Notable Occasions on the Calendar of Dread

Things became vastly different after that; Mikey and I hardly spoke, then again, I hardly spoke at all. Days came and went, I denied more meals than I ate, and loathed myself more than I loved. I still felt as though I was in the hospital, I would look at the clock and image what was happening beneath those walls. Genevieve didn't call or text, which I wasn't surprised by, but part of me still felt as though she might try to contact me. Today was Wednesday, which means I had spent a mere three days on my newest treatment plan—what a load of bullshit.

Mark seemed to like my company, or so he claimed. "It's different" he would start. "Having someone unordinary with us". I wasn't part of the band, or the crew members, or press. I was just someone who was against their will and along for the ride. It hardly fazed me. I either spent my time in one of the bunks reading whatever I could get my hands on, or wandering the streets, looking for a purpose. My lips hit coffee cups more than they produced words, and I was in serious need of a shower. Gerard said that came with the territory.

My wrist wound was healing, at least for the time being, Ray said taking the bandage off soon my aplify that. Apparently he took an first aid course in high school. I knew, and probably everyone else did too, that the minute I left I would end up back on the bathroom floor, or burning in hell. One seemed more desirable than the other.

A geat in my head moved and I decided to turn off my phone. Was I really ready to start my life as Lacey Holland? I kept that question in the back of my mind, lit up like an old fluorescent sign waiting to be set ablaze.

"Lacey?" Mark started. "Why don't you come back stage with us, and chill there during the performance?" He suggested.

"She's not part of the crew, they won't let her back there." Travis, their drummer insisted.

"I'll say she's my date. How about it, Lacey?" Mark asked.

"Jackass you're married with children," Travis said.

"Quit fucking around," Mark barked at him. "What do you say, Lacey?" He asked, eyebrows raised.

"Only if you refill me coffee," I stated.

"So you're a groupie now?" Frank jokingly asked me, as we made our way back stage, Mark's arm around my honey shoulders.

"Do you want to feel how hard I can punch?" I asked him with a glare. He rolled his eyes and I raised my lip to make a childish face back at him.

The backstage of the venue was more amazing than I anticipated. Wires tangled into piles and attendants running around to check, and re-check everything to make sure it was in working order. However, off to the corner, leading off to the stage was a small set of metal stairs perfect for someone my size. I abandoned the group I was walking with (they had gone off in different directions anyways) and maneuvered my way under the stairs. I crouched slightly to make sure I was completely under it and turned around to sit down, and stretched my legs out in front of me. I reached into my bag (that now I never let out of my site) and fidgeted around until I found my notebook and a pencil.

I thought of now, out of all the time I spent with them, it wouldn't be a bad idea to maybe write and sketch a little. I flipped through the notebook to see if there were any previous takers before me, and when I saw that it was completely blank, I began.

My pencil danced around the page, creating words I didn't think I was capable of stringing together, creating a page to captivate its reader.

"Whatcha got there?" A voice said above me, Andy I looked up to see Gerard, I should've smelled the stench of cigarette smoke a mile away.

"I'm writing and drawing," I said, sounding more of a question than the answer.

"I didn't know you liked art!" He exclaimed.

"Well, Gerard, there is a lot you don't know about me." I mused back, not taking my eyes off of my work.

"That is true, perhaps someday you'll enlighten me." He said back. I wasn't going to open my mouth to him any time soon, that's for sure, but I didn't tell him that.

The stairs shifted slightly as attendants ran up and down them, and Gerard went off in another direction to meet up with his brother, who was wearing the shirt I granted when I arrived and had his eyes covered by the sunglasses.

"What's she doing under there?" Mikey asked, bumming a cigarette from Gerard and lighting it, blowing the smoke off in the opposite direction.

"Believe it or not, art!" Gerard exclaimed. "I'd love to see some of her work, too," he added, causing Mikey to nod.

"How is the whole thing going?" Gerard then asked him, causing me to focus my attention onto their conversation.

"Well it sucks, but it's going," he answered. I was already dying to know more. Shivers went up and down my spine, the people that I had seen in record labels and magazine covers were standing less that ten feet away from me, and I was getting a glimpse into their all too private life. I guess it never really hit me until now. I kept a my ears tuned into their conversation but kept working on what was in my notebook.

My pencil danced elgantly over the paper, thick streaks coming from the lead. Honestly, it was a feeling I missed, being able to write without a care in the world. No worry of assignment, lack of freedom, doctors, the hopital, and to just be free. That what writing is about. Before I had noticed, I had written almost five pages, not having to worry about the doctors that would go behind my back and read it.

I didn't notice (nor did I care) how much time had passed until I looked up and Mikey was standing near me.

"Are you going to be staying here for the show?" He asked me, observing my presence under the stairs. i simpleton nodded.

"You have talent," he said to me, noticing some of the words that were scattered around my page. The compliment made my stomach flip and caused me to hug my notebook in the midst of the self-doubt. I asked him if he had any aspirin, claiming my wrist wound was hurting and he went off to fetch me some.

He he returned and tossed the bottle in my direction, causing me to catch it and open the cap to spill out several in my hand. I knew he was still watching me, only to advert his attention the his phone buzzing in his pocket. He turned away to answer it, and I swallowed five pills, enjoying the bitter taste. To my left, Mikey was mumbling into his phone.

"No—well I mailed them out yesterday from where we are staying." He said.

A pause.

"How long do you think it will take?" He asked.

Another pause.

"That fast? Oh good." He mumbled.

Why was he so surprised? Stop getting so caught up with him, Jade. No, I'm Lacey now.

More pills? I thought to myself. On top of the five you just took, more would likely send me into a coma. "Fine with me," I mumbled to myself.

Notes

Trigger warning.