Into the Wild...Boyz

Steve-O steered clear of Darcie for the rest of the week they filmed. Of course it didn’t help that Jeff had them work through the weekend in Mexico like he promised. Well, maybe it did help. Steve-O made sure to stay drunk on a rough mixture of tequila and mescal. Mescal was a cheaper form of tequila. He even managed turning eating the worm at the bottom of a mescal bottle into a bit. He was a little light on footage but heavy on attitude the whole time they were there, really, which made him a complete delight to work with.

Darcie, on the other hand, she just went about her business and kept things civil between her and Steve-O which was driving him nuts. He wanted to talk to her but then his pride took over and would yell a resounding “fuck her” in his head any time he got within a few feet of her. The night before they were to fly back to California, he’d about had it; he had to know why she took off like she did from the party at his house. He did his best to appear as sober as possible, which was a challenging task considering he’d kept himself very medicated the whole time they were there. He thought about this while he wandered down the hall of their floor trying to find Darcie’s room. It was better to hide behind a bottle of booze and other helpful means of escape rather than face this head one, even though he had no clue what the hell he was facing.

He’d knocked on a couple doors and some of the crew was helpful, others weren’t so much. Dimitry was one of them. He told him, in a nice way, that he should just steer clear of Darcie altogether. She was a nice girl and didn’t need a headache like him. Steve-O took this into consideration but didn’t give up his search. Thankfully, Cordell, one of their sound guys, pointed him in the right direction.

Steve-O wandered down to the end of the hall in the direction of Darcie’s room. He was careful not to make too much noise and also careful not to appear as messed up as he was. He hesitated briefly then quickly rapped on the door. Indecision and doubt wrestled inside of him but it was too late to run. Just as he was about to turn and run away, Darcie opened the door.

“What?” Darcie looked up at him. Steve-O immediately felt like he was under a microscope, she was studying him so hard but that was probably just the alcohol talking, or thinking, rather for him.

“Can I talk to you?” Steve-O asked politely.

“About what?”

“I really don’t feel like getting into it in the hall if that’s okay with you.”

Darcie reluctantly led him inside her room. He was relieved and studied his surroundings as he followed her in. He noticed she had a sketchpad on the bed and the TV was on.

“I’m not bugging you, am I?”

“No, you’re not bugging me”, said Darcie as she sat down on the bed. She picked up her sketchpad and tossed it onto the nightstand. He slowly sat down on the other side of the bed, making sure that a safe distance was kept between them.

“Were you drawing?”

“Not really. I really haven’t done anything with that since Argentina, to be honest.”

“Oh”, Steve-O replied quietly. He left like she was even more annoyed with him for asking that.

“So did you need something or what? I don’t have any alcohol if that’s what you’re after.”

“No, I….uh, I wanted to talk to you.” Steve-O sighed. “Why’d you leave my party like you did that night?”

“I don’t think this is the time or place to get into that, Steve. And by the way you’re looking, I doubt you’ll remember much of this conversation.”

“That’s not true. I’m sober at that moment.” Darcie knew better than that and by the look on her face she wasn’t buying either. “Okay, maybe I’m a little buzzed but I really wanna know, Darcie. This whole week I felt like shit because of it.”

“Could’ve fooled me. If it really bothered you, you would’ve said something earlier.”

“I know and I’m sorry for that. I was scared. So now I’m here. You can tell me, I won’t get angry or upset. I promise.”

“There’s nothing for you to be angry or upset about, Steve. But I rather get into this when you’re in a different frame of mind because I guarantee it’ll ruin your buzz.” She ran a hand through her short, red hair and drew her knees up to her chest, propping her forehead against her hand. She didn’t feel like having this conversation, period but eventually it would be bound to happen if they were to be friends.

“Please tell me, Darcie. Was it because of the coke?” Her blue eyes shifted toward him and he knew that was the answer. “Well, I don’t do it all the time if that’s what you think.”

She knew better than that. She heard stories from the crew and Dimitry. Even Jeff had gone off about Steve-O’s little problem when he thought no one was really listening. “I can’t be around you if you’re going to do that, I’ve been there and I don’t need the temptation.”

“You were a coke addict?” This was a big surprise to him. He didn’t strike her to be that type of person.

Darcie just nodded her head to confirm it. “For the first couple of years when I first came out here to start my career. I made friends with the wrong people I guess.”

“Much like I am, right?”

“I didn’t say that, Steve. I don’t even know the people you hang out with.”

“They’re not the best that’s for sure but they know how to have a good time.”

“If that’s what you call it.”

“Don’t judge me”, he snapped at her.

“Get out”, said Darcie as she got off the bed and went straight to the door to open it.

“Darcie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“I don’t give a fuck what you meant. That’s why you didn’t need to know. Now get out.”
Steve-O hung his head and got up from the bed. He silently trudged to the door. He took one look at Darcie but she did her best to ignore him, her arms folded defiantly across her chest. She wanted no part of him right now. She was nice enough to let him in and talk to him and he turned it into an attack on himself. What a self-absorbed, douche bag she thought as he stood in front of her, trying desperately to look sympathetic to her plight.

“Darcie, I need someone like you around me, I do. You know what I’m doing is bad.”

“I’m not a guardian angel and I’m not a saint. Besides, I wouldn’t want that type of responsibility anyway, Steve. But if you do keep doing what you’re doing, yeah you can bet you’re going to kill yourself.”

“Just don’t stop being my friend in all of this. I apologize for being a douche a while ago.”

“Fine. Just go to bed. We’ve got an early flight tomorrow and it’s already three in the morning.”

“I’d love to go to bed but uh, Pontius kinda locked me out of our room.”

“Well then wake him up.”

“Okay, lemme try again. Pontius shoved me out, locked me out and won’t answer the door. He hates me too for some reason."

“So not only did you come here to talk but you came here to crash as well?”

“Depending on how the talk went, yeah and since we seemed to have patched things up, I didn’t think there was any harm in asking you.”

Darcie clucked her disapproval and shook her head. It was against her better judgment but she moved away from the door and he followed her back inside after he shut the door behind him. She grabbed the comforter from the bed and tossed it at him along with a pillow.

“You get the floor”, she muttered as she fell onto the bed.

“That’s fair. It’s better than the hallway.” He smiled to himself as he fixed the comforter on the floor and lay down, lacing his hands behind his head. “Were you there for that?”

“There for what, Steve?”

“In Argentina, when Knoxville was so drunk he thought the hallway was his room.”

“I think I was sleeping while all that went down but I saw the footage. Pretty crazy.” She reached for the bedside lamp and turned it off. They both lay there in silence, Steve-O on the floor and her tucked underneath the remaining covers on the bed.

Steve-O cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Darcie.”

“For?”

“I’m sorry for being a jerk and not being a good friend and respecting your past problem. I promise
to be better about it, okay? Because I don’t wanna risk our friendship and I really like you too.”

“Steve, we’re okay just go to sleep.” She reasoned it was just the alcohol and who knows what else coursing through his system anyway that persuaded him to be apologetic. She was done talking about it.

“Okay. Because…”

“No more words. Just go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Steve-O sighed heavily. He had so much more to say to her but he’d save it for another
time, or another day and a better setting. “Good night.”

“Good night.”