Deep down, I know he’s right, but I don’t admit that to him. When we arrive back home, I’ll definitely hear it from the team. I’ll do what I always do when they yap in my ears—ignore them, tune them out, daydream about Trinity …
He taps my knee. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.”
Amen.
* * *
Not only did the team tell me off, but they also yelled at me. Justin’s face looked red as a tomato. If I wasn’t so amused, I would have told him to calm down, afraid that he might explode. The look on my dad’s face shut me right up.
He wasn’t even glaring at me. The neutral expression said enough. I was dead. Completely and utterly dead after the conversation with the team.
Now, here we sit, talking about more tour details, but the entire time, I can’t focus because I can feel his stare.
I keep my head turned in the other direction from him. I don’t want him to see the fear in my eyes. I always try to hide it as best I can, but I know deep down, he can see it. My father is a monster. He scares me. He’s not the media, who only knows me through photos and songs. He’s my dad. He knows my darkest secrets. He knows my biggest struggle. My greatest weakness.
Pills.
No one but my family and Trinity knows about my overdose story. That’s a story in my life I wish to be buried deep into the ground, where no one can find it. He’ll always have the upper hand, knowing my story. The thought makes me want to pee my pants. One word, and he’ll expose me and show the world how weak I truly am.
What singer has anxiety? Me—that’s who.
I’m the singer who almost killed himself because he was so lost that he thought he would never see the top again.
The thought of pills runs electricity through my veins. Swallowing tightly, I squeeze my eyes shut. My hands tremble more as I fight to get air in my lungs. The buzzing in my ears makes me panic on the inside because I can’t concentrate on anything the team is saying.
The bright walls around me feel like they’re closing in and trapping me, crushing me alive until I’m left not breathing. I have to get the hell out of here because I can’t have an attack in front of all these people.
My seat rolls behind me as I jump up suddenly, startling some people. I stride to the door with a firm look on my face. My shaking hand trembles against the doorknob as I twist it open. I don’t give them a second glance as I exit the conference room, tuning out their yells from across the hallway. I shut myself in the bathroom. Locking it, I sink down onto the ground and place my head in my hands.
My brain only goes to one solution when I get attacks like these. Pills.
It would be so much easier if I could calm my nerves with a pill that serves as magic in my eyes. Magic that’s so dangerous that it threatens to take my life because I know I wouldn’t only take one.
The only person I know who can pull me out of this is miles away. I didn’t have an attack in months because of her. Just the smell of her pineapple-coconut perfume would calm me down.
My hands tightly grip my phone as I search through my Contacts. Finding her name, I press the Call button quickly. I hope to God she answers. I need to hear her voice to soothe the storm inside of me.
As I run a hand down my face in distress because I know I’ve almost reached her voice mail, I perk up when she answers.
“Hello?”
“Trin?” I sigh desperately into the phone.
“What’s wrong, Leonidas?” she rasps.
I lean my head on the wall behind me. Swallowing feels harder as I listen to her intense breaths.
“I’m having an attack.”
Shuffling is heard over the line as her voice whispers into the phone, “You’re going to be fine. Where are you right now?”
“Bathroom.”
“I need you to walk over to the sink and place me on speakerphone. You need to wash your face with cold water. It’ll help, babe,” she says desperately and passionately.
I don’t have the energy to stand on my two feet. Trinity knows everything. Somehow, she’ll know if I haven’t gotten up. I pinch my nose when I stand in all of my tall glory. Hitting the speaker button, I place my phone down, turning the knob to the coldest it can go. I glare at myself in the mirror.
“Did you do it, Leonidas?” Trinity’s soft voice says, pulling me out of my thoughts.
