FicWad

Authors note at the bottom.
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I woke up feeling like pure hell. My head felt like someone was beating it with a goddamn sledge hammer. This is the part I have grown to hate, the hangovers. I sure hope we still have some aspirin left. Ugh…
The minute I get into the bathroom and see the toilet my stomach decides it wants to empty. Joy. This has got to stop. Maybe I do need to cut back a little. Drink a little less, maybe stop with the pills and the coke.

Meanwhile outside of the bus….

“Yeah mom it is getting worse everyday. He won’t listen to anyone he thinks he’s fine and has it under control, but that is so far off. I don’t know how to help him mom.”
“The only thing you can really do Mikey, is just be there when he comes around. You cant keep pushing him or he will just get worse than he is now. If it honestly gets that bad, you should talk to Brian. He knows what is going on, maybe he can schedule a break so Gee can go to rehab?”
“Maybe. “
“I gotta go sweetie. Get ahold of me later if you want. Love you.”
“okay. Love you too mom.”

After I was done hurling, I decided to take a few pills and go drink some beer. Maybe it will get rid of this damn headache.

When I go to grab a beer a hand appears over top of mine as to stop me. I look up and see Mikey standing there.

“Gee, its only eleven in the morning. Do you really have to start drinking already?”
“Relax Mikey I’m only having one.”

He sighs and walks away. What the hell is his problem? I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary. I always have a beer when I wake up. I don’t get it. I grab the beer and drain half of it in mere seconds. Is it sad that I drink it like its only water?

Time Lapse: Later on at the show.

This was probably one of the worst shows we have done…well my worst anyway. The guys did great. But me, my voice was so off. I couldn’t hit my pitches, I was slurring lyrics. I was horrible. Once again once of stage I hurled my guts up. It’s like a vicious cycle that I’ll never get out of. I look up from the trash can when I’m done and see the looks of worry and pity on my band mates faces.

Once back on the bus and everyone is asleep, I drink some more and do my drugs. About an hour later I’m fucked out of my mind and I start thinking. Maybe I should off myself. The guys would be better off without me anyways. At that point I really want someone to talk to, so I call Brian.

“Gee? Its five in the morning. Are you okay?”
“Not really.” I slurr.
“What’s up?”
“Brian, I think I really do have a problem…and I’m so fucked up right now. I’m drunk, I took some pills…and I’ve been doing coke. And right now, I just really wanna die.” I tell him breaking down.
“Coke? Oh man dude. That’s some hardcore shit there. Are you alone right now?”
“I’m sitting outside of the bus right now.”
“Why don’t you wake one of the guys up? Get them to sit and talk for awhile? You can talk about how you think you have a problem and what can be done about it?”
“I…I don’t want to bother them. I probably shouldn’t of bothered you even. I’m sorry…”
“No, Gee, it’s okay. I can talk to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“yeah man, I wanna help.”

About two hours later Brian had convinced me to wake up Jerry, our tour manager. We went for a walk and talked a little bit. I don’t even remember going back to the bus and passing out, but I did.



*Authors Note: sorry bout the shortness in length of the chapters. i'm working on adding more detail to them. bare with me please. =]