Miles Away

Chapter 7 - The Wrong Impression

Chapter 7
Jagger
The Wrong Impression

I sulked back to the backstage room where my band mates were packing up and slumped myself against the couch. The seemingly triggering buzz was almost invisible after the rejection I’d just received. I wasn’t used to be pushed away like this. Girls were usually pulling me forward, by the hem of my shirt no less. I knew this situation was different, because it didn’t just involve sex anymore. This involved something so much bigger than that.

Something I was afraid of even admitting to myself.

“What’s wrong, bro?” Carson asked, messing with his sweaty hair in the dirty mirror.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” I groaned, running agitated hands through my hair.

“The girl?” he asked, like he already knew what happened outside. “Stop sulking. She’ll probably come back.”

“I doubt it,” I winced, reaching for the vodka bottle in front of me. It left a skinny wet ring on the polished wood, the heat from the room making the bottle sweat. I pulled at the collar of my button up, snapping a button off with my finger.

“Maybe if you stopped drowning all of your problems in alcohol, there wouldn’t be such an issue,” he snapped, turning from the mirror to look me dead in the eye.

I raised an eyebrow quizzically. “What?”

Carson always played the father of the group, acting like he was the only grown up in the room. Granted, there were times when we need a guy like him to calm things down, or bring things under control. But I already had a man to answer to my whole life, and now that I was gone from that place, I didn’t need another one breathing down my back.

“At first, I thought you only did it because you liked to get out of your own head for a while. I got that. But now, it’s becoming an everyday thing and quite frankly, I’m tired of dealing with your shit to clean up afterwards,” he simply stated, crossing his arms across his chest.

Matty was out packing up the van, Wyatt and Charlee were off somewhere probably accomplishing dirty deeds, and Ella had run off on me. Therefore, it was only Carson and I in a one on one stand off in the room. If I knew my balance wouldn’t have been thrown off when I stood from the couch, I would have gotten up and punched him clear in the face. But, I was a little wobbly and a little fuzzy so I wasn’t going to risk looking like a fool.

But that didn’t mean that I couldn’t have a few choice words with him myself.

“Why are you being such a dick,” I seethed, sipping from the clear bottle. The liquid burned my throat slightly as it ran down, almost like a signal for me to put it down, quit while I was ahead.

Before I could blink, Carson had snatched the bottle from my hand, ripping it from my fingers. I sat dumbfounded, taking a few seconds to realize what had just happened. When my eyes met the bottle, my bottle, in his hands, I sent him a death glare.

“I’m doing this for your own good,” he said, walking over to the bathroom door and throwing it open. It hit the wall with a loud thud, as I followed him inside. He quickly turned the bottle over and poured the clear contents down the drain of the sink, the final drip hitting the drain with finality.

“What the fuck, Carson!” I yelled, staring down at the drain like I could force it back up somehow with my eyes. I didn’t have the money on me to purchase another bottle and the buzz I was feeling wasn’t enough for the amount of shit I was going through right now.

“I’m done dealing with this, Jag,” he scoffed, placing the bottle on the sink’s edge. “This isn’t you. And I won’t just sit back and watch you throw everything away before it’s even started.”