Söbriety • Mötley Crüe •

20. Papparazi

Warnings: Mentions of Previous Drug Use

Ryan's POV

"I'm Ryan McAllister. I'm here for my drug test." I hand the receptionist at the doctors office my drivers license and she hands me a wipe and a cup.

Peeing in a cup is oddly difficult. You have to place it in the perfect spot under you or the whole activity blows up. Move it too much to the left, and you pee on your hand. Move it too much to the right, and your pee cascades over the side, and you're stuck in the waiting room for an hour drinking water until your bladder refills. I smile when I hear the stream hit the bottom of the cup, and I wonder what the fuck has happened to my life.

I hand the receptionist my cup and she hands me back my license, staring at the contents of the cup in confusion.

"Is there something wrong?" I ask nervously as she picks up the cup and turns it in her hands, closely observing it.

"It's really cloudy. Are you feeling okay?"

"I think so?" I've felt fine.

"Mind if we do some extra tests?" When I nod she slaps a different sticker to the side of it and says she'll call me in a couple days after a doctor looks at the results.

-

"We should go out tonight, it'll be fun!" Sharise brushes her hair in the mirror, and I fold my legs under me on the bed. It took a couple days for me to be able to form a coherent sentence to her, but once I did we became fast friends.

"All of us?"

"Yeah, it'll be like a triple date. Tommy can be Mick's date." I laugh at the thought.

"Okay. That sounds fun to me." I smile at her in the mirror and she squeals.

I never thought I would have friends, yet here I am with several, and a girl friend at that. A tinge of guilt spreads through my stomach when I remember all of the things -and people- Vince has done behind her back. A good girl friend would tell her, wouldn't they? Or does a good friend not willingly hurt their friends feelings?

I shake the thoughts off, remembering that one of the conditions of my being here is that I'm bound by bro code to not rat on Vince. She probably knows anyway. Or at least I'll tell myself that so I don't feel so guilty.

"Let me do your hair!" Sharise comes at me with a brush and a can of hairspray and I flinch. "Oh, come on. It'll be fun!" I nod my head reluctantly and follow her to the bathroom.

"How are you feeling, being out of rehab and all?" I wince as she pulls my hair through the brush.

"So far, I feel pretty great. It's nice here. Safe."

"Safe?" She looks at me in confusion and I sigh, debating on telling her the reason I used that peculiar word.

That's what friends are for, right?

"I'm getting a divorce, and it's just better for me to be here than to be in LA right now." She nods in understanding, Her face let's me know she's chomping at the bit to know more, but doesn't want to pry.

"My wife is insane." Her eyes widen, surprised at my admission. "We've been married for years. She was my first love, but she's poison." Her face falls sympathetically.

"Girl, I know all about crazy exes. They always wanna come back and hurt you one more time just to make sure they still have the ability to."

"She's tied up in the cartel. Hence, why it's better for me to be here than there."

"The cartel?" Her voice takes on a higher pitch and she brushes my hair faster, wanting more. "So she's like..dangerous?"

"Um, sort of. She doesn't know where I am, though." She lets out a breath of relief.