Love is the drug

Chapter 1: Vitality

The harsh September air was cold on my face, ruffling my hair up to an even messier state than usual. I didn't care, It didn't matter. I sighed, taking another drag of my cigarette. I knew what was coming. I knew. What could you even expect from a young rockstar. Fame at the age of 19 isn't normal, it changes a person. Although some people would kill for this, I don't see what the hype's all about. Sure, any girl, and occasionally guys, would pay to fuck you, and you are practically drowning in money, but it's not that amazing. It's terrifying.

I finished my cigarette and let it drop to the ground, stamping on it absentmindedly. I wasn't even old enough to smoke yet, but that didn't matter because I was famous, I got special treatment. I glanced up at the shiny black tour bus looming in front of me, looking particularly daunting in the evening light. It was completely irrational to be afraid of a bus, but that didn't stop me from flinching away from it as the door swung open.

"Ryan, get your fucking ass on this buss now before I leave without you." Spencer called menacingly. He couldn't leave without me. He wouldn't have a band without me. I stumbled over and reluctantly stepped into the "house on wheels" as Jon called it. Not because spencer told me to. Because I wanted to. I wasn't about to take orders from anyone.

People pretend the concept of being in a band is that everyone is equal. It's not though, not really. Lead singers get more attention, it's blatantly obvious. Spencer, Pete and Jon, although they were my good friends, were disposable to the public eye. Almost anyone could play instruments these days.

We finally arrived at the venue we were playing at, and I stepped out of the tour bus. There were no crazed fans here yet, only the damp autumn air greeted me as I wandered over to the back door. It was around 5:30 in the afternoon, and the sun was slowly but surely sinking under the hills in the distance. It was peaceful here without hundreds of kids screaming my name. They would show up soon though, but I wouldn't go out and sign autographs and I wouldn't go and pose for pictures like they desperately wanted me to. I would drink my whiskey like I do before every show. I don't live to please, after all.

"Ryan, we're starting sound check now so you need to be on side stage." A kid with blonde hair murmured awkwardly. One of our new roadies, no doubt. I don't reply, just make my way over to what I assumed was side stage. Spencer, Jon and Pete were grinning at me.

"What?" I sighed.

"First show man! It's gonna be great." Pete exclaimed a little too loudly.

"Oh... It's not our first show, we had that one back in Vegas." A pained smile crossed my face briefly. I remember that night vividly, i threw up before hand and had to talk myself to going on stage. So not much has changed.

"Yeah but we weren't signed back then, that didn't count. This time it's official and people are paying to see us." Pete said, his cheerful demeanour dissolving slightly because I didn't share his enthusiasm. It's not my fault I have stage fright, it's really not. It's also not my fault I haven't told my band about it. They couldn't tell the reason I wasn't excited was because I felt like I was going to throw up, they thought I was just a dick who let the fame get to his head. Like I said, not my fault.

The sound check went surprisingly well, considering I didn't faint, although the sick feeling still lingered.

"Ryan, man, that was awesome." Jon grinned, clapping me on the back. I forced a smile at him as a roadie walked past and exchanged my Gibson guitar for a whiskey. I took it gratefully and downed the amber liquid in seconds, enjoying the burn it left in my throat.

My band was already successful, after releasing our first album Phases 6 months ago, we hit number 3 on the top charts almost over night. And now we were touring. I glanced at the shiny tour pass around my neck, and my stomach twisted into knots. In less than an hour, I would have to perform on stage. In front of people.

Fuck.

***

I snapped out of my thoughts as another roadie walked over.
"The support act just finished, you're about to go on." He smiled. I nodded stiffly, handing him the empty glass and walking over to my band. They all seemed exctatic. I felt so out of place. People busied around me straightening my shirt or spraying my hair with some chemical substance and I just stood there, completely numb. This can't actually be happening can it?

"I can't do this." I panicked, taking a step back from the stage.

"Come on man it'll be fine." Spencer smiled.

How the hell did I manage get myself talked into this?!

"And you're on in 5, 4, 3, 2,1." and I was pushed onto stage. The crowd erupted in screams. I- fuck I couldn't do this. I reached for the microphone with sweaty hands, bringing it up to my face.

"H-hi Denver." I managed to choke out.

"We're Weeks By Weeks and this is Broken Glass."

And then we were playing on stage.

*•*•*•*

I grasped the bottle of pills, desperately pouring some into my sweaty palm. This was the only way I could deal with touring. The only way I could survive the shows we played every night. Drugs and booze. After the first show everything fell into place. Before every performance I drink excessive amounts of alcohol and take pills and that's what keeps me from fainting. Being drunk and high for every show turned out well. Sure it's not the best method, but it's working alright.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, and I hurriedly shoved the bottle of pills in my pocket.

"Ryan, man, the support acts about to finish, and they're damn good so far," Spencer babbled excitedly. "So I maybe thought you would want to see the last song?"

"Uh yeah, sure." I stood up and followed him to the dressing room. A group of boys about my age stood on stage, sweating but beaming at the crowd. They all looked pretty stoked as the singer leaned into his microphone.

"This is the last song we'll be playing tonight." he panted, flicking his dark, sweaty hair out of his eyes. And then they started playing. And Spencer was right, they were damn good. The song was sort of long, 6 minutes or something but I listened to every word, every guitar lick, every drum beat. The audience erupted in cheers at the end, a few crazed fans screaming extra loud. And I couldn't help but applaud too as the band filed off stage, clapping each other on the back and grinning at one another while putting away their instruments. I gazed at the singer for a while, observing the way his arm muscles showed when he picked up his guitar case or the way he flicked his still damp hair from his chocolate brown eyes.

"So what did you think?" Spencer chimed in from behind me, and I remembered what I was doing, snapping out of my daze.
"They were pretty good actually, I enjoyed it. Are they playing with us for the whole tour?"
"Yeah I think so. At least I hope so, they seem like cool guys."
"Yeah," I trailed off, glancing over at them again, as if I would be able to see the cool vibe radiating off them.
"We should say hi then, if were gonna be touring with them for two months." I finished, already making my way over to the dark haired boy.

"Hey." I smiled, shoving my hands in my pockets.
"Hey." He grinned back.
"I uh.. I liked that song you played at the end." I murmured awkwardly.
"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you. I love your music."
"Thanks man, likewise. So I heard you're supporting us for the whole tour?"
"Yeah, me and the guys are pretty excited for it." He gestured to the other band members, who were now talking to Spencer.
"I'm Ryan, by the way."He probably already knew that though.
"I know. I'm Brendon."
"Well, Brendon, I have to go, but I'll catch you around." I smiled, walking over to the rest of my band.
"Later, Ryan." He called after me, grinning.

I think I'm going to get along well with Brendon.