Track 31: Side A

Judgy Little Pill

 

Lincoln

I look down at the little pink and white capsule in my hand. This could change my life. I know Alex assured me we’d make sure we found a dosage and medication with the most minimal side effects, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying. I read online, blog after blog from people with bipolar and depression declaring that their medication makes them a zombie. People saying they’d rather feel, even if it means their moods are erratic, rather than go through life in a fog of numbness.

I’m used to being numb, and I often dread it more than the darkness.

I roll the capsule around in my hand and look up at my reflection. Who am I? I hate the unpredictable lows, but the rest of it isn’t so bad. The highs are pretty nice, and most of the time, I’m level enough to function. But even though I hate the lows, they give me inspiration for my music; they make me a better artist. What if these pills take away who I am? Everyone knows artists are supposed to be a bit fucked up in the head. What if these pills take my music away from me?

“Linc?” Jace taps on the door, and I look at the pill with guilt.

“Yeah?” I call back.

“You okay, baby?” he asks with forced lightness in his voice. “You’ve been in there awhile.”

“I’m okay,” I assure him.

“Can I…um …can I come in?”

I sigh and reach for the doorknob, pulling the door open and facing Jace, my pills still in my hand.

“See? No blood,” I spread my arms and gesture around the bathroom. “I told you, I’m fine.”

His eyes latch onto my closed hand, and he reaches for it. I unfold my fingers reluctantly and understanding dawns in his eyes when he sees the pills.

“You’re afraid to take them?” he guesses.

“A little bit.”

“Come here.” His fingers wrap around my wrist, and he tugs me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.              

We sit down on the bed, and I nibble on my bottom lip, avoiding Jace’s gaze for fear I’ll see disappointment there.

“Linc, look at me,” Jace requests, and after a few seconds of resistance, I do as he asked. “Why are you afraid?”

“I’m worried I won’t be me anymore if I take these. I’m nervous I’ll lose my music.”

Jace nods in understanding, putting his hand over mine.

“And if you don’t take them? What do you risk losing?”

“You,” I whisper.

“Not just me, Linc. You risk losing everything. If you keep on the way you’ve been, you’ll lose your band, your friends…Linc, you’ll lose your life.”

I nod, looking down at my hand with the medication in it again. “If I hate it, can I stop?” I ask.

“If you hate it, you can talk to Alex and see about switching or changing your dose. But you won’t stop without telling someone, right?”

I blow out a long breath and nod. “Okay, yeah.”

I unfurl my fingers again and shove the capsules into my mouth before I can spend any more time thinking about it.

“I’m proud of you.” Jace runs his fingers through my hair, and I lean into his touch like a happy cat. “Let’s go out and do something fun tonight.”

“I’d like that. I haven’t taken you on a proper date yet.”

“I like the sound of that,” Jace agrees, leaning forward for a kiss. “Let’s hop in the shower and then we can decide where to go.”

 

 

Jace

“This place is fancy,” I note nervously as Linc leads me into an upscale steak house.

“Freckles, I’m rich as fuck; don’t worry about it.”

“Oh yeah,” I chuckle. “I keep forgetting that you’re rich now. You’re just Linc to me.”

Lincoln smirks, stopping short of the host stand. “And what does being just Linc entail?”

“Cocky jerk, pretty moody, gives sloppy blowjobs,” I list off teasingly, and the host coughs to cover a laugh at the last one. “Oh, sorry, Lincoln Miller, lead singer of Downward Spiral, for two.”

Linc is choking on his laughter as the host’s eyes go wide.

“You know that’s going to be all over the gossip sites now, right? Is it true Lincoln Miller gives sloppy blowjobs? They’re going to be calling you to confirm,” he whispers in my ear as we’re lead to a table.

“I hope they do. I’ll confirm every word,” I respond solemnly, and Lincoln nips my earlobe.

“You’re so mean to me,” he complains.

“You need someone in your life to keep your fame from going to your head.”

“Fair enough.”

Lincoln reaches over and holds my hand across the table. It strikes me how nice it is to hold Lincoln’s hand in public. When we were young, everything between us was in private so his dad wouldn’t find out.

“I was shocked when you came out on that late-night talk show right as the band was getting big. Did your label shit themselves when all four of you decided to do it at once?”

“They were freaked out at first, but Archer talked sense into them. I originally planned to do it myself, but then the rest of the guys thought it made more sense if we all did it, so it wouldn’t be this weird thing where we came out one right after the next.”              

“Yeah, that makes sense. Did you ever tell your parents? Or did they find out along with the rest of the world?”

“I assume they found out with the rest of the world. As soon as we signed the contract with Epic, I left and never looked back. They’ve never tried to contact me.”

“That sucks.” I squeeze his hand. I could never imagine what it would be like to have parents like Linc’s.

He shrugs. “It is what it is. If my mom tried to contact me, I’d give her a shot. But if I ever hear from my dad…” He shakes his head and trails off.

“This is terrible date conversation, I’m sorry.” I laugh at myself and reach for my wine to sip. “Let’s talk about something fun or sexy.”

“Sexy? Now you have my attention.”

After dinner, we go home and snuggle on the couch together with music playing low in the background.

“You’ll come with me to New York next weekend, right?” he asks as he strokes his hand up and down my arm, his head resting on my chest.

“You want me to come?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I want you to come with me?”

I shrug, trying to ignore the bile that always seems to rise in my throat at any mention of Linc’s real life creeping back in on us. “If you want me there, I’ll come. But I have to be back by Monday for work.”

“No worries. We can get a private flight for the weekend to make it easier.”

“A private flight? Sounds fancy.”

“It’s a nice perk,” he agrees. “We could take a vacation together when the semester is over. Take a private flight to Paris?”

“That sounds amazing,” I agree, holding on to the promise of a future.

“I’ll give you anything to make you happy,” he vows, kissing my chest and clutching my arm like he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

“I know you would, Linc. I love you.”

“Love you, Freckles. Always.”