“I have to get a diet coke. We got them at my house.”“Your house?”I had my jeans on and headed for the door where my shoes awaited. He appeare... and cracked open a can of Miller Lite. It hissed and frothed. He sipped at it as he stared at me. I reached the door and slipped into my flats.“Wait, are you really leaving to get a diet coke?”“Well, yeah,” I said, shoes on. I opened the door. He hurried across the living room and grabbed my arm as I stepped outside. “You can't leave. Things were just. It was those fucking pills. Getting up with a wince, he stalked to one of the bathrooms outside their recording room. He unscrewed the top to the bottle of pills and poured them into the toilet. ‘Christ! Are you insane? What are you doing?’ Michael exclaimed ripping the bottle of pills from his hand, but it was already too late. The white pills floated innocently inside the porcelain bowl. ‘Clearing my head.’ ‘You’ve been out of the hospital a little over a month. You need those still,’ Michael. More

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