1
XANDER
I’ve got so much shit on my mind, but what’s topping my list is how cramped our space is—and the lack of privacy. It’s getting on everyone’s nerves. We’re on our fourth “mini” tour and it’sreally bad.Correction—Ben’sreally bad.
“What’s going on?” Jesse asks.
“Fucking Ben’s puking his guts out, man,” Kennedy explains.
“Jesus. How much did he drink?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. A lot. He was doing shot after shot with the guys from Burners.”
“Shit. Can he even stand up?” Jesse asks, looking at his brother slumped against the toilet on the tour bus.
“I don’t think so. We might have to take him to the hospital, Jess,” Kennedy answers.
“Fuck. That’s gonna get out.” Jesse paces. “Let’s get him there. Find a car. We aren’t taking the fucking bus.”
“Shit, okay.” Ethan jumps down the stairs of the bus to find someone who’ll let us use a car.
“This is getting worse and worse,” Jesse murmurs.
“It doesn’t help he’s hanging with those guys. They party every fucking night—and the drugs are insane,” I mention.
Jesse looks up at me. “Has he been doing them?”
I shake my head. “As far as I know, just weed. Hell, we all smoke a little weed.”
“I’m not worried about the weed, but the coke they’ve got out every night, that does,” Jesse admits.
I sigh. “Me, too. Let’s get through this and try to get some control when he’s sobered up. Maybe having his stomach pumped will help him gain a little perspective.”
“Maybe,” Jesse mutters just as Ethan comes barreling through the door and jingles some keys.
“Let’s go.”
Jesse and I pick Ben up off the floor. He’s dead weight, covered in puke, and smells like a distillery.
“Well, they didn’t have to pump your stomach, dickhead,” I bite out to Ben when his eyes blink open.
“Fuck. I feel like I got hit by a truck,” he groans.
“Nope, just a fifth of good ol’ JD,” Jesse announces as he takes a seat. “We don’t have to cancel the shows since they’re a few days away. They’ve pumped you full of fluids.”
Jesse continues to glare at Ben, who closes his eyes and tilts his head back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drink so much.”
“How could you tell? Shot after shot without any thought,” Kennedy chastises.
“You need to chill with Lucian. He’s been out longer than we have, a lot longer. We’ve got a shit load of touring left to do, bro,” Jesse reminds him.
I nod. “Yeah, man. You don’t have to party like it’s 1999.”
Ethan snorts. Kennedy grins. Jesse chuckles.
Ben starts to laugh, but then groans instead. “Nice, Xan.”
“Dude, you know I’m full of ‘em.”
Ethan snorts again. “You’re full of something, alright.”
“Funny fucker, aren’t you?” I tease.
Ethan laughs.
The next day, we’re back on the road.
