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I held out for a whole week before curiosity took over and temptation won. A part of me was surprised I even made it that long.

I drew the short straw on a phone interview, and thanks to differing time zones, it required me to wake up at an ungodly hour to take the call. Even a Mountain Dew from the hotel’s vending machine wasn’t helping to wake me up, and I had never acquired a taste for coffee like my brothers had.

“So, what’s it like to be on the road again?”

I rattled off some stock answer about how great our fans were, how great it was to share our music in new cities—at some point even I tuned myself out. It was a boring question, and it deserved a boring answer.

What was it like not to be on the road? That was a better question. Since finally getting the record label going, we had made a point to tour even more than before. Counting promotional things and all the time we had traveled to various cities and countries to record, I was beginning to feel like I had spent more of my life on the road than at home. Someday, I decided, I should do the actual math, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the depressing answer.

“…all three married with children now, is that right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, rolling my eyes and thanking god that the interviewer couldn’t see. How boring could these questions get? How much less about the music? “Yeah, I’ve just welcomed my first this year, so suffice it to say I’m sleeping a lot less whether I’m on the road or at home.”

“I’ll bet,” the DJ said, then spun off into some anecdote about his own children.

He threw to a song soon, after asking my opinion on the artist, who I genuinely hadn’t even heard of before. Based on the autotuned garbage I could hear echoing through the speakerphone, I didn’t think I was missing much.

While the song played, my mind drifted. My wallet sat on the bedside table next to the phone, and I knew the three little pills were still tucked inside of it. My hand seemed to grow a mind of its own, reaching for the wallet and pulling out a pill. It looked almost like candy, but I knew better. I let out a yawn and my mind was made up.

With a swig of Mountain Dew, I swallowed it down.

The DJ came back on the line, and I painted on a smile even if he couldn’t see it. His questions were no better, but I felt myself loosening up, the haze in my mind dissipating and making it easier to pay attention and give not just the basic answers he was looking for, but even crack a few jokes.

“Well, it’s been great talking to you, Zac,” he said. “I know we’re all looking forward to your show here next week.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I replied, my chipper tone surprising even me. Was the Adderall kicking in already? I had no clue how long these sort of things took. “We’re looking forward to being back, and seeing all of our fans again. Hopefully they feel the same way.”

“I’m sure they do.”

The call wrapped up quickly after that, and for that I was grateful. I fell back onto the bed, the sound of my heartbeat loud in my ears. I listened to the not-so-steady thumpity thump of it and felt a bead of sweat rolling down the side of my face. The Adderall had kicked in, I was sure of that now. It was a little scary. But I was sure, down to my bones, that if I could pull myself from the bed, I could take on the world. I could feel it, throbbing just underneath my skin. For once, I was ready to face the day without dread.

One pill. But I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

****

I was putting weight back on, I was sure of it. It was hard to say for sure, when I rarely had a chance to weigh myself. I could only go by my own perception, and somewhere in the rational part of my mind, I knew that was skewed. But I could feel it. I could grab the flab on my sides, on my thighs, everywhere. If I could pinch it, hold it in my hand and feel it jiggle, then it had to be real. I couldn’t be imagining that.

Could I?

I was running every day, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. I had to run farther, run harder. I started waking up early in the mornings, as painful as it might have been, so that no one would know how long I had been gone because they would still be asleep when I returned.

One morning, when I slipped my wallet into the pocket of my hoodie, out slipped another of those pills. Without thinking, I popped it into my mouth and swallowed it down dry. What could it hurt? Maybe it would give me an extra burst of speed—it was, after all, exactly that. I wasn’t naïve. I knew what I was taking. I just didn’t care.

I started off the run slowly, letting myself warm up. I could feel the moment when it kicked in and my feet seemed to magically become lighter. Everything was lighter and brighter. I was seeing the entire world with shocking clarity as I raced past it. A part of me wanted to stop and appreciate the view, but the bigger part couldn’t stop moving.

When I returned to the hotel, I realized that a full two hours had passed. It had felt like only minutes. Mere seconds. My heart was still racing and I collapsed onto my bed without even taking off my shoes.

I awoke sometime later to what sounded like ten thousand hands all trying to beat down my hotel door. After a few seconds, the accompanying voices came into focus—my brothers.

Although my body ached all over, I managed to pull myself out of the bed and pad to the door. I opened it only as far as the chain lock would allow and glared at Taylor. “What do you want?”

“You’re late,” he replied. “And you smell. Did you go for a run this morning? Already?”

“I did,” I replied, giving him a sneer. “And thank you.”

He stared at me for a moment. “Are you alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I just got back from a run, as we’ve already established. Just let me take a shower. The venue will still be there.” I didn’t mean to snap at him, but the words just came out all wrong. Why wouldn’t I be alright? Thanks to my nap, most of the effects of the pill had worn off. I might not have been alright an hour ago, but I was perfectly normal and sober right then.

Taylor stared at me for a moment more, as though something on my face would tell him a different story than my words had. But what could possibly be there for him to see? And even if he could see it, how much of a hypocrite would he be for calling me out on my drug use?

With a sigh and a shake of his head, he said, “Yeah, alright. We’ll be in the lobby. You’ve got fifteen.”

“See you then.”

I didn’t wait for a reply before slamming the door in his face. I supposed this was the comedown; the last time, I’d been in motion so much that I hadn’t even noticed. But a good, hot shower ought to shock my system awake again.

Two pills.

I could have kidded myself that it was still just idle curiosity, but even then, I think I knew better.

****

I took the third before a concert, just because.

There was no point in pretending I had any other reason for it. There hadn’t been time that day for a run, I had eaten too much and I felt like climbing out of my own skin. I sat in the green room and picturing digging my fingernails in and clawing it off, inch by inch. It was a glorious thought, but I knew it was impossible. Still, it was tempting to try.

But one more pill. That was something I could do.

When no one was in the room, I plucked it from my wallet and washed it down with a cold beer. I downed the rest of the beer quickly, not thinking about the calories. I would burn them off during the concert, and then some, with the speed in my system.

That night, I heard every song in technicolor. Every missed note and every perfect one. I heard little quirks in the melodies that I had never noticed before. My own songs were brand new to me and felt like someone else had written them. I supposed I had been someone else when I had written a few of the older ones.

The crowd, too, was in sharper focus than usual. I felt like I could see every single face and hear every single heartbeat. At first it was amazing, but somewhere along the way it became overwhelming. There were too many of them, with too many emotions, and I swore I could feel them all. At some point, I realized I was crying, salty tears mingling with the sweat running down my face. Luckily I had worn my hair down that night, and I doubted anyone but me could tell the difference anyway.

When the show ended and we had taken our bow, I rushed offstage and to the green room. I grabbed another beer from the cooler and downed half of it in one gulp. It tasted like everything and nothing all at once.

“Woo!” Isaac whooped as he came into the room. “I don’t know what you did differently tonight, but you were on fire.”

He clapped me on the back and I forced a big smile. I knew, of course, exactly what I had done differently but I couldn’t very well tell him that. Instead, I forced out a thanks and clinked my beer bottle against his.

Three pills.

Three, tiny little pills. And they were just the beginning, just the tip of the iceberg. Everything that threatened to pour out of my body, make me burst at the seams, I could finally channel it into something useful. I could use those emotions, and then, for a brief time… they were gone.

Three pills. That was all. Hardly worth counting at all, really. Three meaningless little pills.

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