Unexpected

Weary.

It had been three months. Three months and Ville had been on the road with the band for the past two. Or so he thought. The alcohol blurred the days until they all melded into each other.

He got on the plane that dark, autumn night and didn't look back. He was completely numbed by the last conversation he and Klara had. His bandmates and friends dealt with his drinking on tour for the first month. After all they were doing the same, but they all realized simultaneously that Ville was seriously spiralling.

Ville cracked his eyes open and winced at the stream of sunlight that hit his eyes, making his head pound. He tried to roll over but he realized there was a warm weight resting on his arm. He glanced over to see a naked figure and a head of bleached blonde hair laying on his arm. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to remember the events of last night when he remembered the leggy blonde that had been making eyes at him backstage after the show.

She began to stir when he tried to slowly pull his arm out from underneath her.

"Good morning." She said in a sleepy voice.

"Morning." Ville muttered with his back to her as he stood slowly and stretched.

Ville stumbled to the bathroom for the asprin. He finally managed to find the bottle and shook 3 into his mouth, scooping water from the faucet to wash them down. He leaned his weight onto his outstretched arms that rested on the counter.

He slowly lifted his head to look at his reflection. His skin was ashen, his dark hair was past his chin and a tangled mess. He had the remnants of eyeliner smeared around his bloodshot eyes.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't know what he was going to say to the woman in his bed when he went back into the room. To his relief she was already gone by the time he came back out. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

When he glanced over to the desk he saw the evidence of the previous night's debauchery. Two little white, powdery lines sat next to an empty champagne bottle and a rolled up dollar bill. He sighed and fell back onto the bed.

He thought about Klara. He knew it didn't matter what he did anymore but he couldn't help but feel guilt washing over him. It came in waves day after day. Every time he snorted a random substance or buried his dick into a stranger.

She had been updating him on the health of the baby and let him know that she had made the move to Washington. The emails were very cold and straight to the point. That bothered him more than anything. She was the mother of his child and they couldn't even have a normal conversation anymore. The last email he received was a week before to tell him that she was giving him a son, along with the ultrasound picture.

He cried. Harder than he had in a long time. He wished he could have been there. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around being a father much less not being with the mother.

He figured he must have dozed off while thinking when the sudden banging on his hotel room door started.

"Ville, c'mon! We're late!" Mige yelled through the door.

Ville hopped off of the bed and pulled on a bunched up pair of jeans that were on the floor and the cleanest looking shirt he could find. He tugged a beanie on his head and shoved his wallet in his back pocket while trying to open the door. Mige had an annoyed look on his face that switched to borderline anger when he glanced over Ville's shoulder into the room and noticed the coke in plain sight on the table.

"Are you fucking serious, Ville?" Mige spat.

"I know, I know. Let's just fucking go." Ville replied, rolling his eyes.

The set went well for how hungover Ville was. Everyone was on point and the crowd ate it up. Ville decided halfway through the set to pull his shirt off and wipe the sweat off of his face with. He didn't give a fuck when a couple of girls threw their bras on stage in reply. He was tired of it all. He loved what he did but he kept letting himself get pulled into the same vicious cycle of the lifestyle over and over.

"I need rehab, Mige." Ville blurted out backstage. "I can't keep going on this way."

"If that's what you think you need to do, mate." Mige replied, "We only have a week left and then you're free to go for however long you think you need. I'm just glad your coming to your sense before you knock someone else up."

Ville sat in silence. Mige's comment threw him into a pit of guilt he had been avoiding. Of course he was always safe when he was with the randoms, Klara was the only one he never worried with. He couldn't shake the hollow pit that had been forming in his stomach.

He hadn't had a drink all day and his emotions were catching up with him. He began to shake when he realized how long it had been since he had actually seen her. He wanted to go and find her when the tour was over but he wasn't in the best shape to do so. He didn't want her to know how hard he had spiralled, again.

The band finished out the tour while Ville tried to keep himself together and he finally got to go home. He hadn't touched a drop of liquor after the conversation he had with Mige. It hurt him to see how little faith his own best friend had in him. His words had stung but he needed to hear them.

He dropped his bags by his door and kicked off his shoes. He collapsed face first on the couch when his phone dinged to alert him of a new email from his back pocket. He knew who it was from before be unlocked his phone and his heart was in his throat.

Klara was 6 months along and she was sending him an update from her appointment that same day. The baby already noticeably looked like Ville she pointed out in the ultrasound pictures and she sent him a video of him kicking inside of her belly. Ville sat cross legged on his sofa and it felt like it was finally setting in that this was happening.

That was his child.

He wanted to go to them, but instead of making rash decisions like he always had, he decided to sleep on it. He hopped in the shower to clean what remained of the tour off of his skin before he got into bed. When he got out of the shower he could hear his phone ringing. He scrambled to find it realizing it was still in the back pocket of his jeans.

To his surprise, it was Klara.

"Hello?" Ville asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Ville." Klara stammered, "I can't do this without you."