She’s unsteady, swaying in place, and I immediately notice how dirty she is. And not the kind of dirty that I like. She’s filthy. Her clothes are torn in strange places, and there is a coating of dirt and grime on her arms, causing her intricate tattoos to seem veiled and blurred. Her fingernails are misshapen and dirt is caked underneath them. I remain fixated on her atrocious appearance and immediately get itchy just looking at her.
Mick’s hulking frame fills the small doorway, causing me to divert my eyes to him. “Venue security has already been called,” he says calmly as he pushes past Heath and lifts the drunken blonde off of her wobbly feet. How did she get past them both? She can barely stand, but her arms are windmilling through the air, trying to make contact with anything. A flask and baggie filled with what seems to be drug paraphernalia flies from her open backpack.
“Calm down,” Mick says as he grabs both of her wrists with his left hand, making it look easy.
“Dude.” I chuckle, mocking Heath’s attempts to stop her. “Way to get this under control.”
Heath ignores my jab and turns to leave the room. “You got this now?” he asks Mick, who lifts his chin to acknowledge that he does indeed ‘got this.’ He continues to maintain his control over the crazy drunk chick.
“Garrett, you need to come with me,” Drunk Girl slurs. Blondie whimpers from beneath the sheets.
“Go with you? Where?” I ask, almost mocking her. I glance toward the heap of blonde hair poking out from the covers. I’m not going anywhere. I have unfinished business here.
“I’m Sadie…” A piece of paper falls from one of her clasped hands, and I watch it fall to the floor. Suddenly, her eyes roll back into her head and her body starts convulsing. She’s limp in Mick’s arms.
“Fuck,” Mick exhales and then calls out, “Heath, get me my phone. Now.” He grabs her chin, holding her head up as drool falls from her mouth. She gags as foam begins to drip from her lips, and I wonder what the hell this girl is on.
Sadie?
“What the hell?” I ask, sitting up in bed as Blondie rolls over, tucking the covers around her body. She gasps and turns to hide her face against my chest. Drama.
Heath emerges from the doorway and hands Mick a cell phone. He stares helplessly at the convulsing heap of a girl as Mick hits his speed dial. “It’s Mick. I need medical on Epic Three. Overdose.” He disconnects the call and slides his phone into his back pocket without dropping the girl. Sadie?
“What did she say her name was?” I ask Mick, even though I know I heard her correctly.
Ignoring me, he rolls his eyes as he continues to support her head. She gags and coughs up foam, like a rabid dog. “Can you get her out of here?” As the words leave my mouth, I realize I sound like a douche, but she’s frothing all over the place.
Heath looks at me with his typical disgust and bends down to help support her.
Mick’s phone rings from his back pocket, and somehow he swipes it quickly without dropping the girl on the floor. “Yeah,” he says abruptly. “No, not Two, we’re on Three.” He hangs up abruptly. This is the first time we’ve had three buses on tour. Heath and I share Epic Three, Tristan and Dax share Epic One, and Epic Two is for our crew. We don’t have a name for the rig that carries all of our gear.
Within minutes, the cabin is swarming with paramedics and security officers, and I hear sirens in the distance, quickly approaching. They work on the girl, and as quickly as they enter the bus, they’re gone with their new patient. Heath, Mick and I stare in awkward silence as sobs come from underneath the blanket next to me. Mick rolls his eyes once again and grabs her skimpy clothes from the floor. He extracts her from the bed, expertly keeping her naked body shielded while leaving me partially covered with the remaining blanket. Her matted hair falls to the side, and her face is swollen and streaked with tears and black makeup. “Is she dead?” she asks.
“No, honey, she’s not dead,” Mick says as he ushers her into the hallway. “You can get dressed in the bathroom,” he instructs.