Those and so many otherwhat ifsplagued my brain, and although my anguish was silent, the tears couldn’t be contained. In those agonizing moments in the Uber car with Cy, Braden, and me crammed in the back and Mick in the passenger seat next to the twenty-something driver, I prayed silently that Zack would come through.
Did he know we weren’t there with him? Did he feel alone? Or did he know that we were near…that we cared?
I thought back over all the horrible things we’d said to each other in the past, the way our relationship had malfunctioned…and I knew we were wrong for each other. I’d pushed it and he’d finally relented, but it was clear we didn’t belong together. But that didn’t change the fact that I loved him to the bottom of my heart, would do anything for him.
I would even give up my life if it meant he could live.
Looking back over the past couple of years, I could see it all in sharp focus like never before. Zack was suffering. He had been but had rarely voiced it, hadn’t known how to cope with it. Even in high school something had been eating at him, and I knew now that that was why he’d taken to alcohol so early. He’d learned even back then that he seemed to feel better when he could numb the voices, drown out the pain.
But alcohol and drugs could only do so much.
Even writing seemed to help him, laying his soul bare on the stage night after night, but I wondered now if that just made it worse. Seeing fans sing his words that reflected his torment with a smile on their faces, not actually feeling what he had when he’d written them, might simply underscore how alone he was in the world.
Oh, Zack.How could we assure him we were there with him, that we cared for him? That we wanted him to be healthy and free from his demons?
Braden let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him. Oh…he knew I was crying and he wanted to comfort me. Sweet, sweet Braden, caring for me like no one ever had before, even while I was crying over my past love.
No—that wasn’t entirely true. I was crying because our friend—ourfriend—was in danger of losing his life.
I was grateful that the driver wasn’t trying to make conversation, and pop music played softly on the radio, just enough to keep the silence from feeling awkward. Fortunately, Mick said something to him once in a while until he dropped us off at the emergency room. I was thankful that Mick took care ofallthe talking, telling the person at the desk who we were and who we were there for.
I went to the restroom so I could blow my nose and splash water on my face. My tears weren’t helping Zack…and I needed to be strong for my bandmates. Looking in the mirror at my splotched face and red-rimmed eyes, I silently told myself that I’d had time to let it all out. Now I had to pull myself together and try to support my friends, these men who had become part of my family, for better or worse.
By the time I left the restroom, I felt a little shaky but completely sober and surprisingly dry-eyed. Mick was talking to Cy and Braden near the sliding glass doors as I joined them, but he looked at me as I approached. “You okay, kid?”
I gave a slight nod of my head. “Yeah.” When Braden’s hand touched mine, I took it.
“I was just bringing the guys up to speed. They’re apparently trying to stabilize him—and they won’t let us see him until they move him to a regular room.”
“How long will that be?”
“I don’t know. The nurse didn’t seem to know either—or maybe she wasn’t telling me. But she said the cafeteria is open until two. Coffee’s on me for anyone who wants it.”
“But what if Zack wakes up while we’re gone?”
The expression on Mick’s face frightened me—because it said oh, so much while trying to hide what he was thinking. “We won’t be able to see him for a while. It’ll be at least an hour.”
“I don’t think—”
“Would it make you feel better if I let them know where we were?”
“Yes.”
Mick nodded, giving me the kindest expression, before going back to the desk. Braden asked Cy, “How you holdin’ up?”
“I’m okay. You guys?”
“I don’t know. I won’t know till…later,” Braden said, squeezing my hand.
I squeezed his back, hoping he felt my support.
When we got to the cafeteria, Mick offered to buy food too, but I couldn’t eat. I sipped at the coffee, grateful to have it warming my belly, but I felt raw and my entire body felt tense with worry.
“I need to call Zack’s mother, but I’m going to wait until morning,” Mick said as he put his cup down on the table.
Cy said, “Shouldn’t we tell her now? If he—”
My mind filled in the blank: If hedies.
