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“They’ll tear me apart if I don’t show up,” Tristan muttered, his voice barely a whisper.
“Who?”
He swallowed the heavy lump on his throat and rubbed his face with one hand. “Everyone who profits off us.”
“As I said, I have the power to give you time.”
“I appreciate that, but if I stay here, I’ll never find it again.”
“What have you lost?”
“The fire. The joy. What got me this far in the first place. The passion for my art.” Tristan paused, inhaled a deep breath, and pressed his lips together in contemplation. Then, with a sense of disbelief, he exhaled slowly. “It’s strange how quickly one can feel so pathetic.”
Dr. Snider remained silent, patiently waiting.
“I left someone behind,” Tristan continued. “Someone important to me. And because I did that, the fear for his safety is tearing me apart. I need to check on him and make sure he’s okay—even though he probably isn’t.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because I know him too well.” Tristan shrugged.
“You grieved. You don’t owe anything to anyone.”
“Yes, I do. I pushed him away when he wanted to help me. Besides, he was grieving too.” Tristan shook his head in disbelief. “I was trapped in that dark storm for days. I have no idea what I did there, but I’m sure the accident was just the culmination of that hellish journey.”
Snider flipped through the file and yanked out a paper. “As I also learned from Carol Davis last Friday, you’ve been charged with assault. The man you attacked is demanding compensation.”
“Of course,” Tristan muttered. “What else?”
“Do you want to talk about it? Remember why you attacked the man?”
The memories were blurry, but when Tristan saw the man’s face in his mind again, a chill ran down his spine. “He … was a jerk.”
Snider winced. “But that wasn’t all, right?”
“No. Of course not. He was drunk, insulted me, and provoked me. Called me a damn Indian.”
“People who know you from the media are aware of your indigenous roots; it’s even somewhat apparent.”
Tristan sighed. It was even more apparent with Milo that their mother had belonged to the Blackfoot tribe. “I’m well aware of that. But … the guy … He not only insulted me, but also my brother, as if he knew him. I don’t know.”
“That was just a few days after the funeral, wasn’t it? Why did you even agree to go to a bar?”
“José just wouldn’t let up, and I thought …”
“Mr. James, listen. It’s not my intention to sabotage your career by keeping you here any longer. If you feel up to it, if you can perform in six days, then I won’t stand in your way. Moreover, I think the circumstances speak for themselves. Since this morning, one of your bandmates has been waiting for you. Like a meditating monk, he sits in the waiting room and refuses to leave without you.”
José.
Tristan smiled sadly. Only his drummer possessed the calmness Snider spoke of. But why did the doctor choose to reveal this information now? When all his defenses had collapsed and he felt like a wreck.
“I’ll give you some medication and a prescription. That will help you focus. Additionally, I’ll provide you with a medical report, which I’ll also send to your manager.”
“What? Why?”
“She asked me to issue one, intending to forward it to a lawyer. Probably has to do with that lawsuit. I’ll send it by email tonight. Miss Davis also gave me your email address.”
As the psychiatrist stood up, Tristan remained seated. His gaze wandered to the clock above the door. It was only half past nine; the week had just begun. Snider went to his computer and clicked the mouse a few times. Shortly after, the printer behind him started whirring. The doctor took out the paper and signed it. He then retrieved a medication from a drawer and added it to the document. As he came around the table and stood in front of Tristan, he frowned.
