Yes, I Was Drunk.

We were sitting at the bar, facing the terrible cover band playing on the stage. She threw her head back and laughed at something funny I had said, which I wasn’t sure was that funny at all. It must have been some a tour story, a prank of some sort.

We were well past tipsy and swimming in intoxication. I flinched at the sound of the unnamed band’s try at making Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen something better than it already was. In my opinion, no one could beat Springsteen. The man was a genius. I sang along to the song softly as she ran her finger over the tattoo on my wrist.

I studied her. She was so beautiful that both my heart and my head couldn't handle it. The way her dark hair was always curled to form ringlets that I could run my fingers through all day drove me nuts. Her lips were always ready to kiss, smooth and soft. Ailey's fingers, long and slender, were perfect to place my fingers in-between. Her eyes were a stunning green, flecked with gold that, when widened and matched with a pout, could get me to do anything. I knew that I could stare at her forever and never get tired of her.

She was mine and at times, I still couldn't believe it.

We had met at Chipotle, of all places. The lads were getting hungry, the fat asses they were, and decided to stop for a break on our way to the next venue on our short US tour of the east coast.

She was the one that was taking orders that day, and when I saw her, I volunteered to order straight away. The guys chuckled and agreed to let me go, making a bet on if I could charm her into giving me her number or not.

By the time I walked away with a receipt, I had gotten food, but no numbers. Instead, I had gotten a smile and a, "Sorry, what was that? I can't understand anything you're saying."

I was shamed into deciding I had been rejected, and walked back to our table with my head hung down, being greeted with laughs and, "Nice one, man."

As she left for her lunch break, Barry, being the cheeky asshole he is, ran over to her and somehow tricked her into giving me her number. It involved a lot of hand motions for some reason, one of which was pointing directly at me. I never asked Barry what the hell he did that day, but it didn't matter because I had gotten the loveliest girl's number.

Ailey leaned into me as she smiled. I returned the expression and pressed my lips to her forehead. “I love you, Ailey.”

She just kept on smiling, as if she didn’t hear me say a word. I suppose she truly didn’t hear anything, as the band was getting louder and louder to the point that when they were done, my ears started to ring. I shook my head to try to get rid of the noise, but it kept growing.

I decided to brush it off, thinking that it would go away in a matter of a few minutes.

“What a shit band,” she said lazily.

All I did was take another drink, and frowned when I realized I had finished the contents of my glass.

“Aye,” I called out to the bartender, turning so I could see him. “Can I have another one of these?”

Ailey placed her hand on my shoulder. “Sam, this is your eighth drink. Slow down. We’ve only been here for what, twenty minutes?”

I shook my head at her. There had been something bothering me. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was all too similar to the ringing in my ears. It grew bigger and bigger until it flooded my thoughts like some kind of ongoing, hazy dream. The only way I could think to get rid of it was to drink.

She kept leaning into me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and she sighed. I couldn't quite decipher whether it was a happy sigh or a tired one.

As I tried to think of something, anything to say to her, someone came and sat on the stool next to Ailey.

I heard a slurred, "Hey, babe. Can I buy you a drink?"

I lazily turned, expecting her to reject him. Why wouldn't she? We had been together for years. She was the love of my life, no doubt. I wanted to marry this girl.

"You most definitely can," she answered, shrugging my arm off her shoulders and turning to face the other guy.

I sat there, waves of shock running through me as my girlfriend flirted as if I didn't exist at all. I turned to the bartender, who looked slightly amused, and in that moment, I wanted to punch him in the nose.

Instead, all I did was take another drink, calming myself down. It must have been the alcohol. That was what it was. My head spun and I couldn't focus on a single thing.

"Do something," the bartender said to me, as if it was obvious.

Anger coursed throughout my entire body and I almost shook with rage. I stood, standing in front of Ailey. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Sam, calm down. I'm just having a conversation," she countered. I wrapped my hand around her arm, ready to pull her away and drive home.

The guy grabbed my shoulder and shoved me away from her, then pulling me towards him so close that our faces were practically touching. "Jealous, huh, pretty boy? I can't even understand a word you're saying! What are you doing here, with a girl like this? You look like shit, man. Do you live in a dumpster or something?"

I was about ready to explode. I could feel the typhoon coming. Ailey was my everything and he was trying to take her from me. "You're one to talk. You look like you've been run over by a truck or something," I shot back. "That's my girlfriend you're flirting with there, lad."

"Oh, my mistake to think she'd ever get with someone like you. I thought you were her driver or just some stalker."

I chuckled, and grinned. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," I said, my grin that of a Cheshire cat's. I pulled my arm back and balled my hand into a fist, swinging and aiming as best I could for the man's jaw. 

I somehow managed to punch him in the general area of where I wanted to, even with my blurry vision and stunned thinking.

"For fuck's sake, Sam!" yelled Ailey, helping the guy up.

"So that's it, then?! You're just going to leave me here?"

"I was just having a conversation!" she defended herself.

"Oh, bollocks, Ailey! Don't even use that with me. This guy is worthless. He's shit! You're just trying to piss me off."

The man shook his head at me. "You fucker!" He picked up his beer bottle that had fallen on the ground and flung it dangerously close to my eye. I dodged it, protecting my face with my hands, which, unfortunately, didn't manage to go unscathed. The jagged bottle edge produced a long gash on my palm.

At this point, Ailey was crying and the bartender had come and taken me by the collar along with the man and dragged us outside. "Don't ever come back here, you two. I don't want any assholes in my bar. I never want to see your pathetic faces again."

He turned to walk away and so did the man. "All I wanted was some pussy."

I took a deep breath and let it out through my nose, taking a step towards him and shoving his shoulder. "Don't ever fucking say that about a girl, especially Ailey. You're disgusting."

"Piss off," the man said, giving me the middle finger.

And that was what Ailey was flirting with. She came up from behind and grabbed me by the shoulder. "What the hell was that, Sam?!"

I turned, even angrier than before. "Me?! You're asking me what that was?"

"Yeah! You didn't have to punch him!"

"He was practically drooling over you, Ailey! And you were letting him!"

"I told you, I was making conversation."

"No! You weren't! I saw it. Don't fucking lie to me. Why'd you do it? To make me feel like shit? Cause you succeeded, babe. You did."

"God, Sam, let's just go home. You're being an ass."

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the car, one of the only ones left in the lot. Unlocking it, I slid in, resting my head on the steering wheel. My headache was roaring, waves of pain hitting against my skull. The buzzing in my ears was louder than ever, and I still couldn't brush off what was bothering me. It was previously minuscule, but it was now the size of an elephant and it was still growing.

I couldn't figure out what it was, but it was there.

I hoped to God I still had control. I couldn't lose it now.

She got in next to me and sat there, arms crossed.

"Who's the ultra slut now?" I muttered, turning on the radio and pulling out of the parking lot.

Fat drops of rain hit the car as we drove. They were getting stronger and stronger with each mile we drove. There were ripples of water decorating the windshield, the window wipers swiping them off. With each swipe came a clean canvas of glass, and with each canvas came a new piece of art.

I was swerving, my focus going in places other than the road. Ailey didn't seem to notice. I did my best to keep us on track, not wanting to crash. Eventually, I ended up ignoring the yellow lines, marking the two different sides of the road. I had one hand on the wheel. The other was still open and cut from the fight.

I ignored every single red light, wanting to get home as fast as possible.

"I hate you, Sam."

I turned to her, disbelief causing me to say, "Excuse me?"

"I hate you."

My foot was still pressing down on the gas pedal, the headache roaring louder than ever. "No, you don't, Ailey. I love you. You love me. That's how it is."

"No, Sam, it isn't."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!"

She turned to face me and I realized she hadn't been wearing a seatbelt. I ignored it, getting ready to hear what she had to say. I was still looking at her, taking in the mascara running down her cheeks as she cried. Her hair was sticking out in all directions and her lipstick was ruined. She was a mess and I was sure that I was even worse.

"It means that I hate you! God, get it through your head!"

"I came here to be with you, Ailey. I barely get to see you. I just wanted to have a good time. I needed you. I needed you and your beautiful face and your healthy glow and I just needed you. And this is what I get?! Did you enjoy the lust, Ailey? Did you do it to spite me? What did I do wrong?!"

"It's always about you, Sam! We always have to work around your schedule. We always have to do the things you want. You, you, you."

"Everything I do is for you, Ailey. I thought we were happy."

I could feel the car going faster but at this point I didn't care. I could feel myself letting go. I desperately needed a rush to keep myself from sinking down and drowning in the misery that I could feel was coming.

She was quiet for a moment. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She sucked in a breath and she whispered, "I don't love you anymore, Sam."

I lost every ounce of control I had and slammed my foot on the pedal in anger, grabbing her hand. The last thing I saw was her face. The last thing I felt before the collision was the life being pounded out of me. She didn't love me anymore. My heart had been split open and ripped out. I had no chance to get it back because the one who held it was gone. By the time my head hit the airbag, I was done. I didn't even try. The music stopped, her heartbeat stopped, I stopped. But the buzzing, it came in even larger waves. And the rain kept coming down. The rain didn't stop for anyone. The last thing I heard were the ambulances. And the last thing I held was her hand.

//

My eyes opened slowly but the light forced them shut. My head was pounding. I was relieved to feel that the buzzing had disappeared, but pain soared throughout my entire body. I was unaware of my surroundings, but by the feeling of the uncomfortable clothing and the sound of the beeping machines, I was in a hospital.

As I tired to open my eyes once more, I was greeted by Ross, Barry, and Craig. "Aye, lad, you're awake! How are you feeling?"

I wasn't quite sure who was speaking, but I nodded, hoping that conveyed some sort of appropriate response.

I closed my eyes again. It took some time for me to realize what had happened the night before. I cringed in pain, remembering what Ailey had told me, and the crash. The bar fight, and the terrible band. The alcohol and the rain. The ambulances.

I shot up, breathing heavily and asked quickly, "Where's Ailey? Is she okay? What happened to her?"

The guys leaned back, all looking hesitant and cautious.

And then I realized the answer to my questions could not have been good. The misery that I had been trying so hard to fight off the night before crashed down on me, pulling me down into the waves and deeper and deeper until I was submerged in despondency and agony.

"Sam, she - she died. In the crash," answered Craig, his voice laced with regret that he had to be the one to inform me of the tragedy.

"I killed Ailey?" I whispered. And to myself, I now appeared as a monster. A beast. A terrible creature that didn't deserve to live. Why had I been the one to live while she was the one who was taken away? She had done no wrong. I was the one who should have died in the accident.

"Were you...were you smashed, Sam?" asked Ross.

"Yes, I was drunk."

Barry sighed. "I'm so sorry. I know you didn't do this on purpose. It's gonna be alright."

I wanted to tell him that it wasn't anything close to alright. Ailey was gone. I would never run my fingers through her hair, or kiss her perfect lips, or place my fingers through hers. I would never look in her eyes again and I would never be able to love her.

I had killed the girl that made me feel alive.