"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." she sobbed.
"No, no. No time for sorry. I'm coming. I'm coming as soon as I can. I'll see you," AJ said.
"No AJ, you have to stay and record the album. Think of the fans! The fans."
"Fuck the fans, I'm getting sick of this deal anyway," AJ lied, a lump of guilt instantly forming in his throat.
"You don't mean that."
"I know..." AJ whispered. "God this is killing me. How can they do this to me?" he yelled, slamming his fist on the table.
"It's only because they care about you."
"It is not Bree! It's cuz they don't want the truth to get out, they don't want the fans to drop off cuz I'm a supposed druggie."
"AJ, they're not against you."
"Yes. Yes they are. All of them. They're evil. Especially Howie. Howie's the one who did this to me. He told them. It was him..."
"AJ, knock it off before I hang up! Quit talking like that!"
"Well he did. He snitched on me."
"You needed help AJ, you still need help."
"No I don't."
"Yes you do! Quit being stubborn!"
"You know what?"
"What?"
"I don't know, that's what. I don't know about anything anymore. I want a girlfriend, that's what I want."
"AJ, I...I have to go," Brianna stuttered, tears choking her throat.
"Fine. You go ahead and leave me too."
"AJ, knock it off. Quit saying stuff like that and making me feel guilty. I have to go. See you later."
AJ sighed as the tone beeped in his ear, telling him that Brianna had hung up. He grabbed his tablet and a pen and began scribbling words.
Dear Brianna,
I'm sorry that I make you feel the way I do. I don't mean it. I just need drugs right now. The second time I tried coke, I was hooked. That was four months ago. I guess my little joy-ride would have to end sometime.
I got started when a friend in Orlando had some coke, shrooms, and acid. I took a snort of coke, sputtered, and said no. Minutes later I had snorted a whole line; it was so addicting. Then I had a hit of acid. I almost got hit by a car, thanks to acid. I never took it again.
I know that I could die from doing cocaine. I know. I just can't do anything without it. It's my...my ground. My stability. My blood literally itches for it, I find myself scratching my arms or rubbing my nose. They're hooking on the pinprick of needles or the near-edge sneezing feeling.
I don't mean to make you feel lowsy. You really are a gem, Bree. I love you a lot.
-AJ
Chapter 23
