“You’re one of the best I’ve seen, and you’re still a damn teenager. I’d hate to lose you. The guys would hate to lose you, but you’re no good to us if we have to worry about you swallowing your own tongue because you’re too fucked up to see straight. One night leads to two, to three. You’ll keep getting closer to that cliff and I’ll be damned before all our hard work goes to waste because you couldn’t handle it.”

Handle it? How do I handle this? The feeling that everyone at a show is inside me, taking over my insides and jumping on my heart. Pills are the only things that dull the chaos in my head.

Mom reaches over and touches my shoulder. “I only want you okay. I don’t care about the band. I care about you. We need to do what’s best for you.”

If that were true, she wouldn’t be listening to Don. “The guys won’t go for this. They have my back.” We’re on top of the world right now. Three number-one singles in the past six months and he wants me to hide out?

He rubs his beard. “You disappeared for a day in Tokyo. You passed out and missed that interview in New York. You missed a band meeting the same day you downed a bunch of pills. They’re not going to have your back on this. And they’ve also been instructed not to talk to you while you’re gone. You’re stepping away from everything while you’re there.”

“I—” They’re not allowed to talk to me. The guys, my bandmates, know about this. They sold me out. I’ve talked to every one of them this week and no one said anything about Alaska.

Don cuts me off before I can think of something to say. He sighs, his body going a little limp like he actually cares. “We have nothing going on for the next couple months. The guys are all taking some time off. This is the perfect chance for you to figure out what you want. To back your ass away from the cliff. You have two months to get it together or you’re out. That’ll give us enough time to pull someone in before the tour.”

Out. As in out of the band. It’s like the crowd is inside my chest again. I struggle to slow my breathing. This is my life. Drumming is my life. “You’re going to take music away from me?”

I look at Mom, but she lets her eyes drift closed.

“No, kid. You’re going to take music away from you.” Don’s stern face doesn’t change.

“I don’t have a problem,” I blurt out.

“Then it won’t bother you to take a vacation.”

I throw my arms in the air. “Fine, but I don’t call Alaska in February a vacation spot. I get to pick the place.”

Don actually laughs. “You lost your chance to negotiate. It’s Seldon, Alaska, or nothing. Troy grew up around there, and he and Gary go back every once in a while. You can’t get into much trouble there and unlike L.A., it’s the kind of place you can hide out, because I swear to God, if I see your face plastered on a tabloid cover like you’re Lindsay fucking Lohan, you’re out. I’m not dealing with that shit anymore.”

Mom shifts, her serious matching Don’s. “It’ll be an adventure, Bishop. We’ve never been to Alaska. It’ll be like when you were younger—just the two of us.”

Those words shock my system. I feel like I really am trying to swallow my tongue like Don said. I can’t do this with Mom. Can’t handle the way she looks at me. Can’t handle her chewing her pink-painted nails, scared I’m going to lose it at any second. Push her graying brown hair behind her ear and know I’m probably giving her more of it.

I shake my head. “Not her. I…I can’t go with her. If it’s her, I walk.” I look at Mom, hoping she’ll get it. Hoping she sees I’m not trying to hurt her, but instead she gasps, her chin starting to tremble.

She looks over at Don, and I know he’ll save her, but he surprises me by saying, “No. Gary’s been through this before. He’s got this.”

Mom looks as surprised as I am that he’s sending me with his brother.

…

We decided it would be better if no one knows who I am. And by we, I mean Don, but whatever. I get it. It’s not like I want people to know I’m stuck in some shithole town with people who probably marry their cousins.

We dyed my bleached hair back to its original dark brown. Don wanted my lip ring gone, but there’s no way I’m losing it. They’re already shipping me off like some degenerate drug addict. I think I’m being pretty damn accommodating.

Frustrated, I put my feet up on the dashboard.

“How are you feeling? Any withdrawal symptoms or anything?”

What? I look at my bodyguard, Gary. “First of all, it’s been over a week since the party. If I were going to withdraw, wouldn’t it have already happened? Second, I’m not a pill-head! I don’t take that shit every day. That’s what you guys don’t get.”

“You don’t have to take something every day for it to be a problem.” There’s a tenseness in Gary’s voice I don’t often hear from him, but I ignore it.

After what feels like a year, Gary pulls off the snow-covered road and into a snow-covered driveway in the middle of too many snow-covered trees to count. “It’ll serve you guys right if I get attacked by a bear or something.” As soon as I say it, I realize how stupid it sounds, but I don’t care.

“Bears are asleep this time of year,” is all Gary says.

Ignoring him, I look at the microscopic cabins in front of us. They’re the size of the hotel rooms from when we first started. Now, we always stay in suites.

“They don’t usually rent them out this time of year, so we paid for the whole thing. They don’t know who you are, so now’s the time to tell me if you’re going to create an alias.”

I drop my head to the side and look at him. He’s Don’s brother, but their last name is where the resemblance ends. Don’s huge. Gary’s small and thin. Don’s all business. Gary thinks he’s a comedian. Don is straight as they come. Gary is gay. There’s something about Gary that makes you not want to screw with him, though. Maybe it’s his big-ass, bodybuilding boyfriend.

“This isn’t a game, man. It’s my life.”

Gary shrugs. “Your call. You need to at least lose the last name, though. You can be like Madonna. All the really cool rock stars go by one name.” He winks.

I curse under my breath. We just got here, and I’m already over it. “Funny.”

I move to get out of the car, but he stops me. “You can do this, Bishop. I know it’s tough, but you can do it. Troy was a whole hell of a lot worse than you before he got clean. He went to rehab, and when he finished, we came here to recoup. Not the cabins, but his parents’ house. Did Don tell you Troy grew up here?”

I’m still trying to sort through what he said. I never knew his boyfriend used to be an addict. And I hate that they’re comparing me to that. After pulling my arm away, I get out of the car. He’s right behind me. “Since we have the whole place, I want my own cabin.” Really, I’m still thinking about Troy and how they think I need the same treatment as someone who went to rehab.

He walks to the trunk and opens it. “We’re next door to each other and you get random check-ins. I’ll also be searching your cabin often, and before we separate, I’m looking through your bag and your clothes. You go anywhere, you have to ask first. I want to see you before you go and when you come home. You also can’t be gone for longer than a couple hours at a time.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not done. We also have sit-down talks at least once a week. We’re also getting you on some kind of schedule. When Troy got clean, he started working out. I’m starting you with an hour walk daily. Sometimes we’ll go together, others you can go alone. It’ll be good for you to have some time being at one with nature.” Gary’s eyebrows go up. He’s obviously enjoying this.

I groan, but it’s really just a cover. My heart’s beating a million miles an hour. There’s no time to think about the walk or any of the other shit he said. Gary’s going to search my bag. My mind flashes to the pills I have tucked in a little slit in the back. I think it’s hidden, but there’s a chance he’ll find it. “I’m in a town the size of a shoebox. I have no car and definitely no friends. It’s not like there’s anywhere I’m going to go…well, except on your walks, I guess.” I’m hoping this diverts him so he doesn’t realize I’m freaking the hell out.