The Girl Who Changed Everything

Oh sweetheart, put the bottle down
You've got too much talent
I see you through those bloodshot eyes

“It’s not working!” James exclaimed pulling at his semi-long brown hair. Cameron tried to calm him down with a half-hearted smile, which was really a half-of-a-half-of-a-half-smile.
Danny was sitting on the bus alone now. James tried, and failed like the everyone else. Outside the bus was a hoard of people. We had Black Veil Brides, Brokencyde, All Time Low, Hey Monday, Falling In Reverse, My Chemical Romance, Dahvie and Jayy, and If Looks Could Kill just waiting.

‘It’s like an intervention,’ Ben had explained-or tried to-the process. One at a time the people who cared about him went to talk to him, in hopes of helping him overcome his alcoholic-ism. They had ended up just gathering everyone from tour, including All Time Low (Alex wouldn’t let me go alone), and they had all tried. Except me. They said I was too young. “Last case scenario,” Sam had attempted to reassure me.

“It seems as though the scenario is last case,” I said in a controlled voice. I wasn’t giving up on him. He taught me how to scream (music wise, for you dirty minded people :]), how to get people to stop hitting on me, how to interview in a effective way, and most of all, he taught me to stop my teenage drinking. I used to drink to forget, to let loose every now and then. After seeing the effects on Danny, I couldn’t.

Sam looked at me with wide eyes, almost scared. What he was scared for, I couldn’t tell you. Maybe he thought it would screw me up somehow, or maybe even Danny. The other members of the crowd fell into a quiet acceptance of the situation. James looked at me, salty tears brimming in his hopeful brown eyes, and whispered a broken, “It seems so.”
I took a deep breath and stood. I knew what I was going to do. He needed a wake-up call. And soon. As in now. I was prepared to administer it. As harsh as need be.

I walked forward, the people around me shifting silently to allow my passing. The only sound was the soft padding of my converse against the cold pavement, and James trying to control his sobs. If a stranger were to happen upon this dreary scene, they’d assume a loved one had died. To us, Danny just about was dead. He could barely stand most hours of the day he was so intoxicated. Cameron had replaced the alcohol in bottles with coffee; in hopes within his drunken stupor, Danny would drink it, resulting in a quicker sober state. It worked.

As I passed James, he lightly gripped my shoulder. Searching my eyes, he leaned in carefully. I almost didn’t feel his frown poisoned lips brush against my forehead. I knew then, he was giving me permission to do whatever it took to save his best friend.

James pulled back slowly, blinking his watery eyes, and nodded at me. I nodded back the slightest, unable to do more. I could feel the pain radiating off his body. James may be a 23 year old man, but at that particular moment in time, he looked to be 13. Scared for his best friends’ life he choked out a watery, “gu-hu-ha.” I knew what he meant even through his uncontrolled sob: good luck. I pulled him down carefully and pressed my lips against his smooth cheek in reassurance. I’d make him better. I’d make it all better.

I pulled away, allowing James to stand straight again. I vaguely noticed the gazes of our small audience boring into us. I released his bicep from my sturdy hold and stepped back. I swallowed hard, forgetting anything else, and walked towards the bus.
As I emerged from the small steps, Danny’s figure came into my view. He sat staring out the small window from the couch. His face was on his hands, elbows firmly planted on his knees.

Danny didn’t even look my way when he said, “Save it love.” His tone contained no malice, no anger, just care. He said it so softly, I stopped.

“Never.”

“Why not?” Danny asked, no patience evident in his strong British accent. “Everyone else gave up. They all left, not one cares, not really.”

“No one cares?” I questioned incredulously. Each word was delivered in a louder voice than the last, “No one cares! Why the hell do you think we would try if we didn’t care?” I all but yelled at the vocalist. Danny tore his gaze from the window to my small frame.

“Because, they’ve all left me at one point or another,” Danny told me with the same amount of patience, if not less, than before. My mouth opened to say something, my face contorting in confusion as I summoned my voice. He cut me off before I could speak, his tone much more soft. “I know you don’t understand love, I hope you don’t ever have to.”

Anger boiled inside of me. Not understand? No. I understand. Completely, and he knows it. He is just afraid to admit he isn’t alone. Because if he does, he would have a reason to stop.

“Get up.” I demanded him. Danny blinked in surprise to the force in my voice. “I said, get up.” I said even more forcefully. He stood hesitantly. I marched forward and gripped his pale forearm. In his confusion I led him outside, to the group. The other members of Asking Alexandria turned slowly, standing at the front, while the rest of the crowd hung back to watch.

“How would you feel if they died?” I asked him quickly, a hint of attitude lacing each word. Danny blinked at me, much like everyone else. I realized I wouldn’t receive an answer and continued, my words getting desperate, angry and loud. “How would you feel if you had to sit back and watch them die? Slowly killing themselves? How would you feel if every day they lost themselves a little more? How would you feel? What if you had to call their mother, or father, brother or sister, and explain how you had to sit back and watch them die because they were too ignorant to realize what they were doing? Don’t you see that you’re not only hurting yourself? Your taking everyone down with you, and honey, you’re just too drunk to know it.” I finished with tears clouding my vision. He blinked with a pained expression, staring at each member of Asking Alexandria without trust.

He started to shake his head, looking to the floor. James let a new round of relentless tears stain his devastated features. “They all leave!” Danny said loudly, looking at me frantically.

“Then I’ll stay! I won’t leave you! Just let me help. Please?” I begged with tears in my mahogany eyes. He scrunched his lips together, turning away, desperately trying to hide his tears. “Just try. For you? For Cameron? For Ben? For Sam? For James? For…me?” I asked feebly.

Danny knew how many funerals I had been to, how many friends I had lost. I knew that he would do what I asked. I trusted him, and he trusted me. It was weird how that happened.
Neither initiated it. We didn’t speak of it. We kind of just…trusted.
He turned to me, grey eyes full of pain and…hope? “you will?” he asked, not believing a word I said.

“even when you tell me to go away,” I told him, reaching out and gripping his hand. A tear fell from his pained orbs, followed by an army. A sob escaped his lips. I drew him to me, and wrapped my small arms around his face. “just don’t let go.”

Oh sweetheart put the bottle down
'Cause you don't wanna miss out