I was up, dressed and ready to rock and roll when the bus stopped in Oklahoma City. None of the girls had brought anything more than a purse. How in the world they thought they were going to survive on the road, I have no idea, but that was the foresight of thirteen-year-olds for you. One phone call to Celeste procured me both bus tickets and a loaner car to drive them to the bus station.

But before we left, I knocked on Rob’s door and asked him a favor. Once I’d explained—leaving out the part about the heroin because I didn’t feel like getting a new one ripped for me so early in the morning—Rob agreed to come out, talk to the girls, sign autographs, take selfies, and most importantly, tell Jess the truth.

“You really have a new girlfriend?” she asked. I could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

“I do,” he said gently. He was wearing sweats and a t-shirt and still had bed head, and the man was sexy on wheels. All the girls were practically drooling.

“Is it serious?” she asked, sounding hopeful. Like, maybe if she’s not here or anything and maybe if you’re not too serious, there might be hope…

“Don’t tell anyone but...” Rob leaned in to tell just Jess, although I was close enough to hear him. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

Jess’s poor face fell. Mine probably gave away all the shock I felt, at least in the moment. He’d confessed this to me, but I didn’t know he was going to tell Jess. I wondered if he’d conveyed his intentions to Sabrina yet? I doubted it, because while she still said she was completely in love with the man, she often wondered if he felt the same way about her. After all, we only spent one night together, Katie, my practical friend said over and over. I don’t know how we’re supposed to build a relationship on that.

Rob obviously felt differently. Either that, or he was playing it up because he wanted Jess to be able to leave her fantasies behind. It was a strange phenomenon, but nothing quelled a teenage girl’s rock god fantasies faster than learning he was attached. Like they ever had a shot? Millions of fans—one star. The odds weren’t exactly in their favor.

Of course, I was defying them right now, and so was Sabrina. But we were exceptions to the rule. Big, big exceptions. And neither of us knew if we would remain exceptions. Look at Rob’s soon to be ex-wife, Catherine. She once thought she was the exception too, and now she was nothing but a memory and an alimony payment.

“Trust me, you’ll find a guy your age and fall in love and it will be everything you imagine.” Rob put an arm around Jess’s neck, pulled her closer, and kissed her forehead. She looked up at him with stars in her eyes again. She would certainly never forget this moment, ever. “But until then, young lady, I want you to go home, apologize to your parents for running off, and never do anything like this again. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she answered in a small voice, nodding vigorously.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good girl. Now kiss me goodbye.”

He kissed her, just a brief brush on the lips, although she clung to him like she wanted more, and she probably did.

“Be good.” Rob touched her on the tip of the nose with his finger.

“That goes for you two, too!” He waggled his finger at the other girls and they giggled. Even Sandy of the studded armor jacket.

“Okay, girls, let’s go.” I ushered them toward the door. Jess kept looking back over her shoulder at Rob, and I did, too, mouthing, “Thanks.” He gave me a little salute before we stepped off the bus. I noticed Zoey had taken Jess’s hand in hers, and I wondered if maybe Zoey played for the other team and had a little crush on her younger friend. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Jess was quite a bright light.

The Greyhound station was only a mile away. I didn’t just give the girls their tickets and send them off, though, I waited. I got them on the bus, and I even waited until the damned thing pulled out of the station, seeing Jess’s nose pressed against the window. She waved, looking shiny, happy, and that was good. I wanted her to go away satisfied enough she would never, ever come back. There were some experiences in your life so profound, you could feed on them forever. That’s what I’d hoped to give her, and I thought I’d succeeded.

Celeste didn’t ask when I gave her back the keys to the loaner car. Maybe Rob had already filled her in. I hoped so, because I didn’t want to go through it again. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid Lana. She was leaning against the bus wearing Daisy Duke shorts, a button-down shirt tied up under the shelf of her breasts, and flip-flops, smoking the first cigarette of the morning. Her face looked even more orange than ever.

“Hey, listen, those three girls you invited...”

“Rob already lectured me.” She blew smoke out the side of her mouth. “Now I’m not allowed to invite anyone, thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me?”

“If you hadn’t gone and snitched like some two-year-old. Gawd.”

“Okay, Lana.” I shook my head, dismissing her as I moved around her to get on the bus.

“They had I. D,” she snapped. “How was I supposed to know one of them was thirteen?”

“Haven’t you ever looked at Barbie and Skipper next to each other?”

“What?” She blew smoke in my face.

“Never mind.” I left her there, heading onto the bus.

I checked the schedule on the bathroom door and saw we didn’t have to be anywhere until noon. That was good, because I was exhausted from all the drama. All I wanted was a nap. Maybe I could convince Ty to take one with me.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist. He glanced up when I came in but didn’t move.

“Everything good?” he asked.

“Yeah, the three little kittens are on a bus back to Wichita.”

I tossed my purse and toed off my shoes, leaving my jacket where it fell on the floor.

“Good.”

“What’s the matter?” I sat beside him on the bed.

“Just fighting demons.”

“What demons?” That’s when I noticed what he had in his hand. It was the heroin I’d taken from the girls. “Oh… are you winning?”

“Not yet.” He gave me a rueful little smile.

“Do you want some help?”

“I’m fucked already.” He shook his head, grimacing.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I might as well chase this dragon.” He held the baggie up to me like an offering. “The monkey’s already on my back.”

“Too many mixed animal metaphors.” I smiled. “What?”

“I’m hooked on the Oxy,” he explained. “I can’t stop.”

“But the pain’s gone.”

“Yeah. The physical pain’s gone,” he agreed. “Doesn’t matter—I need it. I can’t stop now, or I’ll be no good to anyone for weeks. Or more.”

“The withdrawal, you mean?”

He nodded.

“I think this is what they call rationalizing,” I said softly.

“I call it survival.” He started to open the bag and I felt my heart stop.

“Ty, wait...” I touched his arm, the gravity of what was about to happen hitting me, hard, and he stopped. “I know we’ve been taking too much of the Oxy, but this...”

“The barrier you see between that and this is invisible, baby.” He slipped a hand behind my neck, pressing his forehead to mine. “It’s in your head. This is that.”

“But...” I didn’t have words. I knew it was the same—but it felt different. Vastly different.

“This just happens to be cheaper than that.” Tyler dabbed his finger into the white powder. “And it works a little faster.”

“How much faster?” I had to admit, I was curious. I liked the high the Oxy gave me, that sort of sleepy, free-floating feeling.

“I think it’s some sort of sign.” Tyler looked at the powder on his finger. “It fell right into my damned lap.”

“Maybe it’s a test.”

“I already failed it.” Ty’s voice faltered. “I failed it back when I started smoking weed again, and popping the pills—this one wakes you up, this one puts you to sleep...”

“I know it’s hard, being on the road. I’ve seen it myself now, firsthand.” I leaned my cheek against his arm. “And you’re in so much pain… physical and otherwise...”

He didn’t deny it, and I knew it was true. Something was hurting him, all the time, eating away at him. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it was huge. Far bigger than the monkey on his back. The man had more secrets he hadn’t revealed, but I was patient. I could wait.

“I just wanted to sleep and not be in pain anymore,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t know why that’s too much to ask.”

“It isn’t, Ty, but...”

“Katie, don’t.” His voice hardened. “I can’t wrestle my demons and yours. You do what you want. But you’re either with me, or you’re against me on this. There’s no middle ground.”

I knew what he was saying. I also knew I could walk out that door, go to Rob, and he would fix the problem. That’s what he did, it’s who he was. He’d put Tyler in rehab, tour be damned. He’d do what he had to do for his friend and band mate, I knew he would. But the thought of being separated from Ty made me feel panicky inside, like I had hundreds of mice running through my mid-section. I wanted him well, but I also knew, if we parted now, we’d probably never see each other again. I would be that one girl he’d invited on tour that time, and that would be all.

I didn’t want to be that girl. I wanted to be his girl, now and forever.

I sat there, looking at him, at the eight ball in his hands like it could tell my future, and realized I was holding onto the very same fantasy that Jess was. Sabrina too. We were ridiculously in love with rock stars we didn’t know, who didn’t even know themselves, who did everything they could, from going up on stage to chasing dragons and fighting demons, to keep from really seeing who they were. We were in love with illusions, projections, with the pretty, shiny thing on stage, not the man behind the curtain.

But I was running, just as fast and as far as they were, from who I was too. I didn’t want to think or look or know. I just wanted to feel. I liked the way being with this man made me feel, and what I felt now wasn’t what I’d felt in the beginning. Maybe it wasn’t love then, back before I’d opened myself up to him, back when we were just fan and star, worshiper and idol, and maybe it wasn’t, even now.

But it was the closest I’d ever felt. I loved him, and I didn’t want to lose him.

“Tyler, I love you.” I wanted him to hear those words completely sober—or as sober as we got, at this point. I wanted him to taste them, to chew and digest them slowly, to savor them, but my words only seemed to hurt him more. He actually winced.

“Please, don’t.” That’s all he said. Just—please, don’t. I didn’t know which he meant—don’t say the words, or don’t love him. Maybe both.

“I’m here.” I got as close to him as he’d allow. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you. Whatever happens, I’m in this with you.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know enough to know you’re what I want.”

“I want you too, baby.” He swallowed, closing his eyes and leaning his head against mine. “I want to crawl inside you, but it’s too much. I’d split you in half.”

“Then I’d die happy.”

“It hurts,” he croaked. “Everything hurts.”

“I know.”

“I just… I want it to stop. For five fucking minutes, can’t it just stop?”

“Yes.” I took the baggie from his hands. “It can.”

Maybe it was a magic eight ball after all.

“Fuck.” He winced again like he was in pain, seeing me holding the heroin. “What the hell are we doing?”

“Making the pain go away.” I opened the bag.

Alice fell down the rabbit hole.

Me, I jumped.

I fell a long way before I hit bottom, but when I hit, I hit hard.

Like most bottoms, it came out of nowhere, but everyone else probably saw it coming a mile off. Even Lana saw it coming. She pulled me aside in Little Rock, in the women’s bathroom with a hundred other girls crowding the mirrors, fixing their makeup so they could look perfect at the Trouble concert, so they might be one of the select few picked out of the crowd and added to the list allowed back at the night’s meet and greet.

“Tyler’s high.” She said this like it was news. I knew Tyler was high, I’d mainlined with him just a few hours ago. What I didn’t know was who he was with. I had time to think about how I’d fallen so far, when I got to the bus.

How had we gotten here?

The leap from Oxy to heroin had been big. The one from snorting to mainlining was just a tiny skip across a pond. I was afraid of the needle at first, but Ty did it for me. He’d told me, the first time we mainlined, that it might make me throw up. But he was careful. He only gave me a little bit.

The first time was like fucking, but we didn’t fuck. Didn’t need to. Ty cooked it over a candle—another no-no on the bus, but we’d already broken so many house rules, it wasn’t even funny anymore—and then tied my arm off above the elbow, just like they do when they’re going to draw blood.

He thumped my arm, looking for a vein, something good and deep. His were easy to find, right at the surface. But he was doing me first. My heart pounded in my ears, both in fear and anticipation. I knew what to expect—the rush, the incredible high that made me feel like I was floating—but mainlining was like having the kind of allover body orgasm I got when Tyler fucked me instead of just the fizz-pop I’d get myself in the shower or with a toy.

I watched the needle go in. I wasn’t afraid of needles, but I didn’t like pain. Tyler was better than any nurse I’d ever had draw my blood. I didn’t even feel it enter me. I saw it pierce my arm like it belonged to someone else. Then, he drew the plunger back, just a little, and I saw my own blood float up into the liquid in the syringe like a little red ribbon.

“Ready?” He swallowed, meeting my eyes.

I nodded, and he pressed the plunger down.

It was better than fucking, to tell you the honest to God truth. And I was doing it with Tyler. He searched my face, and it was the same look, I swear, that he gave me when he was fucking me, holding back, waiting for me to come for him. And then I was. Not coming, but… fuck, I don’t even know. It was pure pleasure, nothing more. Liquid bliss. It hit my bloodstream instantly, and my brain a second later.

“Good?” Tyler’s hand on my cheek, brushing my hair back.

I hadn’t realized I closed my eyes. I moaned like I did during sex, biting my lip, feeling it quiver. I didn’t have to answer him, I knew he could see how good it was on my face.

“Good,” he murmured as I started to nod. Whatever it was, it was strong. I was drifting somewhere across the universe. Tyler laid me on the bed, stroking my cheek, and I moaned again, feeling my nipples harden under my t-shirt, my thighs clenching. I wished he was inside me. I felt like if he slipped his cock inside me right then, my body might skyrocket.

This definitely wasn’t the “stepped on” eight ball we got from the three kittens, as I called them now, or the fates, as Cliffie had dubbed them. That was long gone.

This was stuff Tyler had purchased, acquired from the highest-end sources, and it was fucking awesome. He’d said it would be, and he was right.

“Can’t snort this,” he’d told me, looking regretful, knowing his words would scare me, and they had. “Gotta use a needle.”

But he’d been gentle, so very gentle. And the high had been well worth the ride.

“You’ll never forget your first time,” he whispered into my ear as he stretched out beside me, fresh track marks on his arm. It was winter, so we could still wear long sleeves to cover our tracks.

“You popped my cherry.” My smile was faint, my words muttered. I was saying them from far away.

“I love you, Katie.” It was the first time he said those words.

A night of firsts.

Strange, the things you’ll think sweet and romantic when you’re a junkie.

“What do you want, Lana?” I wasn’t in any mood. The sweet euphoric rush right after the needle went in had long worn off and I was already craving more. The concert was over, so the bathroom was extra crowded with women whose bladders were bursting with beer.

“Ty’s high. And… he went back to the bus. With some girls.”

I looked at her, trying to discern her meaning. He took girls back to the bus. Okay. They probably went to get high while Rob was at the meet and greet. Made sense. We’d been skipping out on those for a while now, in spite of Rob’s continual complaints. Her words should have caused alarm in me, but they didn’t. We’d been inseparable for weeks. We shared everything. We’d shared needles for God’s sake. He’d told me he loved me, and he fucked me like he meant it.

I knew he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t—unless you counted using heroin.

Everything was tied to that needle and the sweet, heavenly liquid inside.

“I just… I think you better check on him.” She blinked at me pointedly, like she was trying to send Morse code with her eyes.

“All right. I’m heading back there anyway.” Tyler had sent me backstage to tell Rob we wouldn’t be at the meet and greet, to make some excuse.

Unfortunately, my mysterious “health condition”—the one we’d called the doctor in for when Tyler was in so much pain—was starting to get old. Rob was catching on, and I was glad, in a way, that the tour was almost over. Five more cities, and we’d be done. It was a relief, thinking about not having to hide, to be able to stop lying.

But the fear of what was to come was worse.

We’d been so lost together, neither of us had paid much attention to where we were headed. I didn’t know what was going to happen after the tour. What I knew was that I wanted to be with Tyler. If that meant breaking the lease on my apartment—Tyler had been paying my rent on my empty dwelling for months—and moving to California, I was more than ready to do it.

As soon as he asked me to.

It reminded me of the beginning of the tour, that anticipation, will he ask, or won’t he? I kind of knew it was a foregone conclusion. It was just a matter of when. At least, I hoped so.

The bus was parked out behind the venue. My All-Access pass got me anywhere I wanted to go. I smiled to myself as I sailed past security guards, remembering the very first All-Access pass I’d ever worn, how special, how magical it had seemed, getting backstage to meet the band. Now it was just routine.

The air was cool and there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. It was unusual to do a concert tour in the winter, so Ty had told me, but for some reason their record company had wanted them to do the European leg of the tour during summer. Most of the time, the bus was a hundred thousand degrees unless they turned the air conditioner down to practically freezing, and then everyone wore coats to bed. There was no in between. The same applied in winter, only the opposite. If they turned on the heat, we all broiled. If they left it off, we froze.

I glanced up at the sky, littered with stars, faint and far away under the street lamps that lit the parking lot behind the venue. I heard the voices even before I reached the doors of the bus. Girls. Laughing, screaming, giggling. It reminded me of the three little kittens, the ones I’d managed to get off the bus and out of dodge before they could get Trouble into… well, trouble.

Someone was having a good time.

I grimaced, opening the bus door and climbing on. I expected to find a party in full swing at the front of the bus. That’s where everyone hung out, drank, ate snacks, and generally screwed around after a show. The lights were on, but no one was home. Someone had cleaned up. The dishes were done and away, the table cleared. I stopped, frowning, and heard the giggling and screams again.

They were coming from the back of the bus.

“Ty?” I called, heading down the long hallway.

I didn’t realize how hard my heart was hammering in my chest, how fast my breath was coming, until I stopped outside our bedroom door. Not Ty’s bedroom door, no, not anymore. It was our bedroom, our space. To me, it was a sacred space, the place we laughed, loved, shot each other up and escaped from the world. Even to me, that sounded fucked up, but it was true. I was already enough of a junkie to realize I was drowning, but I was unable to save myself.

Ty and I were in it together, clinging to each other for comfort and warmth.

And was that all?

I didn’t knock. I just opened the door and walked right in, because it was my room, and he was my man, even though he was stretched out completely nude in the middle of our bed, surrounded by not one, not two, but three naked girls. They all had cell phones and they were all taking selfies of themselves with a very nude—and very passed out—Tyler Cook.

“Get the fuck out.” I didn’t scream or yell, but all three of them started scrambling for their clothes, already apologizing. I guess something in my voice made them react that way. Or maybe it was the look on my face. I have no idea.

Once they were mostly dressed and had grabbed their stuff, they slunk past me like dogs with their tails between their legs in their short skirts and high heels, their tits spilling out of their blouses. I wanted to grab them by the hair and knock their skulls together, like in the cartoons. I wanted to put my hands around their necks and strangle them so hard I left finger-shaped bruises. I wanted to kill them. All three of them. That’s how much rage heated my chest as I watched them make their way to the front of the bus.

Instead, I walked them to the door.

“I’m sorry,” one of the girls murmured, but I didn’t acknowledge it as I pushed past them to the door and stood in front of it.

“Delete them,” I demanded. “Take your phones out and delete everything.”

I was tempted to just take their phones instead, but I didn’t. They looked at each other, hesitating, and that just made me madder.

“If you don’t delete every single picture you took, I’m going to shove those cell phones so far up your asses, you’ll be sneezing SIM cards.” I looked around at the group of them, still itching to throw a punch. “You’re not going to spread any rumors, do you understand me? And you can go spread chlamydia somewhere else!”

All three of them took out their phones and started pushing buttons. When they’d showed me their picture files—and when I made sure they weren’t in the trash folder—I let them file past me out the door.

“Sorry your boyfriend wanted to fuck me,” one of them called over her shoulder.

“Sweetheart, he wouldn’t fuck you for practice.”

I shut the door behind them, still so angry I was shaking. I had to sit down at the kitchen table for a minute to let myself calm down. Seeing Tyler in the middle of that impromptu selfie orgy had shaken me to my core. I was awake, aware, and in pain—for the first time in weeks. I’d been numb for so long, I almost didn’t recognize the feeling at first. It started in my chest, just a tickle at first, something tugging at my heart. Then it began to burn. A searing pain, like someone was trying to tear my very soul from inside my body.

I leaned over and put my head between my knees, sure for a moment that I was going to puke. When that feeling passed, I sat up, looking around the bus I’d called home for the past several months. Such a tiny space. But it was familiar and comforting all the same. All the venues were different, a maze of hallways and back alleys—I understood, now, how Tyler and Rob had mistaken those doors for a restroom back in Detroit—even the hotel rooms changed, but our bus was constant. It was home.

I made my way back to our room. Tyler was still passed out naked on the bed and I saw a spoon and a syringe sitting on the ledge above our bed. He’d come back here to get high. Why he’d brought the girls with him, I didn’t know. Maybe they’d just tagged along, and he’d let them because he was in a hurry to come back here. He’d told me to meet him here, so he hadn’t planned it. Whatever went down, it had been an impulsive thing.

Not that it lessened my pain one iota to know that.

I sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at him. My God, he was beautiful. Even skinny—we’d both lost weight since we stopped smoking so much weed and started mainlining heroin. It was a great side effect. Sort of. I traced the ridges of his abdomen, achieved by a hundred sit-ups every morning, hung over or not. Even when he was strung out, there were things Tyler was vigilant about. He never missed a show. He never missed a workout. He might pass out, but he never checked out. He was always with me, even when we were high.

Maybe more, when we were high.

He’d told me things he’d never told anyone when he was high, in the slow, muttered words of a junkie. He’d confessed growing up in foster care, how it was for him to live poor, without a mother or a father. And I’d told him things too, about my life, my parents’ divorce, how much I hated and blamed myself sometimes. I wondered if we would have gotten so close, so fast, if we hadn’t fallen down this rabbit hole together, if we hadn’t had this secret to keep. We’d been allied against Rob, trying to keep it from him, and we’d mostly succeeded, I think. Rob was preoccupied with Sabrina. I knew they Skyped together every night and I talked to Sabrina a couple times a week. Okay, maybe once a week since we started mainlining. But she was preoccupied too. Madly in love with her rock star.

Almost as madly in love as I was with mine. Maybe.

I touched Tyler’s cheek. He hadn’t shaved this morning and had a sexy little stubble going on. The girls loved it. I did too. I leaned in and kissed it, feeling it tickle my lips, my tears, finally falling, dropping onto his cheek.

“Katie?” He stirred, my sleeping, beautiful rock god, and the first thing he did was call my name.

“I’m here.”

“Did you take off my clothes?” His words were slurred, and his eyes fluttered open again and he frowned down at his nude state for a moment. Then the dragon pulled him back in.

He didn’t remember anything. He’d been nodding off when those three sluts had decided to undress him and take selfies, probably so they could tell everyone they had a little mini-orgy with Tyler Cook from Trouble. I still had visions of those pictures showing up on TMZ. Rob had thrown a fit about some girl leaking photos of her and Nick Franco, Trouble’s bass player, petting backstage—I couldn’t imagine what he would do if actual naked pictures leaked out.

“Want me to do it?” Tyler’s eyes half-opened again, his head coming up, then going back down again.

I knew what he was asking. Just looking at the spoon and the syringe had me jonesin’ for a high. My arm actually itched. And I could. I knew how to do it myself now—Ty had me do him all the time. Up until now I’d kind of enjoyed being a junkie. I loved the high. I loved the secret we shared. I loved the connection it created between us. We were in this together, no matter what, both of us hooked, on the drug and on each other.

What part of me had looked at Lana when she told me Ty had gone back to the bus with three girls and had thought, “Oh well?” Was I that numb? That disconnected from my own feelings? That scared me. Because seeing Ty naked with those three girls had finally, nearly broken me. I could share anything with this man, and I had—but I couldn’t share him. That’s where I had to draw the line, even if he was passed out and completely unaware anything had happened.

And I’d be stupid to think this couldn’t happen again. This, or worse.

I looked back at the spoon and syringe sitting on the ledge.

I wanted it more than I could say.

I wanted it even more than I wanted him, if I was being honest, and that scared me too.

I stroked Tyler’s stubbly cheek, my tears falling on his chest, but he wasn’t feeling them. He wasn’t feeling anything at all. He was somewhere else, blissed out, gone. How many times had we done this together? I’d been kidding myself, all along, I realized, believing this man loved me, wanted me. He didn’t care who was in the room when he was getting high, as long as it was someone.

I thought we’d been sharing this together, but we’d just been sharing it next to each other.

My heart broke. I’d heard that expression a thousand times, but never really knew what it meant until then. It didn’t break in half or shatter, it fucking exploded in my chest in a messy, red spray of gore and I died. I put my head down on Ty’s chest and sobbed, my heart bleeding out the last of me. I loved him so much it hurt to look at him, and worse, it hurt to look at myself. I would have done anything to be with him, anything. Becoming a junkie was nothing. Kicking women out of his bedroom, nothing. I had lied, cheated, stolen, and would have killed, if I had to, just to protect him and what we had.

But what did we have? We had each other, we had the needle, and we had the tour. And when the tour was over? Then what? Part of me already knew. I imagined going back to my little apartment without Ty, with a great big monkey on my back. I owned that monkey now, it was mine, no one else’s. And maybe it wasn’t as big as Ty’s, but I was smaller, and to me, it felt enormous.

I could feel the weight of it as I laid there, my wet cheek against Ty’s bare chest, staring at the needle. That fucking needle. I wanted it and I hated wanting it. I’d become addicted, not just to the heroin itself, but to the sting of the needle too, and that rush, that glorious rush, which had never been quite as good as the first time. I needed more, now, to get me high, and I never reached those heights again. They were long gone.

Tyler coughed in his sleep, jarring me out of my reverie. I looked at him, frowning, and he coughed again. He was completely gone now, hands open and limp, eyes only half-closed but completely unseeing. If I’d come right back to the bus with him, we’d both be just as high, passed out, in our own little worlds. The cough came again, but this time vomit came with it. It filled his mouth as he coughed, his body shaking, but he didn’t wake up. He was far too gone for that.

“Shit!” I swore, grabbing his shoulder and turning him. It was easier than it would have been early on in the tour. He weighed less now.

Hot, wet vomit streamed out of his mouth onto the covers. Then he coughed again and sprayed it on the wall, all over me, everywhere. I gagged, grabbing a pillow and yanking off the pillow case, wiping it away from his face, actually digging into his mouth to get the rest. Then he did it again, the gag reflex working all on its own, even while he was unconscious. The smell of pizza and beer hit me, and I remembered Cliffie carrying in a case of beer and five large pizzas into the dressing room before the show.

Tyler coughed again, several times, but then was still. His breathing returned to normal, deep, even, slow. Christ, what a mess. I held my breath, trying not to gag as I began to clean him up. I stripped the sheet out from under him, the pillowcase off his pillow, everything, rolling it up into a ball and shoving it into a corner. I found an extra sheet in the closet and covered us up with that. I was shivering by that time, and not from cold, but from fear.

Tyler was on his side and I spooned him. The whole room smelled like vomit and I thought that was strangely fitting. I was disgusted with myself and even considered, for a moment, shooting myself up with enough dope to send me out too. Completely. Forever. But I didn’t move. I held onto Ty, my hand over his heart, feeling it beating, slow and steady, and I cried. I cried for the first time in weeks, maybe years. I’d been so numb, for so long, and even as my body craved the thing that would take the pain away again, I denied myself.

He would have died. If I hadn’t been there, he would have choked on his own vomit like so many other rock stars before him and just… died. I could see the headlines. Hear the commentary. So tragic. So talented. Such a waste. It was horrifying, sick, ghastly. There was nothing glamorous or exciting about this. This was the terrible, sordid truth about this life. The man in my arms was a barely breathing example of how it could all go wrong.

And I loved him more than words could say.

Even with all the pain and the drugs, even with the blackouts and the numbness and the endless stream of dope, I was clear enough to know that much. I was deeply, madly in love with him, maybe even more now that I knew who he really was. The shine had rubbed off the rock star image a long time ago. We’d been scratching each other’s monkey’s backs for a month or more, he’d seen me sweating, aching, begging him for a hit when I’d tried, unsuccessfully, just a few weeks ago, to quit. I’d cleaned up his vomit and stuck my fingers in his mouth to look for more.

I’d come into a room to find him naked with three other women.

And I was still in bed with him.

That was either love or madness. Or maybe both.

“I love you, Ty,” I whispered, feeling my own hot tears welling up again as I kissed his shoulder.

But in the end, I knew love wasn’t enough. It wasn’t going to get us through this. We needed help. I knew where to go for it, but I also knew it would ruin this. Us. Ty would never forgive me. I could save him. I could even save myself. But in doing so, I’d have to give him up. What else is new, Katie? You lose everything you love, eventually. Why had I ever believed that Ty would be any different?

And some, secret part of me knew I’d been expecting this all along.

My body was already twitching, my muscles contracting, expanding, like they were trying to crawl out of my skin, to reach the needle, the thing they craved the most. But I needed to think, I needed to be clear, as clear as I could be.

So, I stayed awake, aware, feeling weeks, months, years of pain rushing back in, staring at the tip of the needle hanging off the ledge until I finally decided what I had to do.