Page 53 of Unholy Confessions
"Good. That's step one. Step two is asking for help. Real help, not just promises that you'll quit on your own."
"I don't know how to ask for help."
"You start with the people who love you. You tell them the truth about how bad it's gotten. You go to meetings, you find a sponsor, you check into rehab if you need to. You do whatever it takes."
I nod, feeling overwhelmed but also strangely relieved. "What if I can't do it? What if I'm not strong enough?"
"Then you try again. And again. Until it sticks." He stands up, preparing to leave. "But RJ, you need to understand something. The people in your life—Montgomery, your band, your family—they can't wait forever. At some point, they'll have to protect themselves, even if it means walking away from you."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because losing Montgomery might not be enough to motivate you to get clean. And if it's not, then you need to find what is. Because this path you're on? It only leads to one place, and it's not somewhere you want to go."
He heads toward the door, then turns back. "I'm going to check on you in a few days. I hope when I do, you'll have made some calls. I hope you'll have taken some steps. Because kid, you've got talent and potential, but more importantly, you've got people who care about you. Don't waste that."
After he leaves, I sit in the silence of my house, his words echoing in my head. The reality of my situation is starting to sink in, and it's terrifying. I'm not just risking my career or my relationship with Montgomery—I'm risking my life.
But even knowing that, even feeling the fear and shame and regret, there's still a part of me that wants to numb it all out. That wants to escape from the overwhelming magnitude of what I need to do to fix this.
My phone is in my hand before I consciously decide to pick it up. I scroll through my contacts until I find Evan's number. He's been reliable the couple of times I've needed him.
My thumb hovers over his name for a long moment. This is the crossroads Jared was talking about. I can choose to call him, get high, and continue down this path of destruction. Or I can choose something else.
But what if I'm not ready for something else? What if I'm not strong enough to face all of this sober?
The phone buzzes in my hand with a text from a number I haven't seen in a long time: "Hey, this is Skylar, just in case you're out of your mind. Montgomery loves you, but she can't watch you destroy yourself. Figure your shit out."
The message hits me like a physical blow. She loves me. Even after everything, even after last night, she loves me.
But she can't watch me destroy myself. And I don't want her to have to.
I look at Evan's name on my phone again, then delete the half-written message asking him to bring me cocaine. Instead, I scroll through my browser and search for "drug treatment centers with privacy for celebrities."
It's not much, but it's something. It's a choice toward life instead of toward death.
I'm not sure I'm ready to get clean, but maybe I'm ready to try to be ready. And maybe that's enough to start with.
My hands are shaking as I dial the first number on the list, but I do it anyway. Because Montgomery loves me, and I want to be worthy of that love. Because Jared is right—this path only leads to one place, and I don't want to go there.
The phone rings once, twice, three times before someone picks up.
"Serenity Treatment Center, this is Maria. How can I help you?"
But I don't say anything. Instead I hang up, and look around at the emptiness of what my life has become.
Chapter 26
Montgomery
This has been the longest night of my life. I'm so fucking tired, scared, emotionally drained, and not sure what the rest of my life looks like. "I was thinking about breaking it off with him," I croak, my throat wrecked from all the tears I've cried.
"I know," Skylar rubs my arm as she lays next to me in my bed.
"I feel guilty, like maybe I wasn't supportive enough."
"You were so supportive, Montgomery. You can only be as supportive as someone wants you to be, and we both have to admit that over the past few months, RJ has pushed you away. You can't keep making yourself smaller to accommodate what he's got going on."
In my heart, I know she's right, but I just don't know how to feel, or what to do. I swallow roughly, and I'm about to speak when there's a loud knock at my door. Equal parts scared and hopeful that it's RJ, I hop up and run, her hot on my heels. I don't even check to see who it is, I just throw the door open.
