Gone.

Chapter 6: Do You Know Who You Are?

Trigger Warning: Suicide, Mental Health, Mature Language

"We just want to thank everyone for being here and supporting these musicians in their upcoming journey," Ken said into the microphone, numerous sets of eyes, both familiar and unfamiliar, locked on Ken as he spoke. I felt the heat rising up my limbs, this sensation somehow much different than playing in front of a venue full of people. I knew that these people were here to support us and guide us as we moved forward in the industry, but, at what cost?

I looked down at the shot of Tequila in my shaking right hand, the left holding onto a lime wedge, and reminded myself that everyone was watching.

Just drink it early, Lana. Just do it.

The heat rushed to my cheeks, my impulse threatening me as Ken continued to talk. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs to the brim until they hurt, shifting from one foot to the other. I felt Patrick's hand on my back, yet another sensation used to subtly ground me. I could feel the pressure of each individual finger, the warmth soaking into my skin as I got my breathing under control again.

What am I doing here?

"And with that," Ken said, looking over at the 4 of us quickly, his mouth still so close to the microphone, picking up his inhale, "let's cheers to Lana Beatrice, Patrick Jimmerson, Austin Stuart, and Leo Ludwig." Ken lifted the glass in his hand, everyone surrounding us following suit, before saying "cheers," and throwing back their heads, downing their own drinks. I smiled, clinking my shot glass with the other band members before pouring the Tequila back, spilling down my throat like lava. I felt the burn leading down to my stomach, gathering like a hot spring before I felt the spray of bitter lime in my mouth.

Arms started to envelope me, gathering the 4 of us into a group hug while the rest of the party guests clapped, encouraging us further. I heard Patrick talking about how "we made it," Austin and Leo joining in and I felt safe, happy even. I felt the alcohol burning off in my stomach, vining it's way through my body while the clapping died down.

When the boys released me, Patrick held a hand up to the crowd, a gesture as if to say, "thank you," and put his arm over my shoulders. He leaned down toward my ear, whispering "it's not all for nothing anymore." His breath was hot on my neck, the smell of Tequila nipping at my nose as he spoke. The hairs on my neck rose, tingling as his words processed in my mind before he planted a kiss in the top of my head, walking off to talk to other partygoers.

**************************************
"Hello?" I asked over the thump of music in the tour bus, following one of the biggest shows we had played. Patrick and Austin were both shotgunning a beer, Leo recording them for Snapchat and yelling about how amazing playing in front of the crowd was. I smiled, watching them compete, beer dribbling down their chins before splattering against the hard floor. I heard a mumble, not catching the actual words, forcing me to leave the 3 behind to enter the back of the bus.

The music was softer, the thump still evident in my chest, vibrating my organs in time with the beat. My smile was still across my face, excitement and pride coursing through my veins. I plugged my opposite ear with my finger, pushing the phone closer to my right ear in an attempt to hear the caller better.

"Hello?" I asked again, louder.

"Lana..." Kurtis said, his deep voice instantly awakening my senses. I would know that voice anywhere.

"Kurtis?" I asked, pushing my finger into my ear even further, causing it to ache. "Hang on a second."

I walked past the bunks, the curtains grabbing a hold of my jeans and skidding across their tracks as I walked by. I reached the sound system, turning the dial to lower the music, the boys furrowing their brows at me in confusion. Their eyes were glazed over, getting further and further away from sobriety. I held my finger up to them, the phone up to my ear while the music gently played background noise.