Just like Christmas, the new year didn't exactly shine any hope for anyone.
Time passed and we had sworn to keep the miscarriage between us all. Doc, however, learned about it (I had him listed as an emergency contact since he is technically my boss, too), but he swore to keep it quiet, especially from Vince.
I unfortunately suffer pains from time to time after the miscarriage, so was prescribed some medication for it. Its nothing serious and is thankfully been going away, but it still has its moments.
Nikki eventually signed the papers and we were officially divorced since last month. He also has no idea about the miscarriage.
Vince was released from jail 3 months ago, but stayed at home since Sharise finally gave birth to a baby girl, Skylar.
According to Sharise, she's the only thing keeping Vince sane after everything that's happened.
Part of me is happy, that he got his chance... Another part loathes and envies him...
I'm glad he has a chance... But why couldn't I have one, too?
Is it too much to ask? Give both me and also Razzle a second chance?
Then again, everything in this world is so messed up, especially for me. My kid probably wouldn't have ever lasted even a day..
Right now we were at the studio to record, but the energy around could only be described as depressing and a mess.
Doc, the sound tech and I sat in the controls room while I got another fix.
I snorted up the line I prepped on the mirror and sighed as I laid back on the seat.
"Is that really necessary?" Doc asked me.
"Just needed one more line to take the edge off," I sighed as I rubbed my nose.
"You said that four lines ago," He said.
"Doc, no offense, but shouldn't you be a little more worried about them?" I asked, motioning into the sound booth, where the guys were, Tommy pacing back and forth as he smoked.
He was about to say something when suddenly the door opened and Zutaut walked in.
"Hey," he asked as he approached us. "What's taking so long? Vince got out of jail like, three months ago. They should be on tour by now."
I looked at him like he grew a second hear.
"Seriously, Zutaut?" I snapped.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Doc scoffed. "Look at 'em."
We all then turned to see Mick laid back on the couch, a half-empty bottle of vodka in his hands, Nikki in the arm chair next to him staring blankly at the table, both of them looking exhausted.
Tommy was kicking and pounding on his drums with his hands, feet, and even his head.
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