“This is not punk rock,” Lucia said sullenly, as she pushed the cart.

 

Vivian rolled her eyes, and ran her eyes over the shelves.  “Do you see the bouillon cubes?”

 

Lucia shook her head, but she’d barely looked at all.  “Is it over here?”

 

“No, that’s all soups.”

 

“Doesn’t bouillon go in soup?”

 

Vivian twisted her lips, and took a longer look.  “We just need to do this a few times, and it’ll get less painful.  Also, soup is extremely punk rock.”

 

Lucia leaned to the side for a moment and fished her phone out of her pocket.  When she looked down at her screen, her eyebrows started racing toward her hairline.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Uhm…”

 

Vivian stepped around beside her, and Lucia turned the phone so she could see.

 

Show 2nite. Coal Factory@7

Marcus still hurt

U in?

 

Lucia just blinked.

“Marcus... from Death Adder?”

 

Lucia nodded slowly.

 

“No,” Vivian said.  “No way.”

 

“Viv—”

 

“Death Adder?  Really?”

 

“This could be—”

 

Vivian grabbed Lucia’s arm, and pulled her to the side of the aisle.  “Have those guys ever played a show sober?  Like, ever?”

 

“I’m sure they… I mean, they must have, right?”

 

“This is a bad idea,” Vivian said, looking down at her phone and then back up.  “Bad, bad idea.”

 

“Viv, I don’t know that I can afford to say no.”

 

Vivian’s entire body came to a complete stop.  “I mean… If it’s about money—”

 

Lucia interrupted her with a few vigorous waves of her hands.  “That’s not... No.  We didn’t raise that money for me.  You can’t.”

 

Up and down the aisle, people who had been waiting to pass them started turning away.  Whether it was out of embarrassment or impatience, Vivian couldn’t say.  “It’s fine, okay?  I’m ahead of schedule on my therapy, so the costs were lower than—”

 

“No!  I don’t need any handouts!  Nothing happened to me that I didn’t bring on myself, so stop trying to do this, okay?”  Lucia looked around, and her head shrunk into her shoulders.  “I’ve always been self-sufficient.  Always.  If I start relying on you…”  She swallowed hard and shook her head.  “God, if I let you use some of that money on me?  No.  Hell no.”

 

“I know, but this is a bad time!  You’re, what, four days clean at this point?”

 

“I’m always gonna be an addict, Viv.”

 

Vivian blinked.  “You’ve never said that out loud.”

 

The Latina ran her hands through her hair and sighed.  “Don’t make a big thing out of it, okay?”

 

Every inch of Vivian’s body was insisting, loudly, that she make a big thing out of it.  Instead, she just shuffled her toe into the linoleum and bit her lip.  “It’s still a bad time.  You know that.  It’s… It’s all very new, and-and Death Adder?  Like, really?  Something else will come up!”

 

“I can’t be turning down gigs, okay?  That’s all I’ve got coming in right now, and the one thing, the one thing I’ve got going for me is that I can fill in for pretty much anyone.  Whenever something happens, I’m the one they call.  I… I need that to keep being true, okay?  I need to be that person.”  She put her hands on her hips and took a step back, her face pinched in thought.  “I mean, we’re dead in the water, right?”

 

Vivian’s stomach sank.  “Wh-what do you mean?”

 

“Us.  Insanity Hall.  I mean, what are we doing?  Are we broken up?  Are we gonna audition to replace Kevin, or move on as a duo?  What?”  She cursed under her breath and looked down the aisle, refusing to make eye contact.  “I didn’t want to bring this up.  Shit.  I’m sorry.  I’m not trying to rush you, I just… I mean, what are we doing?”

 

Vivian’s voice cracked when she said, “I don’t know.”

 

“Are you leaving me alone in this?  Am I all that’s left?”

 

It felt like a knife in her stomach, and Vivian winced.  

 

Lucia’s face screwed into a tight frown, and she shook her head.  “I shouldn’t have said that.  Shit.  Shit.”  A fast, sharp breath.  “What do you want to do?  Like… like that song you wrote?  Is that what you want to do now?  Is that where you’re at?”

 

“Sort of,” Vivian said, her head hung low.  “That, and… I don’t know.  Disco.”

 

“Disco?”

 

“Yeah,” Vivian said, picking up a little steam.  “Something with energy!  Something my nieces could dance to!  I want to do… indie pop, and write clever lyrics!  Catchy hooks!  I wanna... do interesting covers of songs and... put em up on Youtube.  I want to do a lot of things!”

 

They stared at each other for a long moment.  A long, long moment.

 

“We can talk about that later,” Vivian said.  “Okay?”

 

Lucia nodded.

 

“What if I go with you?  I mean, it’s just a gig, right?  No big deal if I’m there too.”

 

This time, Lucia’s nod was much more hesitant.  “Okay.”

 

***

 

Death Adder was a five piece unit, though only four of them were there when Lucia and Vivian came in through the side entrance.  Their singer, Rasheeda, rushed over first with her arms held out.

 

“It’s so good to see you two,” she said excitedly.  “Vivian, you look great!  How are you feeling?”

 

Vivian gave a reluctant nod.  “Been working on a lot of stuff.  Good, I feel good.”

 

“That’s awesome!”

 

The others came over to join them, and Lucia handled most of the small talk.

 

“Where’s Marcus?” Vivian asked, a minute later.

 

“Migraines,” their bassist Angela said.  “Real bad ones for, like, days now.  He can barely open his eyes.”

 

“That sucks,” Lucia said.

 

“Yeah,” Rasheeda added.  “I was over at his place earlier, and anything more than a whisper was too much.”

 

“How long has he had migraines for?” Vivian asked.

 

The band members looked at each other and shrugged, and it was their guitarist who said, “Dunno, but we’ve all been together, right?  Eating the same foods.  Stuff like that.  I don’t think it was anything we ate or whatever.”  She couldn’t remember his name, but she could have picked out his gaunt features in a crowd of thousands.

 

“Just... one of those things, right?” Lucia said, and they all looked down for a moment and nodded together.  All of them except Vivian.

 

“But hey,” Rasheeda said, her enthusiasm resurging.  “You’re here!  We really appreciate you stepping up!”

 

Lucia grinned, and the two of them shared an exchange somewhere between a high five and an arm wrestling match in mid-air.  “Any time.”

 

“We’ve got a couple new songs we were hoping to play, so I’m glad you got here early.  I got a demo in the back so you can get a feel for what Marcus was doing.  It’s killer stuff.”

 

The crowd moved into the back while their erstwhile roadie, a man who had helped Insanity Hall on more than a few occasions and whose name Vivian also could not recall, toiled away getting cables run and gear unpacked.

 

The backstage area at The Coal Factory had always been one of Vivian’s favorites.  The owners encouraged the bands that played there to leave their mark in whatever way inspired them, so there was a lot of haphazard destruction mixed with expansive art.  The contrasts struck her as beautiful.  The War Room, as it had been affectionately dubbed, had three of the rattiest, worn out couches she had ever seen.  Those couches had endured a lot of action over the years, and Vivian thought it was strange to be walking through it again observing it like an outsider.  She wasn’t just seeing the room, she was seeing the collection of things.

 

And then she saw the eighteen bumps already cut and lined up on the one vaguely-clean surface.

 

“Luc,” she said.

 

“Oh yeah!”  Rasheeda smiled big and gave Vivian a finger gun.  “When we heard you were tagging along, we pulled together for a little extra.  A little ‘welcome back’, you know?”

 

“Luc, no.”

 

Lucia gave her a very intense look, eyes wide, and shook her head.  “Ixnay.”

 

“Luc, no.”

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“No,” Lucia said, at the same time Vivian said, “Yes”

 

Then Vivian added, “She’s going clean on that.  No more coke.”

 

The members of Death Adder all gave each other an uncomfortable look.

 

Vivian grabbed her shoulder, and turned Lucia to face her.  “You don’t need to do this, okay?  This can all just be behind you.  We can figure something else out, and move on from this.  Completely.”

 

“Maybe I can just play it,” Lucia said, even as she stared sideways at the parallel lines of white powder.

 

Rasheeda again was the first to regain her exuberant composure.  “You might wanna hear the demo first.”

 

“Why would that matter?” Vivian asked.  Her face felt hot.  She wished her voice had carried even a piece of the anger she felt, but she knew her tone was still flat.  

 

“I mean, no disrespect, but Marcus is an animal.  This is some next level speed even for us, and the last time you filled in you were only just keeping up.  The kick drums alone are a nightmare.  For you guys, this’d be like...”

 

“Yeah,” their guitarist chimed in.  “You’re probably gonna need the boost.  I know I do.”

 

Lucia froze, her shoulders hunched, as Vivian stepped in close to her.  “You can’t, okay?”

 

“Hey come on,” Rasheeda said.  “We’re counting on her tonight.  She’s literally the only person who could step in and do this on this kind of notice!”

 

“You can’t.”

 

Lucia stared back at her and, for the first time in as long as Vivian had known her, she looked lost.

 

“We’re leaving,” Vivian said, as she took hold of Lucia’s biceps.

 

The outcry behind her was instantaneous.  They were in an uproar, shouting and pleading in turns, but Vivian listened to absolutely none of it.  She put her head down and walked, with her friend in tow, back to their van while Death Adder went through all five stages of grief in their wake.  She pushed Lucia into the passenger seat, shut the door, and gave their pursuers the finger before hopping into the driver’s seat.

 

Her whole body was vibrating as she drove.  It was hard to focus through the rage, and her body was an imperfect vessel for it.  It didn’t occur to her that it was her first time behind the wheel since the accident, and right away she felt a little jerky.  There was nothing to be done, though, so she put her head down and did her best.  Beside her, Lucia was quiet.

 

“I’m sorry,” Vivian said, when she felt like she’d started to calm down.  “I’m really sorry.”  Tears kept welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them away as fast as she could.

 

Lucia merely shook her head.

 

“I don’t know what came over me.  I… Should I not have done that?  Ah shit.”  Then her temper flared.  “No, you know,” Vivian ranted, “I am so done.  I am, just, done with the person I used to be.  They heard I was coming and just… had shit for me?  They just expected I’d be dying to go right back to it, because that’s who I was, and I’m done with that.  I’m done with them.  I’m done with it all!”

 

Lucia peered at her quietly, and hugged her legs a little more tightly.

 

“You know I felt it too, right?”

 

Lucia shook her head.

 

“When I was looking at that mirror?  I mean, how easy would it have been to take a line and let go for a while?  I’m not immune.”

 

Lucia just blinked her big, brown eyes.  “Thank you.”

 

Vivian was sure she must have misheard her, and did not think she could handle driving and much else so she pulled over to the side of the road and flicked on her hazards.

 

The Latina repeated, “Thank you.”

 

Her heart leapt into her throat.  “Really?”

 

Lucia pulled her feet up onto the seat, and curled her arms around her knees.  “I… I think I needed someone to stand up for me.”

 

Vivan reached over, wrapped her hand around Lucia’s, and squeezed, and the little dark-haired girl beside her squeezed right back.