Page 6 of Rockstar Retreat

3

Jerrik

I wokeup with a low pounding in my head, a familiar one. Not quite a hangover, but close. I shifted and realized I must have passed out in my clothes, on top of the covers. I rolled onto my back, cracked open my eyes and looked down at myself before wincing.

All at once, arriving at the retreat came back to me. The second I made it into my room, I refused to go out, only opening the door for my luggage and for the sake of meals. I had, thankfully, been allowed to pack for myself, and I’d packed plenty to keep me busy along with my clothes.

I was still in the tank top and jeans from two days ago, and I grimaced. I could have done with a shower, but instead, I slid off the bed and squinted my eyes around the room until I found what I was looking for, which was a half empty open bottle of whiskey on the floor a few steps away. If I drank it before the hangover set in, I wouldn’t have to deal with it. I’d gotten pretty good at avoiding hangovers in the past several months, though the binge drinking was probably hell on my liver.

A knock on the door brought a scowl to my face. The staff had come before to try and get me to come out, and every time I gave the same answer, but they kept coming back.

“Excuse me, sir, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave,” a voice called, making me roll my eyes.

“You’ve missed your sessions the past two days already; you can't miss the third day.”

“I’m busy,” I shouted back. “So just piss off and leave me alone! I paid for it, so what’s your problem?”

It was the staff’s job to check in on me, I knew that. No matter how much I insulted them, someone was always back to get me. But no one told me about these ‘sessions’ or that they were mandatory. After all, this had been the compromise to locking me up in a rehab center, because I didn’t need rehab, no way. I just had a bit of a problem. I wasn’t an alcoholic or anything, so I was fed up of everyone treating me as if I were one.

Instead, the label and Tom thought I needed to relax. I could have told them it was pointless.

I expected to be left alone. They hadn't tried too hard before, but another round of knocking came, this time louder, faster and decidedly annoying.

“Sir,” the voice came again, sounding stern. “I’m going to have to ask you to open the door, please. You are required at today’s session. If you would only attend even for a few minutes, you would see it’s not that bad.”

I snorted and thought I heard a touch of desperation in his voice. So I ignored it.

Just because I was stuck here, didn’t mean I was going to do what they all wanted me to do. Tom, the label, all the people that worked at the retreat, they could go fuck themselves and leave me alone. It was really all I needed.

Bastards!

I might not want my career to be over, but it wasn’t like I would be out on the streets if it did. I knew I got out of control sometimes; I couldn’t help it. But so what? It was my life to live as I pleased. No other label might sign me, but I knew if I hired the right people, I could go solo if I wanted.

Only, I didn’t want to. It was too much like work. So I was stuck.

I moved back to the bed and sat down heavily, taking another heavy gulp of alcohol.

“If you don’t come out of this room today and join the session, I’m afraid I will have to contact your agent.”

That made me freeze. And really, I should have known.

Quickly, I set the bottle down and got up, walking straight for the door. I hadn't drunk enough to start up a buzz yet, though my head didn’t hurt at all anymore. Speed walking across the room made me feel a little nauseous, but I ignored it as I yanked the door open and glared at the worker that stood there.

He looked startled when I abruptly opened the door, his eyes widening and lips parting before he tried to look nonchalant, a feat he wasn’t really managing.

“What did you just say?” I said slowly and saw the man gulp.

“It was a requirement of you staying here, set by your agent and your… employer.”

I smiled, and the guy swallowed again, looking almost afraid. I wondered if everyone knew who I was and who I worked for, and the reason why I was there in the first place. Obviously, both Tom and the label would have tried to keep some things under wraps, but there were leaks and rumors got around.

“I didn’t know about this,” I said. “Why wasn’t I informed that you’re all supposed to be keeping tabs on me?”

“Um, I only know what I was told. That you’re supposed to attend the sessions, and if you miss too many, he is to be called immediately.”

I wanted to curse but held myself back. Really, I should have expected it. Like it would all be so easy; they leave me alone and I do whatever I want.

Right.