“Ugh, that blood hungry ghoul.”
Brian laughs and lets go of me. “And what am I?”
“You’re the sadist.”
“You’re right I am. Time for wrist rotations, your fav.”
“I knew it, you’re enjoying me pain.”
“Not only that, I get paid for it. Come on, ten times clockwise and then anticlockwise, start with the left.”
I do what he says, because I’ve learned there’s no point in trying to do otherwise. “Owwwww, son of a bitch in heat!” I curse as my wrist turns.
“Yup. Just what I like to hear.”
***
I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, testing out the range of my wrist again an hour later, when it sounds like an entire bus of school children is emptied into my room.
“What the-…” I say, before my words are drowned out by the noise.
I watch as my three band mates, their three partners, Dennis, Hailey, Hank, our assistant, Mike the bodyguard, two of our sound technicians, and four of our roadies pile into the room. They’re talking amongst themselves, each carrying baskets and bags and magazines and toys.
“Excuse me,” I say, trying to get their attention.
No one bothers to even turn in my attention.
“OI! Seb! Cadence! Brad!” I call out their names one by one. Nothing.
“ANCA!” Surely my baby sister won’t ignore me. But she doesn’t even flinch, just continues laughing at something Dennis is telling her.
I push through the crowd into the middle of the room, and let out the longest dog whistle I can.
Everyone finally shuts up.
“What in the fuck is going on here, you bunch of DICKMUFFS!” I yell, throwing my arms as high as they will go.
They just all stare back at me, before bursting into laughter and resuming their conversations.
I must be crazy. This is some weird alternate wonderful life type fucked up universe where I don’t exist or everyone is playing a prank on me.
I whistle again.
And this time they shut up, and stay quiet.
“Thank you! Now would some please explain what is going on here?”
Anca clears her throat and steps into the middle of the room next to me.
“We are here. For an intervention.”
I roll my eyes. “Good god. What’d I do?”
“Oh no, it’s not an intervention for you, it’s an intervention for us.” She gestures to everyone around the room and they all nod along.
“What the fuck for?”
“Oh, we are all here, to intervene each other from falling for your self-pity partying, whiny bull shit.” There’s a cheer from somewhere in the back, and Dennis hushes them.
I frown at Anca. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, YOU, big brother, have been wallowing in your own self-pity for three months now and we have all been here for you. Even when you wouldn’t let us. So we’re here to tell each other, no more. We are not going to let us, let you feel sorry for yourself, for another day.”
“So, it’s not an intervention for me.”
“No. You’re just here to witness it.”
“But I don’t want to.”
“Tough, that’s part of the intervention – that we are not going to listen to what you say, until you shape up.”
“This feels curiously like an intervention for me.” I narrow my eyes at her, but she just smiles her angelic smile back at me. But I know that smile. I’m in for some pain.
“You’re wrong, not everything is about you. Sheeeeesh.”
“You’re bloody nuts. All of you.”
“Quiet. You’re not allowed to speak out of turn. So! Who’s up first?” She looks around the room of all the people who know and love me most.
“Me!” Sebastian yells, from somewhere at the back of the room. He sidles up next to Anca and pulls a sheet of crumpled paper out from his back pocket. He clears his throat and then gestures with his head for me to move.
“For fuck’s sake. We’re really doing this?”
“Of course. We brought snacks, man. You know it’s serious if we brought snacks. Now, get out of the way please.”
“It’s MY room.”
“Well, it’s being paid for by your health insurance which the band pays for, so, yeah, it’s ours. Now shush. I’ve got the floor.”
“This is insane.” I shake my head and take a step back.
“Ahem. Dear group. I’m Sebastian and this is an intervention.”
“Hi, Sebastian,” everybody chants.
“Oh, we’re going that? Okay. I would like to say that since Jez has been in this hospital, he has been a meanie poohhead and has hurt my feelings on numerous occasions.”
“Oh, shut up, anus-cream-rub!” I holler.
“Like, one time he called me anus-cream-rub. I think as a group it’s important that we need to not let Jez be a mean poohhead to us anymore. It’s not a good example for, you know, the children.”
Anca nods and pats his shoulder. “Thank you, Sebastian. Next?”
“ME!” Brad yells and does a somersault into the middle of the room.
“I don’t need to read from paper because I’m going to speak from my heart,”
“Your heartworm maybe,” I mutter under my breath.
“SHHH.”
“Dear Group.” He pauses. “Oh, so there’s a ‘Hi, Seb’ for Seb but no ‘Hi, Brad’ for Brad? That’s okay. I’ll cry about that later. I would like to say that as a group, I think we are sick and tired of Jeremy’s boo-hoo attitude. and we shouldn’t take it anymore. Someone should remind him that he has the best friends in the world, millions of dollars and a six pack. What more does he want?”
“Hear, hear!”
“Thank you for your touching words, Brad.” Anca tells him and turns to the group. “Anyone else?”
“Um, I have one.” A voice from the doorway speaks up.
“Oh! Toni… everyone, this is Jez’s day nurse, Toni.” Anca introduces my traitor nurse to the crowd. “I bet she has a lot to add.”
“Yes. Um, Dear Group, I’m Toni.”
“Hi, Toni,” everyone chants.
“Sure,” Brad grumbles.
“I have been taking care of His Highness Petrescu for about two months now, since he came out of his beauty nap and moved up here from ICU and I have to say, he is very lucky to have you as a group. As a group you are kind, and loving, and rowdy as all hell, but I’ve seen you, and I could only wish that every single one of my patients had a group like you. So, I would like to be added to the intervention group ethos, that we shall no longer allow ourselves to be bullied by his Dimple Butted Highness.”
“Thank you, Toni. We love you, too.” Anca says, giving her a hug. “Alright! Is that all?”
I sigh and step back into the middle of the room. “Since it’s my intervention, surely I get a chance to say something”
“But it’s not your-…”
“Yeah, yeah. Your turn to shush now, little sis. Okay, Dear Group. I am Jez.”
No one says anything.
Brad jeers. “Yeah, see how you like it.”