Later that night, I visited Gael. He seemed only a little surprised to see me and nodded his greeting.

Nervous, I sat beside him on his bed. He continued to read one of the many magazines he had stacked in his room as if I hadn‘t entered. I folded my hands together in my lap, gathering my courage.

“Hey, Gael? I uh… I noticed earlier that you reacted a little more… strongly… than you usually would with Digitalis. Is something up with you guys?” I noticed the way his eyes narrowed at the page, an annoyed look. I expected him to reply by saying he’d just reached his limit with her. She was pretty irritating to all of us recently with her impulsive mood swings.

“Can we not talk about that?” He muttered, “I’m busy.”

I stared at him, surprised.

“Are you okay…?” I reached my hand towards him like I would touch his shoulder to comfort him. Instead, I found that I couldn’t find the courage to lay my hand on him. He exuded coldness.

“I want to be alone, Asya.” He flipped the page with a snap and I got up from his bed, my hands falling at my sides in numb defeat.

I left the room, dejected and icy. Gael used to tell me everything, and he’d never been too busy to spend time with me before. Now, I felt like I meant nothing to Gael; We weren’t close anymore.

I retreated to my room, looking a little down on the outside, while I crumbled and broke inside. I curled onto my bed and cried for hours before I finally got the energy to stand up again. Once I did, I drove to the nearest club with my fake ID. I drank until I forgot about the way he pushed me away and once I was good and drunk, I joined a few men in the bathroom.

***

I held my face in my hands, exhaling heavily.

“I can’t believe I used to be so focused on myself.” My fingers slid into my hair, curling in it. “If I’d only tried to think about how he felt…” I cringed. “I was so scared of losing Gael that I never stopped to think about why he might have pushed me away. I mean, it still hurts that he couldn’t talk about it with me, but… I was selfish. I couldn‘t see that something was wrong.”

“What was wrong?”

I bit my lip, “Digitalis assaulted him, made him kiss her.”

“Was this memory from after the assault?”

“Yes, but before I learned about it.”

“I see.” Her pen scratched the silence away. "How did this affect you?”

“This happened after I got worked up over Tanya. I was becoming dependent on the alcohol, but it wasn‘t a problem for the band until the assault started drama. After Gael pushed me away, I couldn‘t separate my drinking from my everyday life. I was drunk at meetings and skipped band events for parties. I got bad press when there were some leaked photos from my parties. They interviewed a few old hookups.”

“How did this affect your relationship with your band?” She inquired.

I sighed.

“Gael confronted me when I was sober and demanded that I schedule my life better. I did my best, and I didn’t miss events anymore. I didn’t come to meetings drunk as often. I called in sick sometimes to drink, but it didn’t interfere so badly. But none of it really mattered.”

“Why do you say that?”

“The press was still on me and I couldn’t stop getting into trouble with the drinking and random sex.” I focused on the tan curtains again. The calming effect they normally had did little to relieve my tension.

I continued, “I drank at work all the time, too. I just watered it down a little more so it wouldn’t be as obvious. I could tell that I disappointed Gael. He didn’t want to hang out with me, so I became lonelier. I drank more and frequently slept around. And Absinthe…” I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Go on.” Dr. Paege prompted.

“Absinthe was more disappointed than anyone. She avoided me for a while until she decided that I needed her.” My eyes glazed over with a wistful stare. “She would drink with Digitalis and I when the band first started. Those days ended when my life spiraled out of control. I think I reminded her of her mother…”

I shook my head with disappointment. “She was a woman that truly loved her liquor.”

“How did this all affect your career?”

“The press was on me, so the managers and the label… weren’t pleased. By the time I was nineteen, the issues reached their climax.”

***

I was at yet another meeting in the bland room that the label provided for our regular gatherings. I held my head in my hands, sipping the vodka-spiked water in my bottle to ward off the hangover I’d earned last night. We were waiting on Digitalis. Suzie, the manager, glared at me in a way that made me nervous as she paced. An awkward air poisoned the room. Gael thumbed through a stack of papers and Absinthe absentmindedly tapped the table with her fingers in a rhythm, making noise that showcased the verbal silence.

Digitalis came bursting in, letting go of an intern’s sleeve with a flirtatious wink. She turned to face the room. We all looked up at her, impatient. Suzie halted and silently pointed to Digitalis‘ chair. Digitalis rolled her eyes and groaned, taking her seat before folding her arms tightly over her chest. Suzie clicked a few buttons on the projector’s remote, pulling up a series of tabloid articles.

When I lifted my eyes to the screen, everything inside me dropped.

Most of the photos featured me, half-drunk or worse. In a few, I pressed up against one of my many former hookups.

“Asya, do you want to tell me what today’s meeting is about?” Suzie’s tongue clicked the words out like a strict teacher.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Sarcastically, I replied, “Is it because Digitalis is always late?”

Suzie sighed and flipped to the next slide. It revealed a few more photos with an article clipping. It read, “Teen Idol Sex Scandal!”

“It’s about your drinking, Asya. And your sleeping around.” She pointed to the article. “We let it slide before, but you’ve gotten worse. There are pictures now, and stories everywhere.” She clicked to another slide with more photos. “Remember that interview you had a month ago? The one where you showed up drunk? People are still talking about that.”

The more she spoke, the further my stomach sank into me.

“The press is finding all these men that you fooled around with. Their interviews are everywhere! Have you read what they’ve said about you? It doesn’t look good, Asya. It doesn’t look good at all.”

She snapped to another slide, and I let my head fall forward against the table. She was burying me alive and I didn’t want to see the dirt that fell over me.

“Look at this one! They interviewed a guy that saw you at the club last week! He says he saw you with three different men in the bathroom! This is worse than just irresponsible partying, Asya!” She was shrieking frantically. I didn’t need to see the photo. I believed I could do that. “And here’s an anonymously sent photo of your ass!? You let someone take this photo? And don’t try to tell me it’s not yours. I can see two of your tattoos in this!”

I sighed against the table, the sour scent of the alcohol on my breath rushing back towards my face, making me crinkle my nose.

I lifted my head, “So you want me to slow down or what?”

The beginning of a buzz kept me from feeling too embarrassed by the situation, but it wouldn’t kill the irritation in my voice.

“I want you to stop! Play the perfect bassist until the press calms down! And Asya… It’s not good for you to be living this way… It’s dangerous.” Her frantic tone changed into worry partway through. Her eyes pleaded with me.

I felt nothing. I ducked my head down, drinking more of my spiked water. Suzie perked up.

“Asya? What’s in the bottle?” she asked, strutting over.

She snatched it away and sniffed it as I sluggishly reached for it.

“Goddamnit! Even here?” She took the bottle to her desk as I groaned in protest.

“It’s just for my hangover, Suzie,” I whined.

“Asya, I don’t want to have to fire you, but I will if this gets worse! I have a lot of heat on me from the label because of these scandals. One more incident and they’ll be demanding it.”

“Who else could play bass for us?” Absinthe asked, concerned. “I don’t see how anyone can write songs with Gael, either.”

Suzie shook her head, “We’ll figure that out if he’s fired.”

“But the band will fall apart! Why should we all be punished just because this prick can’t control himself around guys when he’s all liquored up?” Digitalis sneered.

“We should find another way to deal with Asya. This is the first time you’ve confronted him about it, so isn’t it rash to threaten him with this all at once?” Gael asked calmly, though his eyes focused intensely on the papers in front of him.

“The agency and I are considering alternative punishments, but the threat still stands. We’ll update you if the situation changes.” Suzie turned the projector off, and the room darkened.

“I think you guys have bigger things to deal with…” Gael muttered.

“What was that, Gael?” she asked, leaning on the table in his direction.

“If I don’t get less time with Digitalis, I’m quitting. She’s been relentless since she made a pass at me. She won‘t take ‘no’ for an answer. I’m getting fed up with it.” Gael blurted, stone-faced aside from a twitch in his eyebrow.

The room was quiet.

Digitalis’ eyes widened with a mix of frozen rage and pure astonishment.

“Gael… We should talk about this privately…” Suzie said, walking towards him.

He snapped up from his chair when she placed a hand on his shoulder. His expression thawed into something more vulnerable, and he turned his back to us, shaking her hand away. Suzie froze.

“No. I want less time with her. Or I’m quitting.”

He stormed out before anyone could respond to the ultimatum. When the door swung shut behind him, the haze in my head cleared.

Suzie was chasing him out. Digitalis turned to Absinthe and muttered excuses to her while Absinthe curled her lip and tried not to listen.

My eyes remained frozen on the door. The horror sank into my skin, like a blanket of poison. I glared at Digitalis as she sat there, red-faced, her mouth spilling bullshit words to anyone that bothered to listen.

No one listened.

I left the meeting room, snatching my water bottle from Suzie’s desk before I escaped. My grip tightened on the bottle, trying to become a fist. My fingers groped the insides of my pockets for my lighter and a cigarette.

Only after the cigarette burned between my lips would my anger fade. I lowered my hand to my side, my hand shaking as it slid back into my pocket.

Gael never told me. He didn’t trust me and he never even came for consolation before he spilled the secret to everyone at once.

Even if he had, I was drunk so often, I probably would have made him feel worse.

With that thought, my fingers tightened around my lighter in my pocket. I took the cigarette from my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut, chewing my lip.

Over the years, Gael needed me less and less. It was like he didn‘t care about me as much. He didn’t need me anymore. I couldn’t help him through his hurt if I tried.

My teeth pulled at my lip until the metallic taste of blood touched my tongue.

I’m worthless.

I watched my fingers quiver, shaking the ash away from the end of my cigarette. I raised it back to my lips and inhaled deeply. Tears formed and fell from my eyes, stinging from smoke.

He might have relied on me if I wasn‘t an alcoholic. I wondered if I could have prevented the assault if I wasn‘t out partying instead.

Any love I had for myself died and rotted away within me. I became empty.

***

“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” Dr. Paege’s voice rang out of the silence. “Even if you were around the day Digitalis had assaulted Gael, she probably would have waited for another opportunity. You couldn‘t constantly be with him.” I looked up at her, my wet eyes drying as the impact of the memory faded.

“Maybe you‘re right,” I muttered, still unsure if I agreed. I wiped away the tear I’d shed but bit my lip when I felt another one coming. I put my face in my hands. “It‘s just that I… I feel responsible, somehow. While he went through that trauma, I was drunk or sleeping around. When I learned about it, I only pitied myself and neglected Gael even more…”

“Asya. You can’t change the past, but now you’re here.” Her voice was suddenly soothing. “You’re solving your problem with addiction so you can be a friend to him again. You’ve made mistakes, but you’ll do better next time.”

I cried into my hands while she waited patiently, comforted but still emotional. Conscious of her eyes on me, I finally took a deep breath and faced her, my eyelashes heavy from crying.

“I think we had a good session today, Asya. You got a lot off your chest. Just stay focused, work on your meditation and yoga, and let yourself heal. You can make it through this. You’ve already been sober for so long.”

“Great.” I laughed sardonically. “After this I have group therapy. I hate group therapy.” I wiped my eyes a little harder. I didn’t need the group’s hypocritical judgment. “It makes me want to drink.”

“Now, we needn‘t joke about that. Let’s do our best to participate. If you’re frustrated, you can write a song about it during your art therapy sessions.”

I shrug. Art therapy would be great if it wasn’t so short and closely watched. I wanted to create more than ‘happy’ things, but they always warned me not to indulge my darker thoughts in my art. I took a deep breath in preparation to leave.

“Dr. Bell ought to be back tomorrow and hopefully he’ll have read my notes. You’re doing well, Asya. Remember that.” She got up to walk me to the office door, a feat of fewer than two steps for us both. I could smell her perfume as I went past, my stomach turning at the peony scent. I walked back out into the facility. The unforgivingly ‘happy’ and ‘peaceful’ facility blinded me with a barrage of sterile whiteness. While I was healthier here, there was still a part of me that wanted to pick up a bottle and go wild.