17
Rehab. The luxury surrounds of Serenity Valley. A kind of reform school where burnt out stars are sent by their studios and record labels to get back in shape. The biggest star of 'em all sits up in bed. Pale, drawn, small in a pair of white pyjamas. He's sweating, squirming and puking it out. More cold turkey than the day after Christmas. But it's not too long before he's back on his feet again, shuffling around the clinic in his complimentary white dressing gown and slippers.
Of course, not only does Josh have to go through rehab—so do I.
For his protection. And maybe just so he's not the only one suffering.
I've got a room down the corridor from his. Not as big or fancy. Just a box with a bed, a tiny window that looks out onto the car park.
But on the plus side, there are three
