She pursed her lips and said nothing more.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed with her. So what if I’d lost weight? It wasn’t like it mattered. I wasn’t in here for an eating disorder. I’d snorted cocaine. Focus here, woman.

“Follow me, please.” She opened the door and walked back into the hallway.

I followed silently behind her as we made our way down the hall. She stopped in front of a door with the name Dr. Peters written on it. She knocked softly before swinging the door open and stepping back to let me pass by. I walked in and looked around. The office was nice. There wasn’t much in the decorations department, and the room was crammed full of filing cabinets. A large wooden desk sat in the center with a few chairs surrounding it.

A man, Dr. Peters I assumed, was sitting behind the desk. He looked up and smiled as we entered. He was older, probably in his late fifties, with a large bald spot and several lines etched onto his face.

“Hi, Lisa. What can I help you with?” he asked.

“This is Drake Allen, our newest patient.” The nurse walked to his desk and handed him my file.

“Thank you, Lisa.” Still in his seat, he leaned forward toward me and extended his hand. “Hi, Drake. I’m Dr. Peters. It’s good to meet you.”

I was surprised by his strong Southern accent. I didn’t think it was common out here in California.

I stepped forward and shook his hand. This guy was my ticket to getting out of here, so I figured it would be a good idea to get on his good side. “Likewise.”

He glanced up at the nurse. “I can take it from here, Lisa. Thank you for checking him in.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, just call the front desk,” Lisa said before walking out the door.

“All right, Drake. If you don’t mind waiting for a few minutes, I’d like to go over your file really quick.”

“Sure.” I sat down across from him.

I waited patiently as he flipped through the pages in the file.

After a few minutes, he put my file on the desk and looked up at me. “Well, now that I’ve read who you are on paper, why don’t you tell me in your own words what’s been going on with you?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sorry? I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“I can sit here and read your file all day, but when it comes right down to it, I don’t give a shit what’s in this file. I want to hear from you about where you’re at in your life.”

“Did you just say shit?” I asked, shocked.

“I did. Don’t act so surprised. I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“But…you’re a doctor. Isn’t there some kind of code that says you have to be an uptight asshole?”

He laughed. “I think I’m going to like you, Drake. And no, there’s no code against my vocabulary. You might as well get used to it.”

I had to admit that I liked this guy. I wasn’t sure if this was his way of getting into my head or what, but it was working. I had expected to work with some doctor who had a stick shoved up his ass.

“So, tell me what’s been happening. I know you’re here to get treatment for your cocaine addiction, and that’s a hard thing to do.”

“What do you want to know?” I asked.

“Everything. Why did you start? Why do you want to stop? What is your favorite food?”

I laughed. “Pop Tarts on that last one. The rest isn’t so simple.”

“I’ve got time.”

I sighed as I ran my hands through my hair. I sucked at this sharing stuff. He seemed like a cool guy, but I didn’t want to sit around a campfire with him, singing “Kumbaya” and talking about my feelings.

“I don’t know why I started. I guess I used it to escape something that happened.”

“And what was that something?”

“I thought my girlfriend was cheating on me. It turned out that I had been wrong, but I couldn’t seem to stop after that. Then, other things happened, and I started using more. I thought I had it under control but apparently not. Now, I’m here, so you can fix me.”

“I can’t fix you, Drake. Only you can do that, but I am here to help you. I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that has happened since you thought your girlfriend was cheating on you.”

I opened my mouth and did what he’d asked. I started with the pictures Kadi had given me and went from there. I discussed everything that had happened with Logan, Jordan, and Chloe’s mother’s death. When I got to the part about Chloe leaving me, I had to stop for a moment. It hurt too much to think about what I’d lost.

When I finished, I felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest. I always kept everything trapped inside, and it felt nice to put all my cards on the table for someone else to deal with.

“It sounds like you’ve been through a lot over the last few months. I saw in your file that you were enrolled in a program similar to this when you were younger. Knowing that you’ve abused drugs before, I can understand why it was so simple for you to fall back into them. Those who have used drugs often consider them a safe haven.”

“Yeah, that’s a good way to put it—a safe haven. It felt like no one could touch me when I used them.”

“Exactly. Obviously, you know better now, or you wouldn’t be sitting in my office. The physician who treated you at the hospital had your file sent over earlier today, and I skimmed through it. I have to say that you’re very lucky to be alive. The amount of cocaine in your system was excessively high. When mixed with alcohol, it makes what I like to call, the undertaker’s cocktail. Before we move any further, I need you to give me an honest answer to a difficult question. Did you do that to yourself on purpose?”

I’d been staring at the carpet, but my head snapped up at his words. “You think I tried to kill myself?”

“If you did, there’s no need to feel ashamed. You haven’t had the best of luck these past few months. Combining that with cocaine could lead to suicidal thoughts.”

I held up my hand. “Let’s just stop right there. I would not kill myself, no matter how bad things got. Am I depressed? Sure. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to go off myself.”

“That’s good to hear. Don’t take offense to my questions. I’m simply trying to get to know you better.”

“None taken.”

He nodded. “Good. So, anyway, back on the matter at hand. While in the hospital, you agreed to go into this program. Why?”

“I didn’t have any other options. If I didn’t do this, then the band and the label said they would drop me. I was forced to be here.”

“No one can force you to do anything, Drake. You need to make the decision on your own, or nothing I do will benefit you. I can sit here and preach to you all day, but until you realize that you need help, nothing I say will matter.”

“I don’t need help. I’ve been clean for over a week. I told them that I could do this on my own, but they refused to listen.”

“Being clean and staying clean are two totally different things. While you might feel like you can handle your addiction now, what will you do when things get tough? Cocaine was your coping mechanism, and you will feel the need to use it again. What I’m here for is to help you come to terms with your addiction and to help you learn to deal with things in a healthier way.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say. I understood where he was coming from, but I didn’t think that I would relapse. The hell that I had just gone through in the hospital was enough to scare me away from it for a long time.

But what if he was right? What if I contacted Chloe, and she didn’t want anything to do with me even if I was clean? I didn’t know if I could handle that. Life was always so fucking hard, and I’d refused to deal with it. I always found a way to make me forget—drugs, women, and finally Chloe. I didn’t accept anything. I evaded.

“I think we’ve chatted enough for one day. I will have one of the nurses take you to your room, so you can get settled in. I want to meet with you tomorrow to start our sessions. Does that sound good to you?” Dr. Peters asked as he smiled at me.

“Do I have a choice?” I asked, sarcasm filling my voice.

He smiled. “You always have a choice, Drake.”

* * *

After a nurse took me to my room, I spent the rest of the evening unpacking the bag Jade had left for me at the front desk. It had pissed me off that I hadn’t been allowed to bring it to my room myself, but of course, the nurses had to search it before I could have it back. The band had known that I had hidden cocaine in my hotel room previously, and they had refused to let me pack my belongings by myself just in case I had more hidden, so they’d done it for me. I’d felt highly annoyed with them, but I’d let it go. It had been one of those pick-your-battles kind of moments.

The nurse had taken my cell phone with her when she left, much to my annoyance. According to her, it was a policy to take all cell phones from patients when they entered the program. She said something about not letting the outside world affect me while I was in the process of getting better. It might be policy, but that didn’t mean I was happy about it.

I hated that I felt truly here, but I was more concerned about the fact that I couldn’t contact Chloe. Even though I hadn’t contacted her in months, I still had her number in my cell. There had been so many times when I’d picked it up to call her, only to throw the phone. Now, it felt like any connection I had with her, no matter how small, was gone. I wished that she were here. I always felt like a loose cannon when she wasn’t around. There was just something about her that always calmed me.

The nurse had given me a sheet of paper that listed all the center’s rules. I quickly read through it. Most of them were simple—no drugs, no fighting, and other things like that. The only positive part of the entire day was that I was allowed to smoke, and I headed outside to do just that. If they’d also taken smoking away from me, I wasn’t sure I would last in here. I couldn’t give up all my nasty habits at once.

Everything around here was on a schedule. Along with specific times for meals and recreational activities, I had a specific time that I would meet with Dr. Peters each day. I was surprised that I wasn’t given a bathroom schedule, too. Due to my connection with the label, Brad exerted a lot of pressure, and I was excused from group therapy sessions. The label didn’t want it getting out to the press and our fans that I was in here. It would be bad for business.

I headed back inside and returned to my room. After settling in for the night, I tossed and turned for over an hour before I finally passed out.

7

“It’s good to see you again, Drake. Please close the door behind you and have a seat,” Dr. Peters said.

I stepped inside his office and did as he’d said. I sat down in the chair across from him.

“I hope your first night here was pleasant.”

“It was fine. Thank you.” In all honesty, I had expected to hear people screaming throughout the night, like I had seen in movies, but the place had been completely silent. Maybe they really didn’t torture people to death in here.

“Glad to hear it. Now, let’s get down to business.”

Or maybe they did torture us.

“Sure. Why not?”

He smiled at me. “I promise you that this will be a lot easier if you cooperate with me. Instead of thinking of this as a punishment, consider it a surprise vacation. Maybe that will help you to accept it better.”

“Bring on the drinks and the beach,” I grumbled.

I was extra cranky this morning, and unfortunately for Dr. Peters, he was getting the shit end of the deal. I didn’t want to be here, and I had no intentions of spilling my guts like I had yesterday.

“That’s the spirit!” He laughed. Apparently, he wasn’t familiar with sarcasm. “Yesterday, we skimmed over the last few months. Today, I want to go back a bit further. We mentioned a prior drug issue, and I’d like to go over it.”

Great. I would be spending the day talking about my dead parents and my stupidity during my high school years. Just throw me off the damn building, and put me out of my misery.

“Yippee.”

“I know this is hard for you, Drake, but you need to open up to me, so we can figure out why you keep turning to drugs. Can you tell me why you started using them when you were younger?” Dr. Peters asked.

“I was just a kid and bored most of the time. My friends did them, so I did, too. I’m just a good example of peer pressure.”