Rockstar

You awake in a hotel room, hung over, no shirt, a pizza box with a cocaine crumbs scattered about it and some lyrics on it. The Television is laying on the carpet along with blood stains and Jack Daniel bottles.
The phone rings. You immediatley pick it up to hear the voice of your manager. "Okay, enough fuckin around. You got to be on stage in Chicago in eight hours. The bus leaves in 30. Get your ass up. We're in the lobby." You hear the click of the phone as he hangs up. You slowly manage to get up and look around. Time to go.