13. Taking Control in Salt Lake City

thirteen

Taking Control in Salt Lake City

I led Ziggy off to the dressing room, and by the time I got him laid down on the couch with a cushion under his head, he was out cold.

Miami and Jinx followed me into the room. Miami pulled one of Ziggy’s eyelids up. “He’s down for the count. What the hell? Should we call someone?”

Jinx held his phone up. “I did. There is a first responder on duty at these shows, just in case of emergencies or whatever. He’s coming back now.”

“This isn’t his normal get a little stoned before a show routine. What the fuck?” Miami looked at me.

“He’s been having problems with his back. He wanted something a little stronger, but I didn’t see what he took.” I grabbed his duffle and started going through it. After pulling out jeans and T-shirts, I got a glimpse of everything in there. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Miami looked over my shoulder. “Where the fuck did he even get this stuff?”

“He collected it from people in Boston. Mostly. I think.” I dropped the bag.

Jinx shook his head like he couldn’t believe it. It didn’t matter though, because I was done with this. “I’m going to get a doctor to meet us in Reno.”

“Doctor?” Miami asked. “For the drugs?”

“No. For the back. This is…” I waved my hand over the bag of drugs. “Self-medicating. We need to get him on a real program with real medication, maybe a back brace, but overseen by a doctor. This shit is going down the toilet.” I took the duffle to the bathroom and flushed it all one by one.

When I came back into the room, the responder was checking him out, shining light in his eyes, checking his blood pressure. “He’s out cold, for sure. But I don’t think it’s serious. His vitals are fine. Do we have any idea what he took?”

“No, but there was also half a bottle of Crown Royal, so he may have drunk that to take whatever it was. But none of it was in bottles with prescription labels or anything. Though it looked like prescription pills. I can’t be sure. But he smoked a joint with it. I know that.”

“Well, sedatives, like Ambien, Lunesta, or anti-anxiety medications, can have terrible interactions with marijuana. And if he was taking this for pain relief. He could have taken something like that.”

“He had a little bit of everything. I think he would have taken something more specifically for pain.”

“Hmm…With that, they can amplify each other. The effects increase.” I had already been guessing that. “I’d say to keep an eye on him. Check his pulse. If anything changes, call an ambulance. But I’m betting he’s going to sleep this off. If it was going to get worse, it probably already would have, based on how long ago he took everything. Unless he took something else since. Like since he left the stage.”

“No, nothing. I had him.”

“That’s it then. Call me if you need anything else.”

As he left, Marci barged in and took in the room. “What the hell?”

“Ziggy has more issues than we thought.” Miami stuffed his clothes back in the duffle and kicked it under the couch. “He’s not playing tonight. Simon will have to fill in. I’ll say he’s sick and had a reaction to his medication. I’ll get the crowd’s sympathy, and we’ll move on. No big.”

“I’ll stay with him, obviously.” I tossed a couple of cushions on the floor by his head and sat next to him. I ran my fingers through his silky hair. It was long and unruly most of the time, but he took care of it with expensive shampoo and conditioner.

“He’ll be all right.” Miami cupped my shoulder. “But I think there’s more going on here than the back pain. He has our support, you know. We love him like a brother. Let’s work on getting him to stop shutting us out.”

“Agreed.” Jinx leaned in and hugged me. “We are here for you. Don’t do this alone.”

“Thank you. I barely got him to talk to me about his back pain. He keeps his emotions close, not letting anyone in. You are all closer to him than anyone…”

“Miami is closer to him than the rest of us. Always been that way, but even so, you’re not wrong. He wants to be the big bad rockstar. Strong. And anything that shows vulnerability is shoved down and hidden.”

Miami crossed his arms. “It’s probably his upbringing. He never got along with his parents.”

I scowled. Did they not know? “They kicked him out when he was a teen because he was gay. And forced his sister into an arranged marriage. I’d say it went beyond not getting along.”

Miami’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “What the fuck?”

“Oh my God. He never said anything.” Jinx crossed his arms over his chest. “He’s had a harder life than I even imagined. We need to help him.”

“My thoughts exactly. He needs a counselor too.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “I’m going to try and arrange the back doctor first, though.”

Marci sat in the chair opposite the couch where Ziggy was blissfully snoozing. She huffed. “I imagine an intervention is going to be difficult. I know I’m newer to this family, but even I know he’s going to fight you.”

“You’re not wrong.” Miami paced across the room behind the couch. “I say, get the back doctor in place for Reno and see if he can help us get this under control, but we wait until after Rocktoberfest to address the rest of it. He won’t feel as threatened. And we have a break, so time to deal with it. And see where we are.”

“You may want to think about canceling the last leg of the tour. I mean, Simon is great, but the fans are paying to see Ziggy.” Marci flipped her hand out toward the man on the couch. “He doesn’t act like it, I know, but he’s a huge part of the fan experience. Like unexpectedly the fan favorite. Not the one that always wins the race, but the one the crowd loves to death, no matter what.”

That described his place in the band for sure. He was the unspoken backbone. Jinx had been the unofficial leader, and this morphed into him and Miami together. Although Miami was the front man, and thought he was the leader, the guys always deferred to Jinx. And Wolf was the humble bassist, happy to go along and quietly, as unassuming as possible, while secretly being the musical genius behind their songs. Not that he wrote them all, but he added his expertise to each one like seasoning. That was Midnight Hunt. That was the combination and connections that made them work.

But Ziggy was broken. That meant the band was broken.

We would all have to work together to fix it. And I sincerely wanted to fix it—fix my Ziggy. “Let’s take it one step at a time. You all may be right. He needs more help, and it will be a fight. No matter what we do, he won’t like it. He won’t want to not play the rest of the tour. He’s goddamned nearly obsessed with pleasing the fans.” I leaned over and kissed the side of his head. “Which is why they love him so much.”

Jinx squatted next to me. “Your relationship with him has changed. This isn’t a fling. You’re not trying to get in his pants. This is serious, huh?”

I nodded.

“You love him.”

Again, a nod. I didn’t think I could speak without sobbing.

Jinx patted my back. “I think he loves you too. But that’s also part of the problem. You need to address that. I know you’ve been working on it, but maybe he doesn’t know how to do that love relationship thing. I mean, this is me thinking just now, but if he was kicked out young by hateful parents, maybe he never had the examples of what love is supposed to look like.”

I hugged him. I hurt for my Ziggy. I was terrified to lose him. We had to figure this shit out. “There’s a lot to unpack. And you’re right. One step at a time. Doc in Reno, and we’ll go from there. Deal?”

“Yes…”

The guys left us. They still had a show to do. And it was Simon’s turn to step up. I would have liked to see that. Simon was a good kid and a talented drummer. Eventually, he’d leave us and join his own band. Maybe.

Right now, I could only worry about Ziggy. I rubbed his hair and spoke softly to him, checking his pulse every so often, but it was strong. We would get it all worked out in time.