Does it make me a bitch if I wish bad things for her tonight? Like fall off the stage.

The longer I stood there and watched it unfold in front of me, the madder it made me. She may as well have been dry humping his leg and still he wouldn’t have made a move to stop her. How dare he let her touch him after spending the biggest portion of the day in bed with me? By the time he finally made eye contact with me, I was beyond mad. Not only mad, I was hurt. Hurt that he'd let another woman touch him in that way. The way she was touching him was almost intimate, as if there was something between the two of them. I was out of the room and down the hall before he ever made it to the door.

"Honesty!" I heard him call from somewhere behind me, but I kept running toward the exit, dodging people and equipment along the way.

I should have known better than to let myself get close to him. Seeing him with her was like a kick in the stomach. I felt like throwing up. All the warnings from my brother and the other guys came rushing back to me and I could see now that they truly were just trying to look out for me. There was no way that I could watch him play. I didn’t want to be anywhere near him. If that was the type of woman he was into, then he could have her. I definitely wouldn’t be standing in his way. I stormed down the hall and out the back door as fast as my heels would let me without breaking my neck. I was hot and sweaty and the cool night air gave me chills once I stepped outside. I stood in the alley, alone in the cool night air, and called a cab. Maybe my mother was right, maybe men are evil.

"Honesty!" He shouted my name as door swung open and he stepped out into the alley. "It's not what it looked like," he explained as he stepped in front of me, trying to get me to look at him. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He shuffled his feet and stared at the ground and for a moment. I thought maybe I had over exaggerated, but when I pictured them in my mind, her with her hands on him, I remembered very clearly why I was so upset.

"No? If it's not what it looked like then, please enlighten me as to what was going on between the two of you," I said, my eyes meeting his. The moment I looked into his eyes, I realized that something was different. His eyes were red and dilated, and almost wild looking. He grabbed my shoulders aggressively and leaned in close to my face, so close that I could smell alcohol on his breath. This was the Linc that I had read about in the tabloids. The Linc that I wanted so desperately to believe didn't exist, but there in front of me, was the man that was spiraling out of control. I had to get away from him.

The cab pulled into the alley and stopped in front of me. "Take your hands off of me," I demanded, stepping backward and breaking free from his grip. "I can't do this," I whispered. I could feel the tears already building up behind my eyes. I needed to hold it together long enough to get in the car. I would not let him see me cry over him. I was stronger than that.

I slid onto the vinyl seat, closed the car door, and locked it. Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I could see him still standing there, staring at me with his hands balled into fists at his sides. He was breathing like he had just run a race. When the cab pulled away, I let the first tear fall.

Once I had arrived back in my room, I double locked the door and hit the shower.

Fuck! I'm so stupid! How could I ever believe we could work out?

The man even told me that he doesn't “do relationships.” I don't know why I thought that I would be any different than any other groupie to hit this tour. The only difference in me and the others was the fact that my brother was in the band. I expected to change him. I thought that, somehow, I'd be enough to make him change his ways, but I know now I could see that was just not true.

I turned the water on as hot as I could stand and slipped underneath the spray, letting it pelt down onto my skin. I used the heat of the water and the sting of the spray to distract me for as long as I could. I lost track of time, and after a long while, the water turned cold. I turned the water off and stepped out onto the soft, white rug, wrapping myself in one of the oversized hotel towels. I didn’t even bother dressing for bed.

Exhausted, I slid between the cool sheets and closed my eyes, trying to forget the sight of her with her hands on him and the look in his eyes as he tried to talk to me outside in the alley. I lay there, my mind swirling and my heart breaking, and sleep eventually took over, pulling me in.

I was awakened by a loud noise sometime in the night. It took me a minute to wake up enough to realize that someone was knocking on my door. I slipped from the bed and grabbed a t-shirt from my suitcase, pulling it on before looking through the peephole in the door. Just as I thought, it was Linc. He was standing on the other side of the door with his hands shoved in his front pockets, staring at the floor.

"Linc, what do you want?" I asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. "It's two in the morning," I said through the metal door.

"Open the door, Honesty. I need to talk to you," he pleaded.

"Go away, Linc. I don't want to hear what you have to say," I told him, and watched as he ran his hand through his already messy hair.

"Honesty, I know you think you saw something tonight in the dressing room, but I promise you that it's not what it looked like," he said, looking up at the peephole, causing me to take a step back, unsure why; it was not like he could see me.

"Linc, I know what I saw. I know what was going on. I should have listened to my brother when he warned me to stay away from you." I could hear movement on the other side of the door and I looked out the peephole to find that he was sitting on the floor with his head leaning against the opposite wall.

"Honesty..." he started, but I cut him off.

"Linc, it's over. I guess it's a good thing that we're not in a committed relationship, so I guess you're free to do whatever or whomever you want. Now, please go away," I begged him as I crossed the room and crawled back in bed. I pulled the comforter up over my head and began to cry.

I was actually glad that I saw him with her, as painful as it was. Between the women and the drugs, it was bound to happen sooner or later. At least now I could move forward with some of my heart left intact.

Linc

I had to find a way to make this right. I needed to quit the coke. I knew that. Nothing good ever came from it and now I had probably lost the only woman I had ever cared about.

I just needed to ask myself one thing: Do I care about her more than the coke?

I had always thought of cocaine as the White Ghost. It was always there in the back of my mind. I couldn’t see it but, it was there, and while I was at my lowest point, it appeared, reminding me of how good it made me feel.

The first time The Ghost made an appearance in my life was a little over a year ago, when we first toured with Sweet Misery. Tegan made me an offer I couldn't refuse and I had been paying for it ever since. Since that day, I needed it more and more to function. People had no clue about the things we went through. If it was’nt for cocaine, there would have been days that I couldn't have got out of bed. When you work crazy hours like I did, you need something to keep you going, especially when we had back to back shows on top of appearances and openings. The moment I snorted that first line, all of my senses cleared and I could concentrate on playing music and doing the things that I needed to do. I did it to keep myself sane and make the fans happy; as fucked up as that may sound. That is what I would tell myself anyway. It was why I was able to stay up forty-eight plus hours straight.