The band was on tour, winding down a show in Phoenix, and after load-out, most of the crew and performers had peeled off for food or rest. Stevie, Christine, Sharon, Lori, and Karen had gone to dinner in the hotel's fine dining restaurant, a ritual by now. The atmosphere was cozy. Candles, red wine, and old stories were passed around like dessert.
Christine hadn't checked her phone all evening. It was the kind of dinner where time stretched, laughter echoing across the table.
She didn't know what was happening two blocks away.
At a local bar, the crew had dragged Christine's assistant Jenn out for her birthday. Jenn rarely celebrated, and even more rarely drank. But she made one exception every year—on her birthday, she indulged.
And tonight, she indulged *hard*.
Most of the crew had gone back to the hotel already. Ali and Becca remained, both mostly sober, waiting with Jenn to be sure she was okay before they left her. But Jenn insisted she was fine, waving them off, staggering into the lobby.
It was Lori who spotted her first.
"Is that Jenn?" she asked suddenly, peering across the hotel lobby. Her voice tightened.
Christine glanced where Lori was looking—and her stomach dropped.
Jenn was weaving slightly, one hand on her stomach, the other gripping the wall for balance.
"Jenn!" Lori called. "You okay?"
Jenn half-turned, flashing a lazy wave. "Totally fine. Peachy. 10/10, no notes."
Christine was already halfway across the lobby. "Oh, no. No, no, no."
"What's wrong?" Lori asked, catching up.
"I forgot today was her birthday," Christine muttered. "She *always* drinks on her birthday. It's her one damn tradition. Shit."
Lori fell into step beside her. "She doesn't drink otherwise, right?"
Christine shook her head. "Exactly. That means she's probably had too much—and it won't end well."
By the time they reached Jenn, she was leaning against the elevator door, trying to steady herself.
"Jenn, love," Christine said gently. "Let's get you upstairs, okay?"
Jenn blinked slowly. "Christiiine," she mumbled, eyes glassy. "You're here. You always show up when I puke."
Christine slid an arm around her. "Then let's keep the tradition going. Come on."
---
**Christine's Hotel Room – 11:45 PM**
Christine helped Jenn into the room and straight into the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid before Jenn dropped to her knees beside it.
"Just breathe," Christine said, crouching beside her. "Long, slow breaths."
Jenn groaned, swaying. "Everything's spinning... like... a carousel of regret."
"That's a lovely metaphor," Christine said, holding her hair back. "Now try not to get it in your bangs."
After a few dry heaves, Jenn sat back and collapsed sideways on the floor, eyes fluttering. "I think I'm done."
Christine disappeared briefly and returned with blankets and a pillow. She tossed the bathmat aside and made a padded bed on the bathroom floor.
"You're sleeping here tonight," she said. "No arguments."
Jenn gave a tiny thumbs up. "Best... birthday... ever."
