**TRIGGER WARNING** Discussion and treatment of self-harm and bulimia is addressed in this chapter. Reader discretion is advise.

Am I being dramatic?

This composure is not enough

Parasites writhe behind your eyes

Dig them out, try to be dainty

It'll gnaw on your innards

Genocide of the mind

We all fall down without the ashes 

--From the song Losers Weepers

Lyrics By: Orion Bauwens

If Tristan actually told anyone, you could've fooled me. Life carried on as usual. The tour continued. I had my okay days peppered with some really horrible days. The difficult part was being cognizant of the fact that my horrible days were starting to outweigh the okay one's.

That was another thing. I no longer had good days. They were all just "okay". I started to feel like I was just going through the motions. I felt trapped in my body, like I was looking out as the world whirled past me. There wasn't anything I could do about it so I just trudged on.

Tristan tried to keep in contact with me but I avoided him at all costs. Any time I saw him, I fled. Any time he entered a room, I left it. It wasn't fair to him, especially after I kissed him, but I couldn't face him.

Welcome to the story of my life. I just fuck everything up. Whenever there's a good opportunity--bam!--I sabotage it. Sometimes I worry I don't want to be happy, that I've known misery for so long that I'm afraid of anything else. I'm pathetic. I don't know why anyone puts up with my shit.

I lied. It's actually perfectly fair to Tristan. I'm saving him from the heartache and inevitable disappointment that will come from being with me.

After a couple weeks I really do think I've gotten off scot free. That is, until Gloria calls me into a meeting at the current hotel we're staying at. I admittedly find it a little funny that she wants to hammer out upcoming tour dates with me in a conference room. We usually do stuff like that in an informal setting. Even so, I don't think much of it.

That is, until I get to the conference room. It's rather large. The long cherry wood conference table has been pushed against the far wall, most of the chairs piled on top of it, leaving a huge empty area in the middle of the room.

Gloria, Jake, and Ben are all sitting there. They've made a circle of chairs, an empty one waiting for me. Jake is puffing away on a cigarette. His eyes are red rimmed and glassy, which instantaneously alarms me. Since I was fourteen I have never seen him cry. Not once.

"Oh fuck me."

I turn around to leave but the bodyguard that was standing at the door yanks it shut. I try to open it but it's locked. I jiggle the handle frantically and pound on the door with my open palm so hard it stings.

"Come on, open up!"

"Orion," Gloria says.

I turn around. "Really?! You fucking locked it from the outside?!"

"Orion. Please sit."

I go back to pounding on the door and shouting.

"Orion!" Gloria yells now, "sit your ass down!"

I start to panic, my breathing becoming heavy. "You can't do this."

"I already have."

"I'll call--" I start to say, but as soon as my hand hits my back pocket I realize I left my phone upstairs.

"Look," Gloria continues. "I bribed the hotel manager to clear this floor. There's nothing in this wing except the pool, the gym, and conference rooms anyway. Pete's at the door, like you saw."

"It's safe here," Ben offers quietly.

For a moment no one says anything. It's like an incoming storm, the atmosphere in the room thick, heavy, oppressive. I'm finding it hard to breathe, and I tug at my collar.

Jake looks at me. It breaks my heart into a billion shards.

"Please sit Ori."

I close my eyes a second and take a deep breath. Having nowhere else to go I walk over to the empty chair. I spin it around and straddle it, resting my forearms on the back and planting my chin down firmly on them.

"There. I'm sitting. What's up?"

"Don't be a smart ass," Jake snaps at me.

"Yeah, I get it," I snap right back, "this is some sort of dramatic intervention. I'm not being a smart ass, I just want to get on with it so I can get out of here already."

He narrows his eyes on me. "You're not going anywhere. If you think you can just skate by like you do with everything else in life--"

"You know what, fuck you--"

"Guys," Gloria rumbles loudly. "This is not how this is going to start."

I glare off to the side.

"We know about your arms," Ben blurts out, his knee bouncing up and down.

"Great. Fucking great."

"Have you done it recently?" Jake asks, snuffing out his cigarette in an ashtray he brought along.

"Why the fuck do you care?"

Suddenly Jake is on his feet. To everyone's alarm he grabs his chair, flinging it across the entire room. I sit up, reeling backwards.

"Jesus, Jacob--"

He's on me then, grabbing me and hoisting me to my feet. He bursts into tears as he screams at me so loud it makes my ears ring.

"I care because I love you, damn it! You're like a brother to me--you are my brother! And it's killing me to see you like this."

He lets go of me and sinks onto the ground. I'm too stunned to do anything.

"You've been slipping away from me, from us, and it's not fair!" He lifts his tear-stained face. "It's not fucking fair that we have to sit here and watch you slowly kill yourself."

"And it's not just the cutting," Gloria says.

I look at Gloria. She's keeping her eyes on me evenly, her arms crossed. "Of course we knew about the drinking. And while the cutting is a surprise, do you think we're stupid?"

"I don't cut," I snarl at her.

"Then what do you do?" she tests me.

I continue to stare her down. When I speak it's smugly. "I claw at myself."

"Jesus," Jake sobs quietly.

"We know you're bulimic too," Gloria continues.

"What? No I'm not."

"Like I said, do you think we're stupid?" she shouts at me now. "After every meal--every meal--you go to the bathroom and come back with a breath mint."

"So?" I snap. "I just want my breath to be fresh after eating!"

"You weigh what, one-twenty sopping wet?"

My jaw goes slack. "Excuse you--"

"Dude," Ben says quietly. "Your clothes hang off you."

"We can see your ribs," Jake tells me from the floor.

I'm starting to feel like a caged animal. The room is becoming more stifling by the minute. I tug at my collar again.

"Fuck you, no you can't."

Jake lifts his head. "Yes we can. When you jump around on stage and your shirt lifts up."

"No you can't!"

Jake is on his feet, trying to pull my shirt up. What happens next is all a confusing blur. I punch him. He punches me. Ben is shouting at us to stop. At one point Pete the bodyguard pokes his head in, but Gloria yells at him to shut the door.

Gloria and Ben try to pull Jake and myself apart but it's no use. I don't know how long he and I wrestle for before I start to cry. He sobs harder. I'm laying on the floor, Jake hugging me, my head buried into his stomach.

I can barely breathe, choking on the air. I'm hyperventilating.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Jake tells me. "We love you."

"Why? I'm such a fuck-up. I can't do anything right."

I'm gasping for air now. I can hardly speak, hardly breathe.

"What?" Jake asks.

"I'm sorry we're friends and I'm sorry we're in the band together. I'm sorry I'm dragging you down with me--"

Jake has stopped crying. He's looking at me very alarmed. "Ori, slow down, I can't understand you--"

"I'm sorry for everything, I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"Dude, Ori, breathe."

I think I might pass out. The corner of my vision is going blurry, and the room is spinning every time I open my eyes as though I were drunk. But I'm not.

"I'm sorry we're friends, I'm sorry I exist--"

I'm wheezing now.

"Ori, don't say that," Ben begs me, kneeling next to us. "Ori, snap out of it. You're scaring me."

I shut my eyes tight. My mouth is completely dry, and I barely get out the last words. "I'm sorry I was born."

Gloria comes over then.

"What's wrong with him?" Ben asks her. I hear Jake crying again, though my ears are ringing with my deafening pulse so I can barely hear anyone.

"He'll be okay, just give him some time."

"But he--he can barely breathe--"

"Ben, I know this is scary, but he'll be okay. I promise."

All the while all I can do is hiccup and say 'I'm sorry' over and over.