Learn From Cigarette Burns

At the moment I wasn't sure where my fiancé was.

Thinking he was at the cafe down the street, I had walked down there only to find some kids from the show grabbing a late night drink. From there, I went to the pizza and deli place up the block, thinking that he had stopped by to grab a slice of pizza, but all I found were skater boys and the scene girls that wanted in their pants.

Not knowing where else he could be, I slowly made my way back to the venue, feelings slightly depressed about spending my time looking for John, rather than spending my time with him. Frustrated, I kicked at random pebbles whenever I saw them, and muttered a few choice words under my breath in regards to my fiancé.

"Dee, there you are." A voice called from up ahead of me.

Startled, I looked up and saw Jared making his way toward me. I smiled softly in response and waved to him.

"Where have you been?" He asked as he came to a stop a few feet in front of me. "Johno's been looking everywhere for you." He added as he offered his arm out to mine.

I gave Jared a strange look before I linked my arm with his. "I've been out, looking for him." I replied. "I have no idea where that boy is. He said that he was going to run out to the van for something and he never came back. I looked all around for him."

Jared laughed softly in amusement as we continued our way back to the venue. "I have to warn you," he said, "he's gotten a hold of some alcohol so he's a bit … out there at the moment."

"What kind?" I questioned warily.

"Um … whiskey I believe." Jared said. "Well, Crown Royal is whiskey, right?"

"Canadian whisky," I confirmed.

Jared and I fell silent for a couple of minutes before he decided to speak up again.

"Are you mad at him?" He asked hesitantly.

"No," I replied, "why would I be mad at him? It's John we're talking about; that boy likes to drink."

"I don't know," Jared blushed, "it's just … I know that sometimes you get pissed at him for drinking."

"I get pissed when he's going around acting like a complete fool." I said. "Or when he gets completely trashed to the point where he can't walk by himself."

"Well, he's not acting like that right now." Jared told me.

"That's because he's drinking whiskey." I said. 'Usually it’s the tequila that does him in. I rarely let him drink tequila."

"You keep tabs on which types of alcohol make him do what?" Jared asked in amusement.

"We've been together a long time, Jared." I reminded him. "I learned a long time ago what sorts of alcohol to let him drink and what kind I need to keep away from him."

At this, Jared laughed loudly and then shook his head. "So tell me," he said, "what sort of mood will he be in tonight, seeing as how he's drinking whiskey?"

I took a few moments to think to myself as I gazed up ahead of us, eyeing the light being spilled onto the darkened sidewalk from the backlights of the venue. "Hmm … he'll be cocky tonight, yet amusing at the same time." I said. "I think it's safe to say we're in for a lot of laughs tonight."

"I have to admit, I'm kinda scared." Jared laughed. "I'm glad tomorrow we have a day off."

"You know – "

I stopped myself short when the sound of honking horns and screeching tires reached my ears. I gasped slightly, knowing that the sound came from the back parking lot where the busses and vans were parked, and together Jared and I hurried down the sidewalk. As we rounded the corner, the entire parking lot seemed to be filled with hustle and bustle as its occupants all migrated to or gathered around a specific point.

Curious as to what had happened, Jared and I followed the crowd who had gathered around a figure lying on the ground, clutching their wrist. Upon further inspection I realized that it was John and I pushed my way past some people so that I could kneel beside him.

"John?" I asked hurriedly. "Johno, babe, what happened?"

"Pat ran me over with the fucking van!" He yelled.

With wide eyes, I looked up at Pat and in response he held his hands up in defense as he shook his head. "I was moving the van and he somehow thought he could stop it."

I rolled my eyes and looked back down to John, finding that he had since sat up. He held his hand up, showing me the damage. I frowned as I examined his swollen wrist and then sighed heavily.

"Babe, I think it's broken." John mumbled sadly, his words slurred here and there by the alcohol.

"John," I growled, "what the hell were you thinking?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "Can you just get me to the ER please?"

"Fine." I grumbled, standing to my feet. "Get up." I instructed.

John whined softly and held his good hand out to me, asking me to help him up. Sighing to myself, I took his hand in mine and helped him up before I lead him from the center of attention. Once out of the spot light, I looked around in search of an unfamiliar face, hoping that an unfamiliar face would mean they were someone local, someone with the knowledge of the nearest hospital.

Seeing my dilemma, a teenage boy toward the back of the small crowd that had gathered around us eased his way through and approached us shyly.

"If you want, I can give you guys a ride to the hospital." He offered.

I opened my mouth to reply, but John beat me to it. "That'd be fucking splendid."

The boy laughed nervously at John's words and I gave him an apologetic smile before he turned around and led the way to his car. Wrapping an arm around John's middle, he in turn wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned against me as we followed our 'chauffer'.

"John, what made you think that you could actually stop that van?" I hissed.

"Because." Was his only response.

I rolled my eyes and tightened my arm around him as we rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of a nicely restored 1969 Camaro.

"Nice ride." I commented.

"Thanks." The teenage boy said shyly. "It'll probably be easier if we all just sit in the front." He said slowly. "Unless you want to sit in the back and let him in the front."

"I'll sit in the back." I said. "I don’t want to sit by him right now."

As I released John, he muttered a few incoherent words under his breath but I chose not to respond to him. After climbing into the back seat, I pulled the front passenger seat back, and watched warily as John unsteadily maneuvered his way into the seat while carefully cradling his left hand. John closed the door and then leaned his head against the back of the seat.

The ride to the hospital was short and mostly quiet with the exception of John mumbling a few bits of gibberish here and there. Once we were at the hospital, the boy who had driven us here offered to call the rest of the guy and give them directions to the hospital while I helped John get signed in.

After we were done, I led John to one of the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room and instructed him to stay put. Once he drunkenly assured me he would, I went outside and met up with the teenage boy who had just gotten off the phone with the guys.

"They said they'd be here in a few minutes." He informed me. "Is there anything else that I can help out with?"

"Well," I glanced up at the glass windows and saw John all but sprawled out across three chairs, and then shook my head, "I think you've done all you can do." I said. "Thank you for driving us here."

"No problem," he smiled, "goodnight."

"Night," I called after him as he made his way across the parking lot.

I watched after him until he disappeared from sight and then couldn't help but smile to myself. I'll be honest; sometimes the guys' fans can be obnoxious and annoying, but every so often you come across the fans that treat them like actual people, rather than a famous face.

I sighed softly to myself and went back inside and found my fiancé snoring quietly. Laughing softly, I shook his shoulder gently until his eyelids fluttered open. It took him a few seconds to focus his eyes, and a couple seconds more to recognize me, but once he did he gave me a cute, intoxicated smile before a look of pain flashed across his face. Whining softly, he held up his wrist to show me as if I hadn't seen it before, and then pouted his lips like a small child.

"Well," I said, straightening him up so that I could sit beside him, "you were being stupid so you got hurt."

"I wasn't paying attention." He said. "I was bragging about last night when I beat the shit out of those assholes for you, and then I looked up and Pat was moving the van ... for some reason I thought that I could stop it. You know ... kinda like in the trailers for that Hancock movie with Will Smith."

"Oh, Johno," I mumbled, wrapping my arms tightly around his middle, "you were supposed to be funny and entertaining tonight because Jared said you were drinking whisky. Not stupid."

John was silent momentarily as he wrapped an arm around me, holding me closer to him. "I have a confession."

"If you say you kissed another girl, O'Callaghan, it's your balls." I threatened.

"No, no, it's nothing like that." He said, shaking his head. "I started out with Crown Royal, but then I got my hands on a bottle of Patrone after that."

"Johno," I hissed, "I should slap you for that."

"For drinking Patrone?" He asked.

"Yes." I mumbled. "And for being stupid."

John frowned sadly before brushing aside some of my hairs with his good hand. "I’m sorry." He apologized. "I'll make it up to you."

"How?" I sighed.

"By giving you the best wedding present ever." He informed me.

"Yeah? And what would that be?"

"Whatever you want." He insisted. "Just point it out and I swear, its yours."

"John," I sighed, "you - "

"I swear," he vowed.

Staring up at his green eyes, I saw that he wasn't going to have it any other way so I merely nodded my head as if agreeing with him. Satisfied, John leaned over and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me lovingly. I usually didn't like to kiss my fiancé when he was drunk, because truth be told, he was a bit sloppy when he's been drinking. Tonight, however, he was neither sloppy nor sporadic, but rather passionate, like he was making up for getting drunk and possibly breaking his wrist.

John broke the kiss shortly afterward, and guided my head to his chest, letting me rest it there. The sound of his heartbeat played underneath his ribs, and it soon turned into the lullaby that usually eased me into sleep. Wanting to say awake, though, I forced myself to keep my eyes open.

Eventually the rest of the guys showed up, and not long after John was called into the examination room. Millions of questions, x-rays, and pain medication later, John and I walked hand in hand out of the ER, following behind the guys as they led the way to where they had parked the van.

We were allowed to keep the backseat to ourselves, and as the guys got their things straightened out in the front, I began stripping John of his clothes. I carefully maneuvered his shirt over his new cast, and then folded it, along with his pants, and piled them neatly on the floor. I examined John sitting there in just his boxers, and couldn't help but laugh softly in amusement.

I found he was in no mood to be laughed at, however, and he frowned meanly before looking out the window. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed my things and quickly changed under the protection of my blanket into some comfortable clothes, and then threw the blanket over John and me. Snuggling up to him, I wriggled my way underneath his arm and rested my head against his bare chest before pulling the blankets up underneath my chin.

John sighed quietly as he tightened his arm around me, and then readjusted himself to get a little more comfortable. With his heartbeat once again so close to my ear, I closed my eyes and allowed the much needed sleep to come for me. Just as I was on the verge of passing out, I heard John whisper a faint 'I love you' in the distance.

I reminded myself to tell him 'I love you, too' when I woke up because at the moment I felt as if I were comatose. I never thought that touring would take so much out of you.