From Infinite to Kamikaze: A Novel

APRIL 1999 - EM (Part 2)

My head felt like it was being squeezed from all directions. My throat was sore and from just trying to clear it I could tell I was on the verge of losing it. My stomach churned like it was hungry but I knew the second I tried to put anything in it, I'd probably throw up. And my left hand. My left hand throbbed like a motherfucker. I brought it in front of my face to get a better look. Even in the darkness of the room, I could see that it was wrapped. What the fuck?? I tried to remember last night. How the fuck did my hand end up getting wrapped up? Did I fight someone? Lex....

Something happened with Lex. Or was that a dream? I quickly turned to the side to determine whether or not she was in bed next to me. She wasn't. But she had said she was gonna come after she was done in the studio. But we had a fight... But she was still gonna come. Wasn't she? Fuck, I couldn't remember shit. I scrambled around looking for my phone, wincing in pain as I tried to get my left hand to do shit it normally could do. My phone wasn't in the bed, or on the floor, the nightstand, or in my sweatpants pocket. I used the hotel phone to call the front desk and had them transfer me to Paul's room.

"Yeah," he answered groggily.

"Paul....what the fuck happened last night?" I said breathlessly.

He let out a big sigh and I heard shuffling on the phone like he was getting up and moving around. "I'll be right there." Before I could say anything else, he hung up. 

What the fuck was going on?? I hung up and quickly dialed Lex's number. No answer. It didn't even ring. Went straight to voicemail. Where was she staying? Pretty sure she had said the Comfort Inn in Burbank. But she checked out yesterday morning to stay with me for 3 nights; so where was she?

I stumbled into the bathroom to take a piss. As I went to wash my one good hand, I saw the blood stains on my pants in the mirror. What the fuck?? I wracked my brain but couldn't remember anything after the show. A knock at the door interrupted my lack of thoughts.

"Paul, what the fuck is going on?" I demanded as I threw open the door and Paul sauntered in. Proof and Royce followed at a drowsy pace, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Paul opened the blackout curtains, letting in an enormous amount of light. It looked like it was the middle of the goddamn day. I looked at the clock, surprised that I hadn't looked at it before. 1:38pm. Shit.

"Em, you should sit down," Paul said, clearing his throat and taking a sip of the water he had brought with him. He reached in my mini-fridge and handed me an unopened one. I took it suspiciously.

"Why? What the fuck is this? Where's Lex at?" I questioned, searching everyone's face for clues. The three of them proceeded to tell me the details of the previous evening. The more they talked, the more I felt the urge to yack. I studied my wrapped-up hand in disbelief and lowered my head to my hands, trying to force my brain to remember.

"Why in the fuck didn't you stop me or them girls when you saw that shit Royce?" I yelled.

"I tried to get the girls to come kick it with me and my girl, but shit homie I was gettin' one off too! They really was all over each other til you seemed like you was about to be knocked out. Then they started messin' wit you, but I thought you was still kinda wit it cuz you was mumbling to 'em and shit. I couldn't hear what you was sayin' though; the music was up, everyone was talkin'. And you was wavin' yo' hand around; next thing I know the one girl pulls yo' shit out and Lex walks through the door, like literally one second after the other. What the fuck was I supposed to do?" Royce explained.

I got up off the edge of the bed and walked over to the balcony door, rubbing my hand over my hair. I searched the parking lot below for any trace of her or her car before remembering she was driving a rental. "Where'd she go?" I asked, my voice hoarse and cracking.