The Rhythm Of Our Lonely Hearts

Chapter Fifteen: All the Sinners Are Sent to Rest

Chapter Fifteen: All the Sinners Are Sent to Rest

Andy pushed open the door to the hotel room, his muscles aching from the exertion as he let it slam behind him. Throwing his and Matt's duffle bags onto the dresser inside. The room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. A single king-sized bed sat in the middle of the room, freshly made, and calling his name. The time on the digital clock beside it read 8:05 AM.

The headache behind his eyes was now a throbbing migraine. He'd been up for almost twenty-four hours; his body kindly making him aware of his sleep-deprived state. They had made it though, pulling into the hospital parking lot at 7:45 AM. Just in time for Matt to run in and be by his dad's side as they rolled him into surgery. Luckily for Andy, the hotel was directly across the street, thankful to finally be out of the car after eight long hours.

Matt's mom had booked them the last room available, a single bed king suit. They would stay the night together before Andy would drive to Orlando to meet the tour again. Matt would stay a few more days until they looped back around in Tampa, giving him time to spend with his parents.

After their talk in the car, the rest of the ride had been silent. He was in for an awkward night for sure, Andy couldn't remember the last time they slept in the same bed peacefully. To make matters even worse, he was now in what only could be full-blown withdrawal. Feverish, fatigued, nauseous, and incredibly anxious. Crawling out of his skin at the thought of the next twenty-four hours.

Who knew when Matt would be back, probably not until his dad was out of surgery and awake. That would be hours from now. Andy sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at his feet. The urge to walk down to the hotel bar and drink until he didn't feel anything anymore was strong. It would stop his immediate suffering, but he wasn't sure how much more his body could take. Deep down he knew he was destroying himself, every night taking its toll. He was in the prime of his life, he should feel on top of the world. Full of energy, life, and passion. That was the exact opposite of his reality though, he felt dead inside. Sick, lifeless, and depressed.

He had to make a change; the effects of his lifestyle were starting to show. Noticing himself needing more concealer each day to cover up the bags under his eyes, new aches, and pains after shows. How much longer would it be before his hair started falling out? Or his teeth started to show the damage he was inflicting on them? Before his liver started to fail or his vocal cords started to suffer? How much damage had he already done; hidden inside his body? Then of course there was his happiness; non-existent unless he was blackout drunk, and then only an illusion.

Then there was the flip side of it; who would he be without his vices? It had been so long since he knew who he was; before the fame, drinking, and self-hatred seeped into his bones. What if that person was gone, what if there was nothing to come back to? What if after all the pain and suffering he would have to endure to find his way back home, happiness still eluded him?

Andy laid back on the bed, hugging the pillow in tight against his chest. The dull aching in his ribs, a constant reminder of how much he was neglecting his health. Tears falling down his cheeks silently, his hands shaking. All the pain he tried to cover up with booze and drugs coming down on him all at once.

Matt walked down the hotel hallway, scanning the doors for room 306. Beyond tired, but relieved that his dad's surgery had been successful. He was awake and back in his room, although he would still have a long road to recovery ahead of him, he was finally out of the woods. Seeing his dad hooked up to machines, his body bruised and broken had given Matt a much-needed dose of perspective. Life could be over in the blink of an eye, a simple ten-minute ride home from work, and it could all be over. It was both horrifying and humbling.