Faking Smiles

Tonight Oliver decides to go to some club in the town we're in and I swear, he must have started to drink as soon as he entered and I don't think he stopped drinking till I went in and got him at three in the morning (he wanted an extra hour). I have no idea why he felt the need to get extra drunk, but after dealing with his hangover in the morning, I might need a drink myself.

Ugh, just thinking about it makes me feel like throwing up.

I'm practically dragging Oliver as we walk back to the car and I get him into the backseat. Thank god we're not in New York or some big city like that cause I'm sure paparazzi would be all over this. I don't know how Oliver use to do this by himself.

He should really invest in drinking in a hotel room or even just on the bus.

I start the drive back to the venue where all the buses are probably now all packed up and waiting to leave. I stop at a stoplight and hear Oliver start to mumble in the back, "Eh, Rose?" (Hey, Rose?)

I turn to look at him, "Yes, Oliver?"

"Em sery yeh haph to eal weph meh." (I'm sorry you have to deal with me.)

I unjumble his slurred words and after a moment I reply, "It's part of our deal."

"Bu I didnd haph tu mae yeh meh gurrlfrend." (But I didn't have to make you my girlfriend.)

What? I know I shouldn't be taking advantage of his drunkin state, but I can't help it. This is just too interesting(?). "What do you mean, Oliver?"

"Yeh cudve juss beena dancerr an tacken car uph meh a nigh. Bu I wanded to beh closs tu yeh durren te day, sso I mae yeh mah gurrlfrren." (You could've just been a dancer and taken care of me at night. But I wanted to be close to you during the day, so I made you my girlfriend.)

After that he falls asleep and I'm left to try and figure out the giberish he just said. One thing's for sure-his accent comes out when he's drunk cause he definitely just sounded like a drunk Britsh guy, instead of American.

Is it wrong that I'm thinking about how incredibly attractive I find British guys?

We get back to the venue after a silent 20 minute drive and I see that they're just now getting down with taking the stage apart. Sheesh, you'd be surprised with how long it takes to set up Oliver's stage and everything that goes into the preformance. It's almost like Oliver has the easy part.

I park the car next to our bus and leave the keys under the visor for the owner of the car. Then I walk around to the back and help Oliver get out and walk the few yards to the bus and up the steps.

Once on the bus, Oliver leans onto on one of the counters as I get him a glass of water to drink before he goes to bed.

"Rose?" Without my looking up at him, he continous, "Thank you."

At this I do turn to him and look into his eyes which look strangely sober.

Then the moment is over when he feels his stomach turn and takes off in a drunken run to the small bathroom on the bus.

Well, we're going to have to stop somewhere during the night to get the pipes under the bus cleaned out. I feel so bad for the person who's going to have that job.

I srunch up my face as I walk to where Oliver is laying on the floor in the bathroom. I squat down beside him and rub his back as he quickly sits up and leans over the toliet and he continous to puke out this night's consumptions.

Once he's finished, I help him to stand up and lazily brush his mouth out and rinse. After that I help him to his bunk where he passes out instantly.

I go back to the "kitchen" area of the bus and get out the advil for the morning. I empty the glass of water he didn't get the chance to drink and clean up any other messes that were created during Hurricane Drunk Oliver. Then I wash my hands and make my way to my bunk.

Damn, so much has happened today. And tomorrow we're picking up Oliver's friends from his hometown. Three more boys on the bus.

I'm not really liking the male-to-female ratio here.