Just Off the Key of Reason

Chapter Sixteen - I'd Kill to Make Them Gold

Saturday, 23rd of June, 2007 - Las Vegas, Nevada

Joe woke up in his hotel room to a pounding headache and a hazy – at best – memory of the events from the night prior. His mouth tasted like he had eaten a dozen rotten cheeseburgers right before he had gone to bed and was about as dry as the Sahara. Nobody was in bed next to him, but from the state of his room he was pretty certain someone else must've been in his room with him last night. He glanced around, seeing clothes that he was fairly certain were not his. Thankfully, he didn't hear a shower running or any other signs of life, so he assumed whoever it was must have already left him to deal with his hangover alone. What the fuck happened? Before he could get his thoughts together, his head spun and his stomach lurched. He quickly rolled over, hauled himself to the bathroom, got rid of the contents of his stomach and then sat on the floor of a cold shower, drinking about half of the water flow before it could even hit the drain. Once he was pretty sure he was close to drowning from excessive water intake, he rested his head back against the tiles, trying to remember what had happened.

He remembered going to the bar down the road with Pete and getting a beer. Shortly after that he recalled a couple of fans that had been at the show recognising them and buying them shots. They partied with those guys for a bit before Pete moved onto cocktails and Joe moved onto some form of whiskey that the bartender recommended. And that's about where he stopped remembering things. He had a vague impression that the bar had closed and they'd gone to a club after that. Looking down at his hand, he saw a smudged stamp on his wrist that confirmed that suspicion. He was sure that he had taken a taxi back to the hotel, but he couldn't remember for the life of him if Pete had come with him or not. When he finally mustered up the strength to stand up and turn off the stream of water, he took a quick look at his phone. Five missed calls and sixteen texts, more than half of which were from Pete texting him about drinks and girls throughout the night, progressively getting less legible as he got more intoxicated. He called Patrick back, who told him that sound check was in an hour and to get down to the venue. As he pulled his clothes back on, a sense of dread settled in him at the thought that maybe Pete did come back to the hotel with him. Specifically, to his hotel room. He'd done stranger – and less good looking – things in the past while drunk. He quickly checked the clothes on his hotel room floor and verified that they weren't Pete's with a relieved sigh.

He got down to the venue with two minutes to spare before sound check officially started. The sunglasses he had slipped on weren't really working for blocking out the sharp glare of the lights that they were testing, but thankfully the painkillers he had taken felt like they were starting to kick in. As he approached the stage, he only saw three of the four people that should've been there. Things felt sort of tense as he eyed the trio, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to start piecing together why.

"Where's your kleptomaniac man-child?" He asked, nudging her in the side in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"I thought he was going to be coming with you?" She asked in surprise, taking a quick check behind Joe to make sure that he wasn't there. He shook his head, instantly regretting doing so when it brought on another dizzy spell and nearly made his stomach flip. "Has anyone seen Pete?" She asked, glancing around the stage. Everyone stayed silent, staring at Joe.

"Not since last night." Joe mumbled, pressing his sunglasses further into the bridge of his nose in the hopes that maybe the pressure would force his head to stop spinning.

"Did he get back to the hotel?" She frowned. He simply shrugged in response. "I'm gonna go look for him." She jumped down off of the box that she was sitting on. Patrick nodded in response, watching as she briskly walked off to find their missing bassist.