We're Not Perfect

It was the night of our gig and I was backstage with The Last Leaf. Between the five of us, we’d managed to down an entire bottle of Jack in less than ten minutes. We were buzzed, but none of us were drunk; we knew better than to try performing drunk. And we were saving the drugs for afterwards.

Getting our things together, we waited to be announced before running onstage. I quickly spotted my brother, Robert, Monte, and Max. I was somewhat surprised to see Max there as well, as Craig had done all he could to keep us apart. We’d tried meeting late at night, going out and meeting somewhere, having Robert and Monte take Craig out. Nothing worked though. Craig somehow always showed up, or came home randomly. I almost wondered if he’d installed hidden cameras in the house and was following me wherever I went. But I knew that if he had, he would have known about my drug use that I’d picked up on again.

My band and I performed our usual cover songs, and were applauded by our fans who had followed us. Halfway through our set, we announced that we were going to be performing our own songs. Our fans, old and new, screamed at us, impatient for us to start. I didn’t remember much else from that performance, other than the amazing response we got.

After the show, I met up with ETF outside. “I can’t believe my baby sister is this amazing!” Craig exclaimed. He, Monte, and Robert hugged me tightly, telling me we were amazing and they couldn’t believe we’d made them wait this long to see them. I noticed that Max stood away from us, leaning against the wall, not speaking, not even looking at me. I told the guys not to wait up for me, as they had recently begun taking turns, since I was going to celebrate. Once again, Max ignored me.

When I found my band, Blake had a bottle of beer already open in his hand and joints were being rolled. I fell into the only empty seat and lost myself in thought while Sam finished what he was doing and Jason and Aaron ran for more booze.

Why hadn’t Max even looked at me? Did he no longer care about me? After all, he had been the one to quit trying to get around Craig first. And now he wouldn’t talk to me, congratulate my band on how well we did, not even look at me? I felt as if everything that mattered no longer existed. There was nothing left.

Sam finally brought me back, handing me a beer. Everyone looked surprised when I took the joint being passed around. They knew I’d been trying to get clean, but I hadn’t told them about our forced breakup. But I needed an escape from this world. And that escape came in the form of drugs and alcohol.

It was a few hours before the room was littered with empty bottles and the remnants of coke and weed. We were all drunk, myself included. Somehow we stumbled out of the club and down the street. We made it to Blake’s house alive, where we used up his stash before passing out on the floor as the sun came up. And so began my downward spiral.

One by one, I broke every promise I’d made. I drank nightly and it was a rare night I wasn’t drunk when I got home or passed out at one of my bandmates houses. I took more pills than ever. I started cutting again. And I got back into drugs, taking anything I could get. Tony took advantage of my situation and I knew he would be the end of me. When I was at the club, I spent my time before performances with him, and after if he wanted. Or demanded, depending on how you looked at it. If I wasn’t with Tony after the show, I’d be with my band getting high.

The only good that had come during this time was that The Last Leaf had gained popularity and we were offered gigs at a few different clubs. We had a little fan group that always showed up. A few clubs banned us from ever coming back, and we’d run from the cops more than once. Somehow, we always managed to get away, but it cost us.

All the clubs paid us for our time, and the money we didn’t spend on upgrading and caring for our instruments went to our growing drug addictions. Because of that, we couldn’t get out of Vegas. None of us had cars, and there was no way we were walking to the next state.

I barely spent time at home, or ETF’s house as I began referring to it. Occasionally I’d let myself in and go straight to my bedroom, not talking to anyone. I’d get up early and make breakfast for the guys, leaving well before anyone was up. It was one of those morning Monte caught me.

“Rylii, please, just stay home for one day,” he pleaded. ”We miss you. We all know you’re not ok, and Max isn’t ok either. You have no idea how bad he is; he barely talks to us anymore and locks himself in his room. Then you randomly come home late at night, don’t say a word to any of us, and leave before anyone gets up. I don’t know what you spend your days doing or where you are, but you need to come home. Talk to us. At least talk to Craig. He’d your brother and he deserves to know what’s going on.”

I’d stood silently, leaning against the wall as I listened. I knew Monte was right. I wasn’t ok, and I really should talk to Craig. Even though he was the one to cause all this, maybe he could be the one to fix it. I cringed in pain when Monte pulled me into a hug. He must have noticed, as he pulled back quickly and the tears I’d seen lining his eyes were now making their way down his cheeks.

“Ry?” I looked up, over Monte’s shoulder to the stairs. Max stood there, still half asleep, not looking like himself at all. His face was pale, his eyes bloodshot. He looked sick. And depressed. That was all it took for me. I turned and walked out the door.

After what Monte had said and seeing Max like that, I could feel the pain I’d been numbing rising to the surface. And that hug had reminded me of all the cuts and bruises from Tony that covered my body. I needed my escape.

Letting myself into Aaron’s house, I found him watching tv on the couch. It didn’t take much convincing before we were on our way out. I drowned my sorrow in Jack and numbed my body with weed. And to finish it off, I let my mind drift off into the Wonderful World of Oxy.