“No, I don’t. Not right now. I’m happy with my mates. I’m the team captain. I’m eventually going to get overthrown. Bitterness and jealousy is always the cancer that blows things to smithereens.”
“Why do you believe this will happen to you and your group?”
“Human nature. The King always gets overthrown.”
“Do you think of yourself as the King?”
“Yes, and I’m not ashamed of it. I’m the star. I’ve been in this business for a long time. No one wants to give me respect because of my age but I’m a damn good songwriter. We’ve had four number one hits because of me. I’ve had seven other number ones for songs I’ve written and produced for other artists. I deserve more respect than I get.”
“Your fans respect you.”
“Well, these industry pillocks don’t. They believe because I’m in a boy band I’m not worthy. But I’m going to show those moon-faced idiots.”
“I believe you already have. You will continue to show them your value and worth. But you can’t show them anything if you resort back to your old ways.”
I groaned. “I believe I had my old ways under control.”
“You equate being in control with overdosing, cardiac arrest, dying and being revived with being in control?”
He had me dead to rites. “Not always in control but I had my moments.”
“They will never hear your future works if you die of a drug overdose. Have you ever thought that you were put here for a higher purpose?”
“By who? God? Sorry, doc but he’s a fucking wanker. If he exists at all, I have no respect for him. He’s taken everyone I ever loved.”
“Why do you wear a cross around your neck?”
“Because my mum gave it to me. It’s fashionable and I am a fashion icon.”
“So you don’t believe in God?”
“I did when I was young and stupid.”
“So, now what are you?”
“Okay, Doc I see what you’re doing?”
“What am I doing?” He tapped his pen on his notepad that sat in his lap. I never noticed either item until now.
“You’re trying to say I’m still young and stupid.”
“Are you those things?”
“No, I’m not. I’m a Grammy award-winning multi-millionaire.”
“Does money make you smart?”
“No, of course not. I earned my money. I didn’t inherit it. I haven’t squandered it so that makes me pretty fucking intelligent.”
“Does having money make you happy?”
“It surely doesn’t make me sad.” I barked.
“I’m trying to understand why you took this path.”
“What, the path of heroin, cocaine and assorted party favors?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
“It’s not something I planned. The drugs were there. I said, why not.”
“You shouldn’t make light of addiction. It is not beneficial to belittle its effects and the negative impact it has played in your life. Tell me the first time you tried drugs.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Every addict remembers their first hit.”
I thought about it and the incident appeared in my mind. “I was doing a gig in Hackney. It was raining. I didn’t have a brolly. It wasn’t dry when I hit the stage. The house drummer had some diesel. I’m fifteen and I’m don’t know what the fuck it is. I’m used to yay. We went back to his place for a party. There was this older girl. She does the brown right in front of me and I do it too. I didn’t want to look like a baby.”
“Why did you feel like you had to impress this older girl?”
“I’m Jagger Bowie Adkins. Isn’t that a good enough reason?”
“Did she know who you were?”
“Yes, of course. She’d seen me on the tele in Kiddie Kingdom when I was a lad. She’d seen my films too.”
“So it’s safe to say she was already impressed.”
“I guess so.”
“You didn’t have to do drugs to impress her. Your talent was sufficient.”
“Well, when you say it like that it all seems a bit pointless. I wanted to shag her. I thought if I did the brown with her she would let me have a proper go.”
“You know it’s important that during your recovery you stay away from having any intimate relationships.”
“Yes, I know shagging is strictly prohibited.”
“The focus is on you and your recovery.”
“The focus had always been on me. That’s my life story.”
“I’m here for you. I want to make it clear to you that you come first.”
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
“The record company pays you for this little babysitting contract.”
“It doesn’t matter where the money comes from. It’s my ethical duty to put your health and well being first. The record company doesn’t control me and they don’t control you either.”
“Well, they certainly seem to think they control me. Sometimes I lash out. I want to be my own person.”
“I want that too.”
“I think they’re afraid of me. If I stop, the money stops. If I die, everything dies with me. I own the rights to my music, my likeness, my name, and the band’s name.”
“You have a lot of responsibility. Do you feel overwhelmed?”
I carefully thought about his question. “All the time.”
“Do you feel suicidal?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Have you ever seriously considered the impact your death would have on the people who know you and listen to your music?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because when I’m getting high I’m only concerned about myself. I’m chasing my high. I’m blocking out everything to feel like the best me I can be.”
“You ever think you can be the best you while sober?”
“It’s possible, I suppose. But I’ve been smoking weed since I was twelve and heroin since fifteen. It’s a way of life.”
“There has to be at least one musician that died of a drug overdose that you admired.”
“Not just one, many. I mean Amy. She was a great singer-songwriter. I met her once when I was a small lad. I was on Kiddie Kingdom. She told me she watched the show. I don’t know if it was rubbish but it sure made me feel good. My mum loved Amy’s music. She played Back To Black all the time. Amy died when I was ‘round seven or eight and I just remember feeling extremely sad.
