One: What Happens Now?

The emerging sunlight stung my corneas as I glanced at the window. 6:24am and I was in the same spot I had been in. My laptop was asleep on the coffee table in front of me, and I was curled up under a blanket watching Criminal Minds in the same spot I had been in. A nearly empty vodka bottle hung precariously in my fingers, threatening to fall onto the others and awake my company. I felt Danielle snoring down near my legs, and Rick was passed out on the couch next to me. I yawned and pulled the blanket higher over me, careful to not wake Danielle.

I heard my phone ding in the other room. It was definitely either a relative who remembered our relationship when I got famous asking to see if I, and more importantly, my bank about, was okay or one of the twenty-three men I was currently leading on. Matthew Gray Gubler and Paget Brewster gently questioning Morgan's worried family pulled me away from my mind racing into oblivious. It was too late, for as soon as the sound filled the otherwise empty room, I instantly wondered if it was him. I summoned the courage to pull the bottle up to my lips and empty the rest of it into my mouth.

When I had first met him, I thought he was insane to drink so much, since he always outdid me when we got wasted. Now, I understood. I was drinking for fun then, and now I was drinking to drown the thoughts that were trying to drown me. It was amazing how loss brings you so much closer to someone. I heard a key scratching against the lock of the door. I glanced around the room and shrugged. I could take another berating. Finally, the key was harshly shoved into the lock. The key turning and the door opening were separated by mere milliseconds before I heard Britt fling open the door.

"Ugh," she muttered, walking in.

I heard her unforgiving heels clicking as she walked in, and heard the disappointment grow as she came closer and closer to me. She finally emerged and the disappointed sigh slipped out.

"The two people I don't want to be asleep are asleep. Great," she said, setting her purse down. "How are you feeling, Ayanna?"

"Nauseous and cold," I admitted.

"Well, you would probably feel better after a nice, hot shower," she said. It was her managerial way of telling me that she thought I stunk. "How long did they last?"

"Rick was out by midnight, but Danni made it to four am. I think she'll reach a record by the end of the week."

"Sounds like Rick's the one getting woken up," Britt said, seconds before she slapped Rick in the face with a pillow.

He awoke so violently that he fell off the couch, effectively waking Danielle, who pulled out a Glock from nowhere. She looked around, sighed with both tiredness and disappointment that she couldn't pump someone with lead, and reholstered her piece. Britt looked unamused by my bodyguards' demeanors.

"Danni, Rick, we need a Pantry Meeting."

Rick, with an inaudible grumble, got up and followed Britt into the kitchen. Danielle stood, pressed her lips onto my forehead in some odd gesture of love, and followed. I heard them open the door of the pantry and convene in there. Despite my desires, I stood with my blanket wrapped around myself and slowly wandered into the kitchen and sat next to the floor next to the pantry door.

"--I know she's depressed, but we will run into big problems if she continues on like this."

"What do you mean?"

"Roger called me this morning. He had asked how she was and casually hinted that the deadline they set for June can't be pushed back any further."

"I guess it takes time to film something," Rick added with a yawn. "Should we tell her?"

"I don't know what sent her on her spiral, but if it's this job, I don't want to push it onto her harder."

"No, it's not the job," Danielle chimed in. "But, writing is probably not the best idea right now."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, when I tried to get her to take a nap, I glanced at the latest thing she's been working on, and it's not good."

"Like, Lifetime movie not good?"

"Like three pages of her writing sentences of only the word 'ow' bad."

"Well, I don't know what we have to do but we have to get her off of her couch and doing something productive again."

"To be fair, I'm off the couch already," I chimed in

Britt opened the door and looked down at me. "Sorry, Ayanna. Just didn't think--"

"It's whatever," I murmured.

Britt started to talk again, but the vodka was starting to kick in. I stood and walked into my bedroom. The heaviness and warmth of the vodka were already weighing on me. I stood at the foot of my bed, slightly swaying, trying to figure out how to get in without falling. After a few seconds, I laid down on the ground, wrapping my blanket snugly around me, and soon fell asleep.