Ashley looked into Spencer’s blurring gray eyes and smiled. “So beautiful.” She murmured before the room began to spin. She felt dizzy. Too dizzy to be awake. To be alive.

Everything went black.

*~*~*~*~*

“Ashley, wake up please.” Spencer spoke softly.

The words sounded muffled in her cloudy mind but she still knew who the voice belonged to. Ashley slowly opened her eyes and winced at the brightness of the room. After blinking a few times, everything came into focus and she was met with her father’s angry brown eyes. Ashley moved her gaze over to Spencer’s tear stained face and watched with a puzzled expression as more tears started to build up in her puffy gray eyes. “Where the hell am I?” She whispered and felt a warm hand cover her own. She didn’t have to look to know it was Glen’s.

“Calm down,” He said softly. “You passed out.”

Ashley covered her eyes with her forearm. “Ah fuck me.” She groaned, knowing it would be big news on TV and in magazines. Like the last time she passed out. “Where are my fucking glasses?” She demanded, hating the lighting in the room. God I need another line.

“Here.” A soft voice responded while offering her the dark glasses.

Ashley removed her forearm and looked into Spencer’s sad eyes. “Thank you.” She said softly, all her anger instantly drained away at seeing the upset base player. “How long was I out?” She asked while sitting up. After Putting on her glasses, she looked around and realized she was lying in her bedroom’s bed. Pops never got a hotel when they were staying in LA. He had a really big house that easily accommodated all of the band and staff members.

“5 hours.” Pops snapped back as he stood up. Ashley stared at the man with a frown. He stood in the middle of the large bedroom, staring down at her with a scowl. “You’re real lucky kid. If I hadn’t sent Roscoe out to get you and Princess, I’m sure the media would have found you first and this band does not need that kind of publicity right now.”