Addictions / Freddie Mercury

One: Fraud Beginnings

January 1st, 1977
New York City, New York, U.S.

My head was thumping and my eyes were fuzzy. I could barely see anything, and the only support I had was the table in front of me. I don't remember the last time I partied so hard, only because last time I was this fucked up I promised myself not to do it again. Until Matt decided to throw a giant New Years party and I went crazy. The drugs and alcohol were definitely soaring through my veins, making my heart still beat fast.

I didn't know where I was. I don't even remember who was with me, or even if I was taken someplace different. Hell, I was so fucked up this morning that I couldn't even see if I was still in the same place. I was just gripping a table, standing on my weak legs as I tried to collect any thoughts that ran through my mind.

A grip on my arm didn't even phase me. I stayed staring at the table, accepting that fact that anyone could take me anywhere. I wanted to go home, where I was away from any alcohol or drug.

"We're going home."

I nodded at the sound of Sully's calm, but disapproving tone. I knew this time I would be in trouble, and that my career now was hanging by a thread. I was holding the scissors right between the wire, until one of these days I get so bad I snap it.

•••••

An ice pack laid on top of my head as I let out a groan. I was so hungover that I didn't even enjoy the sound of someone breathing. My body was shaking under a blanket as I just kept my eyes closed. A slight ringing in my ears, I was fucked.

"...I know- let me just- ... alright, yes, I know. I promise sir, it won't happen again- ... This time it won't-"

I pulled the blanket over my head, putting my fingers inside my ears to stop the ringing. My head still throbbing, I turned over, making the ice pack fall to the ground. It wasn't helping anyways, so I left it there.

The couch shifted and a hand was placed on my hand. "You know, Mia, this is not good for your image."

"Don't you think I already know?" I snapped. I whipped the blanket off of my face, making eye contact with Sully. "I try so many times in rehab, and guess what? Each time I'm doing good for three months, Matt invites me to a party and I go. And you know what happens? This. So leave me alone."

I pulled the blanket back over my head. "Nothing is going to change how I act. I'm a piece of shit, my career is over. Now go, I don't need your repeated harassment."

Sully sighed. "Mia, rehab won't even accept you at this point! If you do this again, you could-"

"Die, I know. Thanks for the fucking heads up Sully. Oh, and guess what? I know that I can get taken away too." I rolled my eyes. "At this point I should be so they could murder me."

"Oh, don't say that." Sully said quietly.

I pulled the blanket off of my face again. I looked at Sully, who, even though had no serious emotion on the outside, was feeling sympathetic in his eyes. I sighed through my nose, reaching my hand out for him to grab it.

If you didn't realize by this fucking moment, yes, Sully is my manager. He keeps track of every fucking thing that I do, and scolds me every time I do something wrong. It's a whole cycle, and sometimes I wish he would just leave me alone. But, he's doing his job, because the last ten assistants that he's hired bailed. They don't want to be around me, I'm too much to handle.

Scratch that, I'm a complete fucking failure. My whole career is down the drain because I decided that it would be a great idea to become a single, female rock star. Puts a pretty image on your face, leaves you with headlines and tabloids that make you look like a fucking psychopath. The money's good, the fans are good, you get to play music.