hopefully he treats you better than I did. You deserve better.”
“He’s still not you in bed though.” Uncontrollable laughter bursts from my mouth and I can’t stop it.
“No one is Britt.”
Playfully smacking my arm, she giggles.
“I miss you.” Before I could even stop them, the words tumbled out of my mouth. I meant them, but there’s also no way she’s going to take me back. Not after everything I did, and she’s got some great guy, a future.
“I miss you too Trav. Well, I have to get back to my friends. Our flight leaves in a few hours. Get better, ok? I want to keep seeing you in magazines, and hearing you on the radio.”
“I wrote ‘Comin at you Girl’ for you.”
“I remember. It’s great. Stay away from Stacey please? You were already arrested for her, now this. I’m not stupid Trav. I know that you weren’t this bad with drugs before her. You don’t need them or her. And try shaving.” Truly, I’m speechless. I have no clue what I can say to that. So I just lay there, watching Brittany walk out of my life again. Silently, I promise myself and her that I will go to rehab, get better and do what I love. Music.
Chapter 9
Travis Rehabbing the Addict
“Travis, I’m so proud of you. You’ve really grown during your time here, and I hope that this will help you not only succeed in life, but your career as well. You don’t have to use drugs or alcohol to do well.” Brandon, my drug counsellor has been my rock, my anchor throughout my time here at Whispering Wind Rehab. Situated in the Southern Tier, amid rolling hills, a short drive from Buffalo, it was just what I needed. Walking out of here, my head is clear, my life is back on track and I’m ready. Instead of the normal thirty days, because of my collapse and overdose, they put me here for ninety days. One thing bothering me though, during family counselling, neither of my parents showed. My dad, he’s on tour, I can understand that. But my mother, she’s an hour away from me and couldn’t make it, couldn’t come help me get better. Rubbing my hand over my face, I had decided to shave it all off. Smiling to myself, I think of Brittany. I’ve thought a lot about her lately. One of our recovery steps is to make amends. Of all the people in my life, Brittany deserves that the most. She’s going to be my first stop when I get back to Buffalo. Bentley is coming to get me, and told me that she is home for the summer. Sebastian and Max have been busy practicing and trying to keep up with all the band promotions while I’ve been here. Since Bentley isn’t with the band anymore, he’s got more free time. He’s been the only one to visit me while I was here. I probably don’t deserve his friendship, support or kindness, but I’ve latched onto it. Like a life saver, he’s been there for me, no questions asked.
Watching him pull up, I feel the smile spread across my face.
“Look at you baby face. What’s up?” Getting out, he comes over and hugs me. Dressed in his usual attire, polo, khakis and flip flops. I’ve never understood why Bent liked hanging with us. He’s always clean cut, and the rest of us, well, we were rockers through and through.
“Hey man, yea, it’s time for a change or two. Plus, thought Britt would be happy to see it’s gone, to see I’m making changes. Even if it’s something small like this.”
“Well, I like it. It looks great. I can actually see your face.” Climbing into the SUV, I smile the whole way back to town. I can’t wait to see Britt. Stacey has been trying to reach me the whole time I’ve been here. The first time we talked, she told me that I had to keep my promise and take her back when I was done here. Her apologies for the photos were empty. Claiming Jeremy forced her to do it, I can’t believe that shit. I still haven’t told Duke, or decided what to do about it. She went on to tell me about all the great partying I was missing, and that she was going to be evicted because she couldn’t pay rent. She also advised me that Bas told her she could move into our place. That is not happening. Bas and I got in a huge fight about it, and then I ignored the rest of her calls. Britt is right. I don’t need Stacey or her baggage. She wasn’t even that good in bed, at least what I can remember. We were high all the time, so that part of my life is one huge blur. She’s just going to drag me down. Most of her recent voicemails have told me that she will get me back, or I will regret it. That most likely means the photos will be released. I honestly don’t care anymore. It doesn’t mean anything to me. She’s nothing. I’m sure Duke can spin it somehow. There’s not much more that woman can do to me, than what she already has. I could have died from the cocktails we were taking.
When we pull up to Britt’s, she’s sitting outside on the porch. Looking a vision in her short brown sun dress, her golden blonde hair billowing out behind her. She stands and rushes over to the truck.
“Hey there, I like,” reaching in the open window, she rubs my face. Her big beautiful smile widens. Stepping back so I can get out, she rushes to hug me before I can even close the door. With her arms wrapped tight around me, I feel at home. Safe, and loved, something I’ve been missing my whole life. The counsellors said that is most likely what I’ve been seeking the whole time. Each high was a way to feel more secure. Apparently I have mommy and daddy issues. Go figure. Seeing the door to the house open behind her, Rose steps out onto the porch. My heart skips a beat. Her parents have never liked me, and I’m sure all the press about my over dose and rehab are the only thing she’s thinking of now. Well, that and how to get her daughter away from me again. Her curt smile is more for show, than happiness to see me and I get it. I was never nice to her. Letting go of Britt, I walk over to the house.
“Rose, I just wanted to say how sorry for everything I put you and your husband through. Brittany as well. She is amazing and deserves so much better. But I should have given you more respect than I did.” Hanging my head in shame, I look at my feet, shoving my hands in my pocket.
“It’s nice to see you cleaned up Travis. I really hope that things get better for you now.”
As I raise my head to look at her, she’s smiling, a real smile, holding her arms out for me. I don’t think that in all the years I have known the Landers family, that Rose has ever shown any affection towards me. Rushing at the opportunity, I allow her to embrace me. It’s strange, feeling affection from someone I’m not sleeping with. I’ve never had maternal love. This is a glimpse of all I’ve been missing. Letting me, go, she smiles at Britt and heads back into the home. Sitting down on the steps, I need a moment to catch my breath. This is odd, but nice. Never before have my thoughts been clearer. Britt comes to
sit next to me, and Bent leans against the porch.
“So, how was it? How do you feel?” she asks me, placing her hand on my leg.
“I feel, better than I ever have before. It’s, I don’t know how to explain. My head is clear, I’m not shaking, or tired. I just feel, real I guess. The whole thing was hard. Trying to overcome the need, the urges. Trying to move on with my life and realize I don’t have to use to do things I want. There was a lot of talking, therapy. That’s why they had me there three months instead of one, and I am so glad I stayed. There were times, days that I felt, I gotta get out of here. But sticking with it, I’m actually very proud of myself.”
“I’m proud of you too.” She pulls me in for another hug.
“Have you been to see your mom? She’s not doing so well,” she asks me quietly. I wish people would stop saying that to me. It’s not like I made her sick, and she’s done nothing to be there for me, why should I do that for her?
“No, I’m not going to either. She hasn’t been involved in my life more than just demanding what I do or don’t do. I’m over it. She wants to see me, she can reach out to me. I asked her to come to my counseling and she never showed up. It took a lot for me to even ask that of her, knowing she would just come and be judgmental. She couldn’t even show, never even returned my calls.”
“Maybe she was too sick to travel? Trav, she looks bad.”
“Again, she could have shown up or responded. She never even called me back. I’m over it.” Sighing, Britt lays her head on my shoulder, placing her hand on my leg. It feels right, like I’m where I should be.
