Don't Stop [ Punk A. I. ]

(1) Mistake

"Quinn, you should really quit, while you're ahead." Luke's voice warned, taking the pint I was holding tightly in my grasp. I shook my head, and reached over the long table, desperately trying to reunite myself with my glorious beer, but he pulled it out of my reach.

"Oh, you don't know how to have fun, you fucking prude." I slurred, my vowels falling out of my mouth as if they were laced together by rope. But, I refused to admit I was drunk, because I knew I wasn't. I have gotten drunk many times before, and this isn't terrible. I tried to stand up, and march over to the sad little 19 year old, to grab the drink from his grubby little fingers, but my feet weren't cooperating. So, I supported myself along the edge of the table, as I helplessly watched Luke dump my drink down the drain, shaking his head, as if he were to be disappointed in me.

"Aye, what're you doing, you dickhead?" I sputtered, lunging at him, but my vision was blurring in and out, and swinging from side to side, like the bottom half of a circle. I fell to the floor, as I shook my head, and heard the last of my glorious pint wash away, down the sink. Luke groaned, after stepping over the broken wine bottle which was to my right, and helped me stand up, by placing one gentle hand underneath my upper arms, and dragged me back to the table.

"Saving you, from drinking yourself to death." He shot back, at me, and I could practically feel the fury radiating off of him. I watched him make it to the far end of the table, before I reached into the side table next to me, and pulled out the tequila bottle, which was strictly saved for alone times, when I get home from work. I placed it on the table, and poured myself a shot, watching my timing. Then, when he finally noticed, he lunged over, but I already tilted the glass up, and felt the friendly burn of the alcohol hiss down my throat.

Luke would never understand. I needed to drink. I needed to forget everything. Anything, that reminded me of that accident. I wanted to forget all about my shoulder pain, and all about the stitches I had, over my right eyebrow. I wanted to forget all the pain medication I needed to take, twice a day, for the bruised ribs. Forget everything, put it all behind me.

I shuttered, as I put the glass down, and then poured myself another glass, my inhibitions long gone, from my control. I wasn't fast enough to retrieve my second shot, since Luke snatched it from my grasp, and held it between his shaky fingers. His blonde hair was tousled, after running his finger through it too many times, and his blue eyes were like the blue flame, at the center of the scorching heat. That's exactly what his eyes looked like. His eyes were ablaze, and he wasn't a happy camper.

"Luke give it back." I said, getting annoyed, as I watched him dangle my alcohol between his forefinger and thumb. He shook his head, tauntingly, and stepped closer to the drain. His lips were pulled into a tight line, but they parted just slightly, to allow his pink tongue to wet them briefly, then shook his head, once again. If he shook his head anymore, it'll fall off.

"No, I won't. You're killing yourself, Q. You're how old? 19? You have so much to live for, yet you're wasting your precious life away." He exclaimed, the veins in his neck popping out, as I felt the words cut straight to my heart. I was going to throw in a snarky comment, about he was doing the same thing with the cigarettes, but I knew I would be pushing my luck.

"May you please give it back?"

"Haha, very funny. No." He said, and I growled, through clenched teeth, before I stood up, yet again, but my knees grew weak, and my body fell heavy back into its seat. It wasn't cooperating with me, and it was becoming a problem.

"No, Luke I'm serious." I said, attempting to stand up, once again, but gripped the edge of the table as I said so. "You wouldn't understand-" before I could get another word out, the 19 year-old Aussie knocked back my drink, without a second thought. I watched in complete awe, as he slammed the glass on the marble tabletop, and squeeze his eyes shut, and shudder, the tequila obviously taking a tole on him. He coughed, and then opened his eyes, to scan my shocked expression, and I shook my head. All I felt was empty. Through countless rounds of beers, and shots, I knew there was no way I was going to get rid of this pit which sits in the middle of my stomach.

"Why--"

"You're not gonna do this to yourself. Cal won't let you, I won't let you, and even Jesus Christ knows Michael's not going to let you." Luke said cutting me off mid sentence, baring his teeth in anger, as he spat words at me, without a care. I knew what he was doing. He was naming all the important people in my life, but avoiding the most invaluable. I laughed coldly, and shook my head, before becoming serious, and clearing my throat. I was going to do it. I'm going to throw him in there, knowing if I do, Luke will leave me to my liking.

"What about Ash? Why not him? He seemed like he was alright with it, since he was the one who handed me the drink without a second thought. He doesn't care." I said, spitting the words, at Luke, and watching, as his face contorted in pain, and fear, all at one. I knew I was going a good job, so I kept going. "He doesn't care, Luke. He could watch me burn alive, and he would shrug it off. He was the one, to get me hooked back on this drinking, and honestly, I don't think I ever want to stop." I said, and took the tequila bottle, and threw the glass top off, hearing it shatter somewhere behind me, and drank from the bottle. Luke ran over, screaming in protest, but I held on, my eyes, tearing, as the alcohol began to burn at my throat and mouth. Eventually, since Luke is a strong boy, and he's a lot taller, and muscular than me, he won, the alcohol spilling all over my clothes, and my hair. I didn't even care at this point. Luke threw the glass onto the floor, and I screamed, the alcohol falling down my face, but I could really care less. I watched Luke shake his hands dry, and then Turned to me, his eyes glossing over, signaling that I had gone too far.

"Yes, he did. You know fully well that he did care. Would you like to know why? Because that's exactly what he said, in the god damn letter, in his room, inside his drawer, by his bed. Do you want to know why I know where that is? Because the police had the place searched. For heroine." Luke spat, and I cringed, at the word heroine. It had ruined so many peoples lives, just like it had ruined our own. We never did it, if that's what you're asking, but we both know who does.

"I refuse to talk about that. Don't you dare bring that up." I pointed out, pointing my index finger right at Luke, standing up, and leaning all my weight on my left hand, which was on the table, seething with pure anger. Luke threw his hands, to the side, as if to say he didn't care, and shake his head, astonished.

"You brought up Ashton. That was entirely your fault." Luke said, and I shook my head, beginning to laugh just a little. He was not going to turn this all on me.

"Shut up. I'm not talking about this, I refuse. I am not going to talk about what the cops found." I seethed, through clenched teeth, and shook my head, crossing my arms, and pouting, in my chair. I watched. Luke tear his hands through his quiff, before pacing the floor, angrily. The , he turned to me, and then turned away, before stomping his foot, and screamed. Now, Luke is a small-spoken guy. He doesn't exactly say much, and he's not one to raise his voice. But, when he does, then you know you struck a chord.

"God, damn it Quinn! You always fucking do this. You do this, with absolutely everything, whenever you drink. If there's a subject that's brought up, and you don't want to talk about it, you pout, and throw a fucking tantrum. I don't want to talk about Ash, either. Especially after he got into the accident. The police wouldn't even be here, if he wasn't a fucking idiot, and did drugs! If he was going to fucking do them, he should've fucking done the natural stuff, not heroine. It's his fault. He shouldn't have over-dosed, and he should put have been drinking, either." He exploded, and I shot up, angry, and slapped him hard across the cheek.

"Don't you fucking call him an idiot, because we all know that he wasn't. He made mistakes in his life, and now he's learning from them. It is not his fault. It was mine, and we all know it. Don't turn this on him just because he was behind the wheel, and don't be throwing tantrums. I'm not going around, throwing hissy fits, even when something doesn't go my way. I don't want to hear that it's his fault, from you. I either want to hear it, from an attorney, or Ashton himself." I screamed right back, and I watched Luke's jaw harden, before he turned to me, to mutter the most hurtful thing I've ever heard Him say in the twelve years I've known the tall Blonde.

"If he wakes up, then I suppose."