Page 16 of Toxic Kiss

“What the fuck was that?” Vex barks. “I’m all for being a dick, but you just fucked all of us.”

“You bailed on a live show,” Ash snaps. “Who does that to their band?”

“We had one job today,” Ledger growls. “One fucking job and you get so goddamn hammered that you can’t pull it together for a whole fifteen minutes? Do you even want to be in this band anymore?”

I don’t answer. I lick my lips but can’t get air past my throat. It’s as if my chest is caving in.

“Talk to us,” Eren says, quieter. “What’s going on, Cy? You look…you look like shit.”

I swallow as I blink up at the ceiling.

“My head,” I whisper.

“Maybe if you stopped partying like you’ve got nothing to live for, you wouldn’t be fucking sick,” Ledger snarls.

Same fight, different day. He hardly drinks and hates the parties, but he shows up to save face. I’ve been better, but last night I fell back into an old pattern of destructive behavior. The thing is…this is no hangover. Something else is wrong, and I don’t want to look too closely at the cause. I’m fucking terrified.

“Back off,” I snap, pushing to my feet. “You think I want to be like this?”

“You walked off the Jack fucking Malone show, and blasted Auguste’s daughter on national television,” Ledger says, exasperated. “You think he’s just gonna shrug that off, even if he is fucking your mother? And what the hell did Haven ever do to you anyway? As long as I’ve known you, you’ve been a dick to her for no reason.”

“Fuck off. Don’t bring her into this right now,” I growl. “I’m sick, not hungover.”

I stumble to the back of the bus, dragging my hands through my hair.

“Bullshit,” Vex spits.

“I fucking swear I’m not drunk or high,” I mutter and lick my lips. “I didn’t ask to be sick.”

“No one asks to be a wreck, Cy,” Ash says. “But we clean it up anyway. It’s not a gritty headline anymore. It feels like we’re repeating history.”

Declan storms onto the bus, face red.

“Someone explain to me what the fuck just happened?”

“Can’t do this right now,” I say, slurring as my lips go numb.

“You’d better find a way. They’ve got pictures. They’ve got footage. They’ve got screaming audio from inside this goddamn bus. This is a PR nightmare. Holy fuck, I never thought I’d feel sorry for anyone more than me, but good luck to Haven,” Declan snarls, glaring at me.

“Just do your fucking job and spin it,” I spit. “Isn’t that what you’re paid to do? To be our goddamn shield?”

Declan glares, but his rage falters, replaced with concern.

“You’re really fucking pale. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

“Maybe I am,” I say with a shrug, yanking open the door to the back sleeping area and slamming it behind me. I sink onto the floor, legs sprawled, head in my hands as the room spins violently.

The press will say it was a meltdown. Just another dramatic moment from a strung-out rockstar, but the truth is, I’ve been falling apart for a long time. Something is wrong. Something the doctors are missing while they stare at me with their blank expressions and judgemental eyes.

Outside, the world burns. Inside, I’m already ash.

chapter

seven

“You can burn the bridge, baby. But I’m still walking through the fire.” - Haven

HAVEN