Page 231 of Silver Sweet

“Dude, I would call that a full-blown meltdown. And what’s there to talk about? I didn’t knowsleepwas a sensitive subject. I get now why you’d turn off my alarm.”

“But you still feel like those four hours might be the reason we fail?”

Tension tightens my spine. “I know it seems stupid, but every minute counts. Every opportunity could be the one that matters the most.”

“You can’t…that’s not…” He blows out a frustrated breath. “It’s impossible to do everything, Tom.”

“It’s not.”

“You have to sleep, man.”

“I honestly don’t need it,” I tell him. “I’m kicking fine with two to three hours. I have been for over a week.”

Phoenix stares harder at me. Way more intensely. His elbow rests above my head on the cushion. He’s studying me, his eyes on mine. “Did you lie to me?” he asks. “About taking coke?”

Fuck.Fuck.

I’m rigid.

“No. I didn’t.” I swallow a rock. “But I am taking Adderall.”

His jaw tics. He pulls up off me in an instant. The lack of skin-to-skin contact—the sudden emptiness without the pressure of his chest on mine—flames me in a horrible way.

“I want you to stop taking it,” Phoenix says.

“I can’t,” I tell him, sitting up against the concrete couch. “Itrulycan’t, dude. Like it’s helping so much. The shows are incredible. I’ve never been tired. It’s honestly a miracle drug, and it’snotcocaine. Okay, doctors prescribe this shit.”

Phoenix narrows his eyes. “You’re getting it from your doctor then.”

He’s not asking.

He knows I’m not or else maybe I wouldn’t have hid it in the first place. “I don’t see the big deal,” I tell him.

“The big deal…” Phoenix shakes his head. “Adderallmaskssleep deprivation. You haven’t crashed yet. But it’s coming for you, and then what are you going to do? Take more?” His expression fractures. “It causesinsomnia, Tom. Do you know what I would give to be able to fucking sleep. And you’re just throwing that away like it’s not the most priceless fucking thing in your life!”

My eyes scald.

My throat is raw sandpaper.

I don’t want to fight with him—but I don’t know how to change what’s happening in my head.

“Phoenix, I understand all of that. I really do,” I choke out. “But it feels like if I don’t take it, my entire world is going to end.”

“It won’t,” he tells me.

“I’ve had this dream since I was a little kid. And theonething in my way right now is time. I don’t have enough hours in the day, and it’s such an easy solution. Just let me do this while we’re on tour. I’ll stop once it’s over. Okay?”

His face breaks. He crawls off the couch completely and leaves me in the back lounge alone.

53

TOM COBALT

We skip our pre-show ritual for the first time. After twenty-two shows, the streak ends in Amarillo, Texas. No pinky clasp. No promise this is where something good will grow. His flesh. My bone.

The chill between us in the green room crystalizes my internal organs. Making each breath more painful. I want to fix this, but I can’t figure out the solution. Not in enough time, anyway.

I’m onstage beneath cold blue lights.