Page 131 of The Song We Lost

Dave steps in like he owns the place.

He always does.

Just like he ownsme.

He takes one look at me, then the spilled drink, the TV that somehow keeps getting louder and his mouth tightens just slightly.

“You’ve been up?” he asks.

I don’t answer, I look down and I am back in bed… How?

I blink trying to remember what I was doing and gesture vaguely toward the screen.

“That’s new?” I ask. My voice sounds like gravel.

Dave glances at the screen and then back at me.

“It dropped early,” he says. “Single push before the album is released next week.”

My chest tightens.Album?

My mind is creaming at me to catch up, I try to grab at the memories that feel so far off.

Bailey is releasing an album?

Dave watches me for a second longer, then walks farther into the room and sets a coffee down in front of me.

“Drink,” he says.

I don’t reach for it.

Instead I ask the same question that feels like it’s been on a loop in my mind for…

“What day is it?”

He pauses, just for a second. I think.

Then, “We are nearing the end of October.”

Wait… what happened to thanksgiving?

My brain tries to catch up.

Fails.

“What…” I swallow. “What happened to… last week?”

Dave exhales slowly. “You’ve been busy,” he says.

Busy.

That word sits wrong.

I look at him, really look at him. “Have I?”

He doesn’t react. “You’ve had sessions. Press. A couple appearances.”

I don’t remember any of it.