Not Good Enough For Truth In Cliche

Sitting In This Room Playing Russian Roulette

honestly fuck historical accuracy I'm so sorry

"Babe, I gotta tell you something." Craig looked at me.
"We're going on tour." Max said.
"In two weeks." Robert added.
I sighed. "Seriously?"
"New album equals tour. I'm sorry, I was about to tell you, but these assholes beat me to it."
"It's okay." I looked down. "How long?"
"Four months."
"Oh. Okay."
"You've been on tour before, wanna come with?"
"I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" Craig asked. The rest of the band had left the room.
"It's... Just not a good idea."

*flashback*

"Hey, hey, you okay?"
I nodded. "I'm fine, Ronnie."
"You just threw up in the bathroom, what's up?"
"Stress from tour. I wasn't meant for this."
"Shit. We can end it, it's-"
"Hell no. There's fans, and... I'm fine, just give me five minutes."
Ronnie sat next to me on the couch. "I can get you stuff. Medicine, drugs-"
"Oh, God, yes please. Opiate?"
"Max has a stash." Ronnie got up and retrieved a couple white pills. "You gonna snort them?"
"Yes." I quickly crushed them and curled up a Post-it note to snort the powder. "Thank God for you, Ronnie. And for Max's stash of absolutely anything and everything."
"You okay now?"
"Gimme a couple minutes, let the pills kick in. I'll be fine, Ronnie, you don't have to worry about me."
"You sure?" He felt my forehead for a temperature.
"I'm fine, but thanks for the concern."

"Babe?" Craig asked.
"Oh, it's just that I get physically sick. It's bad."
"You could still come with, take drugs and-"
"Yeah, I guess. I could. I dunno, I don't want to get sick."
"How bad was it?"
"Throwing up multiple times a day, could barely stay awake but I couldn't sleep. God, I was on so many drugs that it was a blur, I barely remember tour."
"We could get you prescription-"
"They won't let me, I went to rehab."
"Oh. Right. Alcohol?"
"Throwing up?"
"Oh. I don't want you to stay back, I want you to come with."
"I don't think I can, Craig."
He sighed and cuddled up to me. "Serious?"
"I'm sorry, babe."
"I know, it's not good for you. But I can't stand not seeing you for four months."
"I know. I don't want to leave you, either."
"Yeah. This sucks."
"Yeah."
We sat in silence for a few minutes until I couldn't stand the sad awkwardness. "How many cities?"
"I don't even know. For sure, we're hitting LA, Vegas, San Fransisco, Portland, New Mexico, Phoenix, Houston, Chicago, Indianapolis, Minneapolis, Milwaukee, Richmond, New York, and Miami. Probably hitting more, we might be going out of country, but..."
"Those wouldn't last for months. That's barely two."
"Yeah. Probably going to the UK or something. I don't really know."
I leaned my head on his shoulder and pulled my knees up to my chest. "I don't want to leave you."
Craig wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. "I don't either. But I gotta. I still have to prove myself to the guys, kinda, and..."
"I get it. I'm dating a rockstar, for God's sake. I know what I'm deep into."
"You sure?"
I nodded. "Yeah."
"I'm not leaving your side for the next two weeks."
"Even when I go to shower and get dressed?"
"Of course, I'm gonna be right there."
"Fucking pervert." I laughed, inhaling his scent, trying to embed it into my memory.
"Why are you smelling me?"
"I don't want to forget how you smell, for when you go away."
"I won't be gone that long."
"Four months? You're missing Valentine's Day, you're missing stuff."
"I was here for your birthday."
"That was last month." I sighed. "Babe, I don't want you to leave, but I know you gotta."
"Yeah."
"Wanna go do something?"
"Like?"
"I dunno. Wander, and we can figure it out?"
"Okay."
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"Hey, babe." There was a soft voice shaking me awake in the dark room. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes."
"What time is it?"
"3:15 AM."
"Ugh. Where're you going? Craig, babe, it's so early?"
"Oh, you're still asleep. Well, come on." He pulled me out of his bed and into the living room.
"She awake?" Max asked.
"Not fully."
"Why are you guys having an orgy this early?" I whined.
"Babe," Craig took my arm. "We're going on tour, remember?"
"Oh, right." I shook my head.
Max handed me a Monster. "Wake up, come on."
I accepted it and and chugged the whole thing. "I don't want you all to leave."
"I'm gonna take the suitcases, make sure everything is there." Max grabbed a couple suitcases and went outside.
I looked at Craig. "I can't believe you're going."
"I'm sorry, babe, don't make me feel bad. We'll talk every damn day, I swear."
"Okay." I reached over and clutched his arms in a tight embrace.
"Ash, babe, it's okay." He pulled me up so I wasn't sliding down his body.
"I don't want you to leave."
"I know, I don't either."
"Craig." I whispered. "Craig Craig Craig Craig Craig Craig."
"What're you doing?"
"Trying to embed you."
"I won't be gone that long."
"Craig, I have no one. You guys are on tour, Ronnie's in prison."
He stared at me. "I know."
"What're you doing?"
"Memorizing your voice. Your scent." He hugged me.
"Craig, we gotta go!" Robert yelled from downstairs.
His hands cupped my cheeks and his lips slammed into mine. We stood like that for a minute, making out, memorizing each other. "Craig!" Omar yelled.
He broke apart from me. "Craig." I whispered.
He took off his hoodie. "Here. Take this, I'll be back soon. I swear."
"Bye, Craig." I bit my lip, feeling the lip ring between my teeth. I held the hoodie tight to my chest.
"Bye, Ash." He rushed off.
As soon as that door closed, tears fell from my eyes, hitting the floor. I was in my apartment, sure, but it felt so foreign without Craig. Sobs wracked my body as I fell to my knees. I was utterly alone. I had no one. Leaving the hoodie on the floor, I crawled to the bathroom and threw up. Looking up, I saw a can of body spray with a note attached.

Babe,
I left the bottle of my body spray. Go ahead and spray it whenever you miss me, it'll smell like me. Also, I left a sizable amount of my clothes in the guys' apartment. Go ahead and root through them, or whatever. Wear them. I don't mind. I can't wait to see you again.
Love,
Craig

Tears slowing, I called up someone who I knew would answer. Ring. Ring. "Hey, Ash."
I choked back a tear. "Dad?" He wasn't my biological dad, but Ronnie's. I started calling him Dad when I was twelve.
"What's the matter?"
"Are you up?"
"Yeah, I'm up. What's the matter?"
"Can I come over?"
"Yeah, what's the matter?"
"I'll tell you when I get there." I said, finally realizing he had asked the question three times before I answered it.
"Okay. Be safe, okay?"
"Yeah."
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He gave me a mug of coffee. "Ash, what's wrong?"
"Escape The Fate left for tour."
"And?"
"And they're my only friends, and Ronnie's in prison, and I have no one for four months."
"You wouldn't be tearing up like this. You'd be snorting, and..."
"I've been clean after I got in a car accident. That's not the point though. I'm dating Craig. Mabbitt. The singer. That replaced Ronnie. And... Fuck... I miss him."
"Oh. I'm sorry." Dad took my hand. "Really? Craig? I saw how Ronnie-"
"I know." I groaned. "Don't chastise me."
"Have you told Ronnie?"
"No."
"I see."
"Dad, I've gotten better. I'm clean, have been for a couple months. Well, from drugs. Alcohol and cigarettes, but..."
"Well, I'm proud of you for that."
"Thanks."
"Go get some sleep, okay? You need to sleep off the emotions."
I sighed. "Okay."
"Your room is still like it was."
I trudged upstairs and went to my teenage bedroom. It was still covered in stupid Escape The Fate posters I had bought just to support the band. Ronnie jokingly hated it, having his band's face all over my room, but I just did it because he was my best friend. Max got a kick out of it, whenever he came over, he'd pop into my room, say hi, and leave, just to see the posters. I crawled into the bed and turned off the light, trying to fall asleep.