“What the hell is wrong with you Alex?!” Jack asked. “I-I don’t know, man,” I said. “I just don’t know.” Those were the last words I spoke before I slipped into the darkness.
“Alex. Alex. ALEX WAKE THE FUCK UP!” I heard my manager scream. “What the fuck is it?” I mumbled, irritated and still tired. “You have a photoshoot and an interview in like 10 minutes and you’re not even out of bed yet!” he said angrily as he pulled the covers off of me. The bright, July sunlight streaked across my face and crept its way into my eyelids. “Alright I’m up!” I said sassily. I fucking hated being woken up. “You’ve got 5 minutes,” he said as he walked out of my room. “You’ve got 5 minutes,” I said in a high pitched voice, mocking him. I rolled out of bed and sulked over to my suitcase. I put on my favourite pair of blue skinny jeans and black converse. “I think you’ll be needing this,” said a very familiar voice. I whipped around and saw a man standing about 6’ tall with brown, puppy-dog eyes and dark brown, moderately short hair with a few twinges of blonde, wearing a black T-shirt that had BONER written across it in red lettering, faded black skinnies, and old black converse. He was holding out a GLAMOUR KILLS shirt. “Thanks Jack,” I said as I took the shirt. “Wait, how’d you get this?” I asked, specifically remembering it being in my suitcase. “You sort of left it on stage last night,” he said. “Oh,” I said. I must’ve been plastered. I used to be moderately sober during our sets, but lately I’ve just been drinking like a camel. I slipped it on and looked in the mirror. The outfit looked alright, but my hair was absolutely dreadful. “I think you’ll be needing this, too,” Jack said as he tossed a hair brush my way. I nodded as thanks as I brushed it out. It still looked pretty bad, but it was going to have to do. “I think we better get going before our manager gets his panties in a wad,” Jack said. I chuckled. I grabbed some sunglasses on the way out of the bus. As we stepped out into the midday sunlight, I realized how bad of a hangover is had. The glasses didn’t even help much. “So where is this photoshoot/interview thingy anyway?” I asked Jack as we walked the streets of Cleveland. “Well, the photoshoot is at that building, and the interview is right after our set at the Kia Rio stage at Blossom,” he said matter-of-factly. “Oh,” I said, trying to sound interested, but truth is, I was zoning out big time. We walked into a towering, brick building. We weren’t in the door for 2 seconds before we were being dragged by our wrists to a little room with the usual green screen backdrop. Rian and Zac were ready and waiting to do the shoot. I sighed. “Let’s get this over with,” I mumbled to Jack. He gave me an apologetic look.
“Alexander William Gaskarth I cannot believe you were late to that photoshoot. You have no idea how disappointed I am in you,” the manager droned on. This always happened. If I had a dime for every time he said my full name and told me he’s disappointed, I could quit the band and still not have to work a day in my life. “Listen, if I tell you I’m sorry, will you stop talking?” I asked. I didn’t like being a brat, but I absolutely hated being nagged at. “I’m done. If you aren’t going to take this band seriously, you can find yourself a new manager,” he said solemnly as he turned and walked off of the bus. “Fine. I don’t need you anyway!” I yelled after him. I grabbed my glasses and left the bus. “Alex, wait-“ Jack began, but I slammed the door shut behind me. I didn’t have anywhere to go, but I didn’t want to stay on the bus. I pulled out a cigarette and lit up. I deeply inhaled, tasting the sweet smoke of my eminent demise. I never used to smoke, but lately, the alcohol just isn’t cutting it. “Self destruction at its finest,” Jack said. Usually he would say things like this as a joke, but this time, not even a vestige of a smile crossed his lips. I chuckled darkly. “I’ve been worried about you lately, Alex,” Jack said as his stare tore away from my eyes and landed on the ground. “You’ve been…different. You do things the Alex I know wouldn’t,” he said. “All of this because I’ve picked up the habit of smoking, Jack? Come on,” I said, trying to put his mind to ease. He frowned. “It’s not the smoking. It’s just that you’ve been acting…strange. I can’t explain it,” he said. He finally looked back up into my eyes. The threat of tears teetered on the edge of his eyes. He blinked them away quickly. I put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m still the same old Alex, Jack. I’m still me,” I said as sincerely as I could. He forced a sad smile. “Alright, but please tell me if something’s happening,” he said in an almost pleading tone. “I promise,” I lied. I could never burden Jack with my petty little problems. I inhaled another puff of smoke and exhaled it slowly into the sky. The bus door opened quickly. “To the stage in 20,” Rian said. “Put on the happy face for the set, Alex,” I thought.
