IMPORTANT NOTE – Trigger warning for more hints at (past) suicide attempts. I don't really know if I should put a trigger warning for this other thing or not, but I know it bothers some people, so nevertheless, I'll put an emetophobia warning, too… :|

Chapter 12: One Hell of a Night

The next minute or so was a bit of a blur for Summer. All she could tell was that she could hear herself crying, "Oh my God, this is amazing!" over and over again, that just about everyone else had stood up and started cheering and clapping, and that people were hugging her and patting her on the back as she was pulled to her feet.

"Jerrica, oh my God, I actually won!" she cheered, looking down at where Jerrica still sat. Squinting up at Summer as she stepped out into the aisle, Jerrica asked dazedly, "Is that why everyone's…"

"Yeah, that's right!" Summer answered. With that, she started walking up towards the stage with Jerrica getting up and following close behind, asking, "Where are we going?" By the time they reached the stage, the ringing in Jerrica's ears was so bad that she barely even heard Summer telling her to wait by the steps and stay put as the girl eased her down to have a seat.

"I'll stay here," Jerrica shouted feebly as Summer went up the steps. As Summer left her there, the spotlight that had shone on them both moved to now focus solely on Summer onstage, leaving Jerrica hidden in shadow. Up onstage, Tori Parke gave Summer a huge hug and congratulated her again before handing her the Grammy and stepping aside to let Summer have the microphone.

Glancing down at the award in her hand, Summer let out a flustered cry of "Oh, wow!" Pulling herself together enough to speak, she went on, "Oh, my God; I didn't even have a speech planned or anything, I didn't think I'd actually win any awards – but here I am, actually holding one of these! Uh…" She tried desperately to scramble through her memories of listening to other Grammy winners' acceptance speeches. "Um…thank you to my manager, Devon Larsen – thank you so much for believing in me and pushing me to be all I could be, even when I didn't want to do it…" She laughed.

"Wait, did you win?" Jerrica called from the steps. Summer cast an awkward glance in her direction, her heart skipping a beat. "Did you just win?" Jerrica called again.

Ignoring her, Summer turned back to the microphone and went on, "Thank you to my friends watching the ceremony on TV back home in San Diego, you guys have always believed in me and supported me so much…er…thank you also to my dad, right here in the audience. I know you haven't been in my life for very long, but in that short time, you've been so supportive; I know Mom would be, too, but I'm sure she's watching this all on TV somewhere in the country right now…" She cast another anxious glance offstage as she saw Jerrica stand up and start climbing up the steps.

"And last but not least, thank you to Jerrica Benton, also known as Jem – and really, to all of the Holograms," Summer continued. "Without them, and without a crazy chance meeting between Jerrica and I a few months ago, I would've never gotten a career in music –"

"Should I come over there or something? Still looking for the bathrooms."

"– or at least, it would've been much more difficult and taken way longer without them. You guys have inspired me so much and I'll always love you and your music," Summer continued as Jerrica came up onto the stage, almost directly into the spotlight. As Jerrica stood teetering just a few feet from the edge of the stage, Summer added, "I've always wanted to be a singer thanks to the Holograms, and it's mainly because of Jerrica that I'm here today." As Jerrica started making her way over to Summer, she swayed horribly, making Summer laugh nervously and joke, "Wow, looks like everyone's havin' fun tonight!"

"Yup. I don't feel too good, either."

"Er…I…"

"Oh, shit," Jerrica mumbled as she came fully into the spotlight, looking up at the overhead screens displaying the camera footage of the stage. Pointing, Jerrica chuckled idiotically, "Hey, look, it's you."

"Um…" Summer felt like she was fighting hard to keep her cool. "If I haven't thanked anyone else that I've worked with yet, just know that I really appreciate you, and –"

"Did you see you're up there?" Jerrica asked, pointing at the screens again. Casting a quick glance in the direction Jerrica was pointing, Summer laughed nervously. "Yeah, I did." She could feel her ears going pink as she heard a few people in the audience start chuckling. Putting an arm around Jerrica's shoulders, Summer went on, "I got my big break when I went on tour with the Holograms several months ago, and…it was just so amazing and so surreal, 'cause Jerrica here has literally been my idol since I was five years old – right, Jerrica?"

"Yeah, right," Jerrica mumbled. As the crowd started cheering again, however, she slurred quietly, "I'm still feeling sick – and dizzy, too…"

By now, Summer was starting to ramble on out of frayed nerves. "I'm so blessed to have her as basically my mentor," she continued, recalling the fight she and Jerrica had had a while back (and laughing somewhat at the memory), "and to be such good friends with amazing musicians like the Holograms; this is a dream come true, and I just wanna say to everyone out there in the audience and watching at home: there's plenty of room for you in the spotlight, so believe in yourself, don't give up, and don't let anyone put you down. Goodnight!" She turned away from the microphone abruptly at the sound of more laughter to see that Jerrica was staggering around the stage again. "Jerrica, what is it?"

"Is the whole room spinning, or just my stomach?" Jerrica slurred. "I don't feel so go –" But before Jerrica could even finish what she was saying, she took a couple steps before she suddenly pitched forward and vomited.

The audience gasped in shock and disgust, and Summer made a face as she stepped in front of Jerrica to hide her from the cameras, picking up the train of her dress and trying not to be sick herself. Still doubled over, Jerrica took a couple more staggering steps to the side before passing out and hitting the stage, raising more gasps from the audience.

In an instant, Summer had set down her Grammy award and was down on her knees by Jerrica, along with Tori Parke and a couple of stagehands who'd rushed onto the scene. "Jerrica, wake up!" Summer cried, shaking Jerrica in an attempt to wake her up. "Oh, shit – shit, shit, SHIT!"

In just a few minutes, some more stagehands had come to clean up the scene, while the stagehands who'd first come onstage had gotten a now semi-conscious Jerrica to her feet and were leading her towards the bathrooms, since there were a couple shower stalls in there. Summer followed close behind along with Devon and her dad, and all that could be heard were confused voices.

"What the hell happened to her?"

"I think she was drunk; that's a really bad come-down."

"She was drunk, I could tell!" Summer cried, stressed from all the racket and confusion.

"Holy shit!"

"C'mon, let's get her to the shower – to the left…"

"On the right; follow me!"

"Go back to the audience, Summer, they've got her!" her dad told her firmly.

"No, wait –"

Tugging on Summer's arm, Devon urged, "Come on, Summer, let's get back to –"

"Leave me alone!" Summer pleaded, her voice cracking as she pulled her arm away. "Jerrica, wake up!"

Just before the stagehands pulled Jerrica into the women's room, Summer's dad grabbed Jerrica by the shoulders. "How the fuck could you do this to my daughter?! You stay the fuck away from her after this, after everything –"

"Dad, STOP!" Summer shrieked, pulling her dad away from Jerrica. With that, the two stagehands got Jerrica into the bathroom and into one of the shower stalls.

"Damn it, watch her fucking head!" In a moment, the shower was on and Jerrica lay semi-conscious under the water. Breaking free from both her dad and Devon trying to lead her away, Summer ran into the bathroom, only pausing to get her shoes off before climbing right into the shower (and instantly ruining her dress in the process) to try and get Jerrica to sit up.

"Jerrica, wake up!" Summer cried hoarsely, trying to pull Jerrica into a sitting position. "Come on, wake up!"

The water did revive Jerrica a little bit – but only enough for her to vomit some more. Trying not to feel sick again, Summer went on, "Come on, Jerrica, you need to sit up! I don't want you to choke, come on – wake up, WAKE UP!"

Coming to a bit more as Summer tried to pull her upright, Jerrica muttered, "I think I might've had too much to drink."

"You alright in there?" someone called from right outside the bathroom.

"I'm fine!" Summer answered in a strangled cry, clearly not fine. "We're fine!"

Summer didn't bother sticking around for the after-party, or even for the rest of the Grammy Awards – not that there was much point in staying, anyway, since her dress was wrecked. Instead, she returned to Starlight Mansion with Devin and Jerrica, and after making sure that Jerrica would be okay for the night, she herself went and got ready for bed, putting her Grammy award up on the shelf over her desk.

Jerrica hadn't told Summer anything about being on the waiting list to get into rehab for months – but considering what had happened at the Grammy Awards, maybe it was just as well that she finally got checked in three days later.

Now, a few days after getting in, she was walking to one of her meetings. There was a good mix of people in the group – men and women, young and old. Everyone sat in a ring of chairs with a notebook in their lap, and the counselor leading the group was saying, "Has everyone got their journals? We all remember the homework assignment, yes: the three things I wanted you to write down?" Looking up, he saw Jerrica coming into the room. "Hey, Jerrica."

"Sorry I'm late," Jerrica muttered, taking a seat.

"You can't be late, Jerrica; you know that, right?"

"Right. Sorry."

"Good. Have you got your journal with you?"

"Oh, fuck, I left it in my room," Jerrica grumbled, starting to get up from her chair – but the counselor waved her down again. "Never mind, it's fine; you're here now," he told her. Taking a seat, he addressed everyone else, "So it's understood that we're not late for these meetings, right?"

The other people in the circle nodded or murmured their agreements.

"Alright, then, that's good." Turning to Jerrica, who kept her gaze on the floor, he added, "Since you don't have your journal handy, is there anything you'd like to tell us?"

"Hmm…" Jerrica still didn't look up, but after a moment's hesitation, she said, "I'm grateful to be here, and, uh…I'm just trying to hold it together. Um…my name's Jerrica, and I'm an alcoholic."

Everyone quietly said their hellos.

"And a drug addict." She still didn't look up.

After Jerrica had gone into rehab, Summer's dad had agreed to stay with her at Starlight Mansion for a while to make sure she was okay before heading home to Santa Barbara. By this point, it had been a week-and-a-half since Jerrica had first checked into rehab.

At the moment, Summer and her dad were sitting in the dining room with some pizza. Upstairs, her Grammy award still sat on the shelf where she'd left it – but Summer didn't feel as excited about winning it now as she should've been. Every time she looked at it, it kept reminding her of the disaster that night had been.

Summer's dad had been staring moodily off into space before he said out of the blue, "This is all my fault."

"No-one's blaming you for what happened at the Grammys, Dad," Summer replied. "Just eat some dinner – or food…God, I don't even know what meal this is."

"I'm not even thinking about that anymore," he told her. "I mean, yeah, I did overreact when I said I didn't want Jerrica being anywhere near you again, but I was thinking more about when your mom and I put you up for adoption."

Summer rubbed her forehead wearily. "Dad, not that again…"

"I'm serious," he insisted. "If your mom and I had kept you, it would've been better for us all: we would've been so supportive of you wanting to be a singer, you wouldn't have gotten all that trauma you had growing up, and the three of us would've been a family." He sighed. "Maybe your mom and I would've even stayed together – but we weren't there to support you for all those years. Now you're nineteen and we're only just starting to bond, and you still haven't even met your mom."

"But the fact is that we are bonding now," Summer reassured him, putting a hand on her dad's shoulder. "And you need to stop beating yourself up about giving me away. You didn't have a crystal ball or anything, there was no way you could've known what was gonna happen to me. Besides, I probably would've had a harder time getting my music career off the ground if all the stuff that happened to me didn't happen at all; hell, maybe I never would've become so interested in music in the first place."

Summer's dad gave her a long look before he admitted gruffly, "Maybe you're right."

Getting up from her chair, Summer went over beside her dad to give him a hug more easily. "Love you, Dad."

During that time, Summer also talked with Brett some more, as the two were able to sympathize with one another over Jerrica's going into rehab. As Summer had gotten more comfortable around Brett and started to trust him better, she'd started feeling more comfortable with inviting him over to Starlight Mansion rather than meeting at different restaurants.

"What do you think about it all?" Summer asked Brett one afternoon.

He shook his head. "I don't really know what to think," he admitted. "I'm glad she's getting help and all, but it sucks that it had to get to this point."

"Yeah. I don't know why she never told me about being on the rehab waiting list, though…"

"I dunno. Pride, maybe?" Brett shrugged.

"Maybe. I remember not being psyched about it when my high school classmates found out I'd been in rehab, either. I just wish she'd told me she was on the waiting list."

Brett nodded sympathetically. "Yeah, I agree she probably should've told you. Kinda sucks to see her in such a state, though, y'know?"

"And I mean, you've known her longer than I have, too."

"Exactly."

"Well…I hope it's helping her, at least."

Two months later

One activity that Jerrica had really started to enjoy while in rehab was swimming – preferably in the large outdoor pool than the indoor one. The weather was usually pretty warm in LA, but it was especially warm for April, so Jerrica was taking full advantage of it. On this particular morning, she was wrapped in a towel and still dripping wet from her swim as she sat on a bench by the pool with one of the doctors she'd had a lot during her time in rehab.

"So long have you been in rehab for?" she was asking Jerrica.

"About two months now," was the answer. "And I get out next month, I think."

The doctor nodded. "Can it be fixed?" she asked.

"You'd know about that, wouldn't you? I mean, once a person's hearing is gone, it's completely gone," Jerrica answered.

"Well, I don't know exactly what it is that you have."

"Ah. Well, they say once you get tinnitus, then…"

"Hmm. Tinnitus can't be fixed."

"I know. I just hear a weird tone or ringing in my ears a lot, particularly when I'm in loud crowds or whatever, that's all. Most people think it started when we got our band going in the 80s, but I think it really started when I was even younger. I liked listening to loud music a lot when I was young; I think it kinda helped me cope with both of my parents' deaths."

"They died around the same time?"

"No, several years apart, my mom first and then my dad. My younger sister often accused me of caring less about our dad than our mom since I never showed as much emotion about his death as our mom's, but she was also younger than I was when Mom died, so she didn't have as many memories of her. But my dad's death still affected me, I just didn't let her see it the same 'cause I wanted to be strong for her." Jerrica paused before she went on, "I actually considered suicide once not long after it happened; that was the worst place I was ever in, 'cause I realized that now both my parents were gone and I was scared of being head of the house, so I sat in the bathroom, got a couple razor blades, and tried to do the deed."

The doctor raised her eyebrows a little, both in surprise and as a sign for Jerrica to go on. "I got as far as cutting myself no worse than a couple of paper cuts and started swearing a mile a minute since they hurt like hell, so I got a couple of band-aids, put 'em over the cuts, and forgot all about it," Jerrica continued, cracking up at the memory; the doctor laughed, too.

"I even remember thinking, 'Fuck this, suicide is more painful than actually staying alive'," Jerrica added, still laughing. With a chuckle, the doctor asked, "Did your sister ever notice the scars on your wrists – if the cuts you made were big enough to leave scars?"

"I don't think she ever did – at least, not to my knowledge," Jerrica told her. "She was pretty wrapped up in her own grief over Dad at the time, and by the time she probably would've noticed, the scars were pretty much gone."

"I see," the doctor replied. "How old were you at the time?"

Jerrica thought for a moment. "I must've been eighteen or nineteen at the time…maybe twenty? I dunno, somewhere in there."

When Summer saw Jerrica after coming for a visit sometime after lunch, she took off running down the hall to meet her; they greeted each-other with hugs and then sat down at a table near the window. "Have you met Greg?" she asked the girl.

"No, I don't think I have," Summer answered, curious.

"I met Greg while I was in here," Jerrica explained. "Hey, Greg!" Summer looked over to see an older man getting up from one of the nearby tables and coming over to where the two of them were sitting; Jerrica and Summer got up as the man approached them. "Greg, I'd like to introduce you to my 'apprentice', if you will, Summer Bowen. Summer, this is my friend Greg," Jerrica introduced.

"Nice to meet you," he told Summer as they shook hands; smiling, Summer answered, "Nice to meet you, too."

"Greg's a musician, as well," Jerrica added.

"Oh, I don't know if I'd go that far!" Greg beamed, clearly pleased with the compliment.

"You're definitely a musician, trust me," Jerrica teased.

"Really? You are?" Summer asked.

"No, I'm not a musician!"

"Come on, music is in your soul," Jerrica insisted. "Think you'd mind…I don't wanna put you on the spot or anything, but…how about that one you did yesterday?"

With a shrug, Greg obligingly began singing a song Summer had never heard before; she couldn't tell what language it was in, but it sounded fantastic. When he stopped after a few lines, Summer asked, "What's the song called? I don't recognize the language, but I really liked it!"

"Glad to hear it," Greg smiled. "It's a Yiddish song for children; it's called 'Oyfn pripetchik'."

"It's beautiful," Summer replied.

"Thanks. I really like your music, too; Jerrica's played some of your songs for me!"

Summer looked bashfully down at her feet. "Aww, thank you!"

"I'm gonna get going; I'll see you later, alright, Jerrica?"

"Sounds good. See you later, Greg."

"Alright; nice meeting you, Summer," Greg answered. With that, he turned and walked away down the hall.

After Greg had left, the two of them sat back down, and Jerrica told Summer more about her life in rehab. "I've been swimming a lot lately," she told the girl, nodding towards the pool outside the window. "I actually went out for a swim this morning, just a little while after breakfast."

"That's good, glad to hear it," Summer smiled; looking out the window, she added, "It's a nice big pool, too; also love the gardens around it and everything."

"Yeah, it's really nice. How's Ollie doing?"

"Oh, Ollie is by far the least cat-like cat I've ever seen!" Summer said with a laugh. "He's always so sweet with me, and he'll often walk by your room to look for you or just sit by the front door like this…" She demonstrated with her hands and a puppy-eyed look. "He really looks like a dog when he does that, just waiting for his mom to come home."

"He won't have to wait much longer, that'll be next month," Jerrica grinned.

"You are gonna come back, right?"

Jerrica stared at Summer. "What do you mean?"

"You're gonna come back to the mansion when you're done here, aren't you?"

"Do you not want me to or something, kid?"

It had been so long since Jerrica had called Summer "kid" that at this point, she was almost glad to hear it. "No, I do want you to come back – of course I do, you're my friend; I just thought –"

"Where else would I go?"

"I dunno, I just thought…I dunno, it's like, there's 'Jerrica', and then –"

"Hold on a minute, kid," Jerrica interrupted. "Why would you say that?"

Summer shrugged helplessly. "I don't really know; I guess…I just wondered, like, without the booze, if you'd still want to come home. 'Cause, I mean, you were drinking when you first started helping me, and now you're not."

"I wasn't drunk the whole time I was helping you," Jerrica pointed out.

"I know. But it got pretty bad sometimes. I mean, I'm okay, it's fine, really – I…" Summer sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked; I just haven't been sleeping a lot 'cause I've been preparing for my upcoming tour so much."

"Tour?"

"Yeah, I've been performing some concerts here in LA, but I'm going on tour all around the States in a couple months – kinda like my debut tour, Devon says. To promote my Just by Chance album and whatever. I told you about my tour plans, remember?"

"Right – that's right; I remember you telling me that now."

"Yeah, I…I seriously need coffee, though, it was kind of a stupid question," Summer laughed. After a moment's pause, she added, "Oh, I just remembered something!" Bending down, she reached into her bag and pulled out a sheet of paper with some song lyrics scribbled on it; passing it to Jerrica, Summer explained, "I wanna know what this is, this 'When the Spotlight's Moving On' thing – a new song you're working on?"

"Kind of, but I don't know if I'll ever produce it as a single or whatever," Jerrica admitted. "I was feelin' kinda blue about not being so mainstream anymore a while back, so I just started puttin' some lyric ideas down to paper."

Summer eyed the paper questioningly. "This style seems more like something I would write."

Jerrica shrugged. "I may or may not have gotten some inspiration from listening to your music," she admitted.

Summer stared incredulously at Jerrica. "…Okay, that might be some of the highest praise you've ever given me: Jerrica Benton being inspired by my songwriting style?!"

"I haven't really been able to connect any of the verse ideas or anything, they're all still kind of a mess," Jerrica told her. "I thought maybe if you ever found it, you could use it as some kind of inspiration, either now or off in the future, I don't fucking know…"

Summer stared down at the sheet, not knowing what to say. All she came up with after a long pause was, "…Well, I found it."

Jerrica looked down at the table, hesitating for a few beats before she went on rather huskily, "Listen – I, um…" She stopped again, running a hand over her face and looking like she was trying to pull herself together. Without looking up, she finally finished, "…Kid, I'm sorry." And to Summer's slight astonishment, Jerrica actually broke down in tears.

"It's okay," Summer said simply, reaching over to pull Jerrica's hand away from her face. She felt a little awkward, since she'd never really known how to properly handle other people crying. "It's okay, it's not your fault."

"I'm so sorry I did that…"

"It's okay, it's not your fault; you were drunk, people do all kinds of shit when they're drunk."

"No, but I embarrassed you," Jerrica sobbed quietly. "I really embarrassed you, and I…"

"You didn't embarrass me," Summer assured her. Okay, so that wasn't entirely true, but at least it was a white lie.

"It was just so wrong – and then your dad…"

"He was just stressed out and upset; he didn't mean it like that, it's okay."

"I know, but I…"

"It's okay."