White dust (Mature)

Part 10 - Rehab

As she walked down the long cold hallway, Stevie was entering the all familiar room of a rehab. The Betty Ford clinic had set up a beautiful little room so she could attempt to break yet another coke addiction. The smell of the room bothered her and she wanted to light some incense but had none, that would be on her list of things that she wanted from home. Sulamith would have to be snuck in because she wasn't allowed her pet but Stevie knew that she would get around that somehow. NO way was she going to be separated from her little man.

She was lonely, heartbroken, and praying as she literally got down on her knees and started cying; asking God to bring her through yet another downfall to add to her list of pain.

Karen watched her boss as she kneeled up against the doorway, wanting to be able to take her pain away but it wasn't possible, it would take some time and lots of professional care to help this woman.

Once Stevie calmed herself down she sat up on the bed and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue sitting on the desk next to her, she started to unpack some of her personal things, and placed her journal where it was easily accesible.

"Making a nest?" Karen asked, jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Stevie half smiled at her assistant, "Just trying to organize things to make it feel a little more homey so I guess, nest, is a good word."

"Hey," Karen took Stevie's hands, "You're going to be fine, okay? You're going to beat this. You've done it before and there's millions of people rooting for you."

"Millions?" Stevie asked, shocked, "What do you know that I don't?"

Gulping, Karen knew that she couldn't keep it from Stevie, it was all over the news. The Paparazzi had got a whiff and it spread like wild fire.

"I asked you a question, what do you know that I don't?"

"It hit the media. You're all over it."

Stevie's eyes closed and she shook her head, why couldn't they just leave her alone? "I guess I should have known this would happen."

"There's more..."

"More? What else?"

"There's video of you and Lindsey at the hotel..."

"Video? What the fvck are you talking about?! We took no videos!"

"Stevie, you and Lindsey were practically having sex outside in London! Did you really think that fans wouldn't have noticed?"

"Wonderful. Just wonderful," Stevie slammed her hands down on her knees as she sat down again, "Not only am I a drug abuser but I'm a homewrecker, too. This will just go over real well."

"There's nothing that can be done, Stevie. It happened and now we just have to let things work out on their own but you NEED to get yourself better before you can face whatever else may be out those doors," Karen pointed.

Nodding, Stevie agreed with Karen. If she got through rehab all those years ago then she could do it again. She would remain strong, dedicated to getting better and hopefully rejoin her band members once again overseas.

Over at Lindsey's house, things were a bit different. As Lindsey had arrived at the airport there were paprazzi and cameras everywhere. Asking him if he was back together again with Stevie, if he was getting divorced, if he WAS divorced, if his marriage was even REAL, and the status on Stevie's Betty Ford visit.

Kristen was completely enraged, disappointed, angry, depressed, and whatever word that you could imagine that involved the situation. Lindsey was terrified to even go back home and he had to dodge his way through the crowd to get away from the people that were pulling and yanking at him. Wasn't there a new law in California where the paparazzi was only allowed so many feet? He put on his sunglasses and raced out of LAX, his feet hitting the concrete hard until he got to a more desolate area. From there he called himself a car and headed home where he was met by his wife literally beating him over the head where he had to pin her hands down so he could get her to listen to him. She cried in his arms as he explained what had happened at Christine's, not leaving one thing out; told her that he had slept with Stevie and that he was sorry. That obviously didn't work for his wife as she ran up the stairs to lock herself in the bedroom, leaving Lindsey downstairs to figure out what he had to do to fix this. Did he want to fix this or did he want it to fall apart?