'Til The Last Lyric (Life of Debauchery #2 ) - M. Robinson
Chapter 1
“If you stand for nothing you’ll fall for anything.”
-Bob Dylan
<>Cash<>
Now: Thirty-years-old
“Mmm...” I groaned in my sleep. My head fuckin’ pounded to its own beat, feeling as though my brain was about to explode. “Mmm...” I moaned again, trying to get my eyes to open to no avail.
Rapidly, they fluttered a mile a minute until they finally won the battle against my scrambled mind. I willingly shoved away the sleepy haze and took in my surroundings. A cold, dark abandoned warehouse was the only thing in my sight.
How the fuck did I get here?
I sat up from the grimy, disgusting, worn-out mattress I was apparently sleeping on and grabbed ahold of my throbbing skull as if it would magically make the discomfort disappear. The smell of piss, shit, and God knows what else assaulted my senses.
Filth everywhere.
Walls covered in graffiti decorated every corner of the piece of shit building. Piles of trash, infested rats, and ghostlike junkies who appeared dead laid dormant around me.
What the fuck?
I was Cash Motherfuckin’ McGraw, waking up with drug addicts like I was one of them. The last thing I remembered was feeling no pain, exactly the way I wanted. If only I could feel the same way all the time. Maybe then I wouldn’t find myself in circumstances like these, wishing I’d used better judgment.
Goddamn it.
I needed to get back to the tour bus.
To my bandmates.
To Journey.
My June.
I stood, stumbling to find my footing to remain upright. I was dizzy, tired, fuckin’ restless to the bone. Every sentiment hit me tenfold and blinded the hell outta me.
What did you do, Cash? What the fuck did you do?
My sunken eyes wandered down to where I was laying, taking in the pipe and needle on the dingy floor.
Oh, God ... please no.
Instantly, I rolled up the sleeves of my hoodie, desperately searching for the track marks on my arms. Breathing out a huge sigh of relief when I saw no such thing existed. I threw off my shoes next to check my toes.
Nothing.
I didn’t stop there. I inspected every inch of my body where I could have possibly shot up, coming up clean.
Thank fuck.
I was known to be careless, but the last thing I wanted was to share needles with these fuckers. Especially now that Journey was in my care. I made a mental note to get tested anyway, for her.
With one foot in front of the other, I walked outta this hellhole. Tossing a few hundreds to the woman who was alone.
“Thank you! Oh, my goodness, thank you! You’re an angel!”
“I’m no such thing,” I replied to her. “Don’t spend it all on drugs. Get yourself some fuckin’ food.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you Cash Mc—”
“No.” Throwing the hood over my head, I quickly left. Flying outta there faster than a bat outta hell. I called Beck from my cell phone.
“Where the fuck are you?” he answered in a sharp tone.
“Not a fuckin’ clue.”
“Vince is going to fucking murder you,” he roared, referring to our manager.
“Vince can suck my dick.”
“Yeah, Tony’s going to love that,” he added, talking about the CEO of our record label.
“They work for us, Beck. Not the other way around.”
“Jude! How the fuck do I use my phone to find him again?!”
“Shhh! You’re gonna wake up Junie!”
“Oi! She’s what you’re worried about, you prick?!”
“Beck, I mean it. Shut the fuck up!”
“She went to sleep like three hours ago. Trust me, mate, I’m not going to wake her. She was waiting up for your arse, but I made her go to bed.”
She was?
My unsteady hands tugged the hair away from my face, holding it behind my head. “She pissed?’
“No, you wanker. She’s fucking thrilled. Shitting rainbows and Skittles. Loves the fact you ran away and now we can’t find you.”
“Found him,” Jude interjected. “Why the fuck are you there?”
“Don’t ask. Just get here.”
I hung up, slipping my phone into my pocket to tend to my splitting headache. Taking a seat on the curb, I lit up a cigarette and waited.
Feeling as if I'd spent my whole life doing just that.
With my face tucked between my knees, I sat there for I didn’t know how long contemplating if this was what death felt like. Until I heard the engine of our tour bus approaching. Silently praying Journey wasn’t awake yet. It pulled up right in front of me with the door already open. Ronnie, our driver, knew better than to say something to me as I stepped on.