My Rock #4 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #4) (4 page)

“I’m done,” I said, brushing past him on the way
out. He gave me a wide berth. They all acted like they were afraid of me or
something, bunch of damned pussies. Feeling like one myself, I finally made my
way down the hall to the producer’s office. I was stalling because I knew it
was going to be about the meltdown. I didn’t know what I was going to tell
them. There was nothing that would really explain it, except for the truth. I
knocked on Clint’s door and found him and Tony waiting inside for me.

“Hello, Tristan,” Clint said, standing up and
shaking my hand, “You know Tony?”

“Yeah,” I said, nodding at the other fool.

“Have a seat,” Clint told me. I would have rather
stood, but I was trying hard today not to be an asshole. I was pretty sure I
was already on shaky ground. I sat down and he said,

“We have to talk about what happened on the show the
other night.” He paused there, expecting me to say something, I think. I
didn’t, I just waited him out. I wondered if they were disappointed America
hadn’t voted me off. It would have saved them from having to confront me. He
finally said, “We can’t present the image to America that we’ll tolerate that
kind of behavior. You were rude and crude and the judges who have been so
supportive of you didn’t deserve to be talked to that way. Most of what you
said had to be bleeped out because of the profanity laced into it. It was bad,
Tristan, real bad. Beyond that, I’ve gotten other complaints as well. You don’t
show up for group rehearsals, you lip sync the songs with your peers….I have to
tell you that if that happens again, any of it….you’ll be let go from the
show.”

“Okay,” I said. My mouth was dry and my hands
shaking, but most of that could still have been withdrawals.

“Tristan,” Clint said, leaning in towards me, “Is
there something else going on with you? Is there anything we can do here to
help you? You’re a very talented young man. I would so hate to see you blow
this.”

Fuck! I hated talking about my shit to complete
strangers. I think I might have felt better thinking they did want me to get
kicked off. But this was my one chance…my golden opportunity to tell them I was
going into rehab, and hopefully they would be willing to help me…..maybe even
financially.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to act like a human. “I
have a drug problem,” I blurted out. Clint didn’t look surprised at all. Tony
shifted in his seat, but he wouldn’t look at me. Some people are more
uncomfortable talking about drugs than they are sex. “I signed up for rehab; it’s
a nice place in Orange County and comes highly recommended. I’m having a hard
time coming up with enough money to start. I was also afraid that I wouldn’t be
able to finish the show if I went in. I know that it’s hard for you to see
it….because of my attitude…but I’ve put a lot of myself into this contest. I
don’t want to blow it. I’ve been trying to kick the drugs on my own in the
meantime….but as you have seen, it affects me in a lot of ways, none of them
good so far.”

Clint looked at Tony and then he said, “I think I
can arrange for you to go into rehab and still allow you to be on the show. I’ll
have to get it approved through Jake of course, but he’s all for helping people
out, so I don’t think he’ll object. We can talk to the directors at the
facility and work something out for you to get to and from the studio for your
band sessions and the live rounds. You need to start now, though. We can’t take
a chance that something like the other night will happen again.”

“I, um…I don’t have the down payment that they
want.” I hated feeling like a fucking charity case.

“We’ll pay for it…if you start right away. Again,
assuming Jake approves it, I can have a check sent over by the end of the day. Your
health is the most important thing here, Tristan…believe it or not.”

I was surprised. I had really expected them to be
all talk. I wasn’t used to having people in my life that followed through.

 
“I-um-yeah,
yeah, I’ll go today. Thank you.”

“Do you have the information about the place?” I had
it in my phone and I wrote it all down for him. He looked at it and said, “Good,
I know this place. They’re really good. I’m sure they’ll work with us.”

“Thank you,” I told him again before I left. He told
me to give him an hour and he’d have it all arranged. I rode my bike back to my
place telling myself this was a good thing. I had sworn I’d never do rehab
again, but that was a long time ago, and I really couldn’t see any other way
out of the hole I’d dug myself into. When I got home, I packed a few
things…clothes, my music, my toothbrush. I didn’t bother taking anything that I
knew they wouldn’t let me take in like a razor or anything in a glass bottle. I
looked around the apartment and thought, “At least I won’t need the electricity
and water when they get shut off.”

I rode my bike out to where the rehab was. It was
kind of nestled in the foothills and it was actually a really pretty place. I
pulled into the lot and saw that
Elly
was standing
outside the door. Fucking great!

“What are you, my babysitter? My bodyguard?” I asked
her as I walked up to the door. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but the sight of
her had really pissed me off. I was getting tired of her acting like she was my
mother.

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Clint had me bring
over the check. I wanted to wait and make sure you made it here and you hadn’t
changed your mind. I’m sorry if that seems mother-
ish
to you. I thought that I was being a friend. I’m happy you talked to them and
they worked this out for you.”

“They didn’t give me a fucking choice,” I told her.

“You had a choice. You didn’t have to tell them what
was going on and accept their help. I’m really glad you’re taking that step.”

“Whoop-di-do!” I said as I grabbed the door handle
and started to go inside.

“What are you pissed at me about, Tristan?”

Shit! I’d had my fill of talking already today and I
hadn’t even started the fucking rehab. Maybe she deserved some kind of
explanation. I was pissed at her, obviously. I opened my mouth and was
surprised to hear the truth spill out.

“I haven’t used anything…not even alcohol for four
days now. My head fucking throbs all day long. I don’t have any energy. My
brain is all foggy and jumping from one subject to the next and my stomach
feels like there’s a fucking party going on in their twenty-four-seven. I went
and bought drugs the night of the show when I made an ass out of myself on live
television. I started to do a line and then I got your text and it reminded me
that I didn’t want to live like that anymore. I flushed them again and then I
broke the bathroom mirror with my fist. It hasn’t been my best week ever. I’m
sorry that I’m angry all the time. I don’t know how to stop it. I wish I did. I
look at you and I’m reminded that this was your idea…so I let my brain
interpret that as it’s also your fault. True or not, that’s how I feel.”

She had that look on her face that women get when
they suddenly decide that you’re not such a big asshole after all. That was probably
good, because I still needed to ask her the big question. I’d been so busy
being pissed at her, I’d almost forgotten.

“Thanks for explaining that,” she said. “I’m glad
you’re here.”

“Yeah, I guess I am too. I’m going to hate this and
I’m probably going to get a lot shittier before I get nicer, so consider
yourself warned.”

She smiled and said, “Warning received, thanks.
Anything I can do….”

“There is something,” I told her. She quietly
listened as I said, “I need you to sing with me for the duet next week.”

She acted like maybe she’d heard me wrong. Tilting
her head to one side she said, “You need me to do what?”

“Sing with me,
Elly
.
Please.”

“I can’t do that, Tristan. First of all, I don’t
sing in front of people….I never have. Most importantly, though, we would both
get booted from the show if I did. They would know then that we had a personal
relationship.”

“I’m not worried about that,” I told her. “I need
someone to sing with. You’re my only hope,
Elly
, or
I’m off the show now. If that’s the case then there’s no point in me even going
in those doors right now. I’ll say fuck it all and go get high.”

“That’s not fair. You put the responsibility of you
using or getting clean on me. I had sex with you. I kept up my end of the deal,
remember?”

“I think I got the bum end of that one. You got sex
out of it to…now I get rehab and you walk around free. Come on,
Elly
. I’m not asking you to sneak me in drugs or anything.
I need you to do this for me.”

“Shit! Tristan this is a bad, bad, very bad idea.
Everything you’ve done for the past seven weeks will be blown if we do this,
and I’ll be out of a job.”

“That’s fine,” I told her, “I may as well give up
now then. I’m out of here.” I know she was right. I was playing dirty pool by
blaming her. It wasn’t her fault that I’d run everyone else out of my life. But
I was using what I had; I was desperate.

“Shit! Okay, fine!” she yelled after me as I started
walking away. “I’ll do it. Hopefully they’ll understand.” I grinned at her and
she looked like she wanted to punch me. I thought it best at that moment not to
press my luck, so I went inside.

CHAPTER
SIX

ELLY

The next day after our meetings were over, I met up
with Molly for lunch. The afternoon would be busy; we were starting to make
arrangements for the top ten tour that would happen after the show. We walked
across the street to the sandwich shop and found a table.

After we’d both ordered our lunch Molly said, “So,
did you ever talk to Tristan?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked,” I said.

“Was he as blown away as everyone else was that he
didn’t get voted off?”

“We didn’t really talk about that, but I would
imagine that he was,” I said.

“Oh…no talking huh? Just some wild, passionate….”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” I told her with a
smile. “No, we didn’t do any of that. We haven’t done that for a while.”

“Probably a good thing. I heard Clint called him in
the other day. Rumor has it that he was warned to be on his best behavior.”

“Hmm,” I said. “The rumor mill around this place is
really something.”

Molly looked at me suspiciously and said, “You’re
being almost as elusive as you’re always saying Tristan is.”

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “We’re just kind of
friends…I guess. We’re not sleeping together and I’m really not privy to his
private business or thoughts.” I didn’t want to tell her about rehab, that
wasn’t my place.

“Well, like I said, it’s probably better that way.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agreed with her. It
was mostly to get her to stop talking about it and change the subject.

“I wonder who he’ll do his duet with?” another
subject that I didn’t want to talk about. I couldn’t tell anyone that I agreed
to sing with him. I trusted Molly, but she liked to gossip too much. If the
producers found out before we did the duet…they’d really kick us both off
before we even got to sing.

“I don’ know,” I lied. I couldn’t stop thinking
about it if the truth be told. I kept trying to tell myself that it was a
stupid rule and that once the producers really thought about it, they would
think so, too. They wouldn’t fire me and disqualify Tristan. It was a stupid rule,
but there was a good reason behind it. They were afraid that someone working
for the show could be persuaded to rig the results. There was no way I could do
that though. I didn’t get anywhere near the results, and even if I did, there
was no way I could change them. Maybe they’d think about that, before they fired
me. The problem would probably be more the public than the producers would.
There would probably be an outcry if he won and someone found out we were anything
more than co-workers….

“
Elly
?” Molly was talking
to me and I’d been so wrapped in my own thoughts that I hadn’t been listening.

“Yeah? I’m sorry…what did you say?”

“I said, I’m sure that Tristan knows lots of people
in the music business, wouldn’t you think?”

“You would think…” I said. “How’s your boyfriend?” I
desperately wanted to change the subject and it worked. Molly started gushing
again about her boyfriend and how perfect he was and I was off the hook.

CHAPTER
SEVEN

TRISTAN

I kept telling myself that one day I’d look back on
the rehab and think it was worth it. The problem was that in the moment, it
felt like being in prison and I hated the fuck out of it. It was a start
though. The first two times I’d gone to rehab, I’d gone in kicking and
screaming. Maybe going in voluntarily would be different.

The first week was all one-on-one therapy, I was
told. At least in a group setting I could either sit and listen or I could
mimic what everyone else was saying. I hated sitting across from a therapist,
trying to think of something to say. I guess some might argue that if I just
told the truth that would satisfy him. The problem was that the truth made me
sick—literally—and telling him about it wasn’t going to change anything. My
therapist was relentless, though. I guess you have to be that way when you’re
working with addicts. I’m sure one that’s willing to open right up with the
truth is rare. For the third day in a row, I sat in his office while he asked
the same questions over and over.