Finding My Way Back to You

In The Wrong

Idina POV

I walked down to my dressing room. Why did that have to happen today? I was so stressed about the show, about James and Walker keeping me up every night. All of the interviews, performances and little fake conversations I'd have to do. It was straining me physically and emotionally. The pressure to satisfy everyone, it was too much. Now, on top of all that, James gives his little speech about how he can't be with me? I was done.

I closed the door behind me, locking it. I went into the bathroom and opened the cupboard. I had all of the essentials; extra toilet paper, mouthwash, towels. I pushed all of those aside, and reached farther back. Pulling my hand back out, I read the label on the bottle: Vodka. I plopped myself down on the floor and started taking swigs of the liquid.

It had been an hour and my vision had started to get blurry. I held the bottle up and there was only about one sip left.

James POV

It was getting close to the start of the show. I hadn't seen Idina the rest of the morning. I took that as she didn't want to talk to me. So, I didn't check on her.

It was about 30 minutes before the show and there was still no sign of Idina. I asked around to see if she was getting ready. No one said anything. I went back in my dressing room and waited until the call for places.

I heard a knock on the door and I went to open it. Standing there was Joby.

"Have you seen Idina?"

She looked frantic and was impatiently waiting for my answer.

"No, I haven't. Sorry."

She rejected what I said and pulled me up out of my chair.

"Help me find her. The show is about to start and she's not around!"

We started running down the hallway, while I asked her questions.

"Did you check her dressing room?" I asked.

"Yeah and it won't open!"

I ran up the stairs and knocked on the dressing room door. I juggled the knob and it wouldn't budge.

"Idina?"

No answer.

I knocked louder. Still no answer. I put all of my weight into the door to try and open it, and nothing happened.

I turned to Joby and she nodded at me.

I took a few steps back and slammed into the door. I didn't think that would actually work. The door was half way down, and I stumbled my way into the room. I scanned it, looking for her. I saw the bathroom door open and walked over. She laid there with a bottle in her hand and was very pale. I dropped to my knees and held her head up.

"Dee?" I check for her pulse and I could just barely feel it.

"Fuck. Joby call 911! She's unconscious."

She was resting on my lap and I held her hand, trying to warm it up. I heard the ambulance outside and picked her up bridle style. As I carried her, her head brushed against my neck and sent shivers down my spine. She was so cold.

The paramedic took her from me and placed her on the gurney. Looking at her now, on that stretcher, I had memories coming back from when she was in the hospital. It was happening all over again. Then something crossed my mind. Did she do this because of me? After what I said, she went to her dressing room. I hadn't seen her again. It was all my fault. Just like the car crash... it was because of me.