Keith: Above The Haze
My eyes were open but unfocused. I existed in a fog. Where the hell was I? What had I done? And why did my bones feel so heavy? It hit me then: I’d been drugged. Wracking my brain, I tried to recall taking something that would make me feel this way, but I only had faint memories of the night before – and the woman from the bar. Oh, shit, what had she done to me? I remembered following her to her car. I remembered the party. I remembered the sex.
And then I remembered where I was supposed to be – on tour. With Jake. Oh, shit. Oh, no. My first chance had already been spent. I had to get back to him before he figured out I was gone… before his manager fired me for breaking the contract. But the more I fought to remember, the more I wished I hadn’t bothered, because as the previous night spun into focus, I knew I’d fucked up royally.
Anxiously attempting to blink the haze from my eyes, the only thing I seemed to be able to make out was sterile whiteness and bags of liquid dangling from a hook. Goddammit! I was in a hospital. If they found out where I’d been and why, no amount of groveling was going to save me. But how was I supposed to get out of here when I was tethered to machines? Desperate times called for desperate measures, and I yanked on the tubing holding me prisoner. It was then I felt fingers grip my forearm and I jolted back, attacking like a cornered animal. More hands held me down. Whoever was with me in this drug-induced fog had better back the hell up.
“It’s okay, Keith. Relax. It’s an IV. If you pull on it, they’ll restrain you.”
Mom?What the hell was she doing here? We were in Massachusetts, right? How had she gotten here overnight? Was I hallucinating? Now clearing my blurred mind became a necessity. Either I’d fallen down a fucking rabbit hole or my mother happened to have a few extra thousand mileage points to burn.
As I blinked furiously, the world around me began to clear, and that’s when I saw him too.Dad?If I was in a fantasy world, I’d done a fairly shitty job using my imagination.
“Keith, can you hear me?” My eyes shifted off the mirage of my parents and onto a man in blue scrubs who looked way too old and way too tired to not be real. But until I had proof I was in the here and now, I wasn’t wasting my breath on words. So I grunted.
“I’m Dr. Hilton. You’ve had a rough couple of days, son. You were brought in here unresponsive. We’re waiting on the toxicology reports, but based on your symptoms, we’re treating this as a cocaine overdose. You arrived here tachycardic, and we couldn’t get a blood pressure because you were fighting us so much. That’s why you were sedated. You’ll need to be monitored here at the hospital for a few days until your renal function returns to normal.”
‘Overdose’ was the last thing I heard before conveniently tuning him out. I didn’t need to hear the specifics; I was sure they would be played on repeat for a long time to come. My parents weren’t an illusion. They were in Massachusetts because of me. I’d summoned them here through my sheer stupidity.
* * *
Everything came flooding back to me now. It had been an overnight in Springfield, and after arranging a ‘fan encounter’ for Jake, I retired to my hotel room. Yogis – our code word for casual sex – had become a regular thing. Not that it bothered me. Good for him. It was just that his extracurricular activities left me with more time on my hands and no good intentions to go with them. I passed the stretches with my own Yogis, and while that took the edge off, it was never quite enough to satisfy the itch.
That night, as with most nights, I’d hit the bar where I could drink in peace. But, of course, there was never peace. Scouting ants were always on the lookout for crumbs, and once spotted, reinforcements were called in. Chantal was her name, or at least that’s what she claimed. She was gorgeous and exotic and persuasive, and I was the drunken sod with a wad of cash in hand and a seriously weakened resolve. Before I knew it, she’d lured me in with the heat of her touch and the promise of pharmaceutical pleasures. I was her crumb, and at that moment, I’d have followed her anywhere.
And I did.
As the shame settled in, I turned away from the doctor only to make direct eye contact with my little brother. He was standing near the exit as if he were prepared to bolt at a moment’s notice. I didn’t blame him. If I could just get this IV out of my hand, I’d escape with him.
My father swatted my fingers away from the tape and tubing. “Leave it!”
I kept my eyes trained on Jake. He didn’t look as pissed as my father sounded, and that was a good thing. Maybe I still had a chance to make this right.
“I’m sorry,” I said, the words scratching against my raw throat. “Don’t give up on me. Just give me a day and I’ll be as good as new. I promise you this will never happen again.”
He shook his head, diverting his eyes.
Suddenly it felt like I was drowning in a sea of disappointment. Everywhere I turned, a wall of water threatened to submerge me.
Demanding his attention, I raised my voice. “Jake! Do you hear me?”
“Quiet. I hear you.” The first traces of irritation passed over his face. “I gave you a chance, Keith. That was my fault. And now my hands are tied.”
His hands were tied? What the hell did that mean? Had I just been fired?
“Who made you judge, jury, and executioner?”
“You signed an agreement,” he continued, justifying his abandonment with clear-cut facts.
“So what? You and I both know who runs this show. You have the final say. You can rip up the agreement if you want to.”
He and I stared at one another, but instead of folding to my will, as was typical in our relationship, Jake stood his ground, his resolve strengthening with each piercing glare.
Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”
It was as if my last safe passage had just been sealed shut. Jake, the brother who’d always had my back, had turned his on me.
That was all I needed to hear for the vitriol to spew forth. “So this is how it’s going down? You’re just going to throw me out?”
