Letters

"Alan you need to restrict the amount of alcohol you drink." Austin said, sitting tight in front off Alan.

They were on the bus, talking seriously into the back lounge. Austin was worried. Alan had started drinking a lot right after his suicidal attempt. He claimed that it was the only way to stop nightmares. He had told them that if he was hammered when he went to bed, he wouldn't have any dreams.

They would have been perfectly fine, if he wasn't drinking that much, destroying himself.

The last time they went back home, he didn't drink anything, he was with Katelynn, and refused to be drunk next to her.

He had stayed three days, and the last day, he started showing that the lack of alcohol had a big affect on him. He was grumpy that day, and he was getting angry really easily.

That was the moment the guys started to seriously worry. They didn't thought he would get addicted so quickly and easily to alcohol. He used to drink like everyone of them, before. But now he was addict, and they tried to help him the best he could.

"Austin, I'm okay."

"No, you're not. You need to stop that! I know you're already addicted to alcohol, but please. You need to restrict it."

Alan rolled his eyes. He was sure Austin was in the wrong. He wasn't addict at all.

"Austin, if I want, I can stop tomorrow. I'm not addicted to anything."

"Then stop if you're not addict."

"I don't want to." Alan shrugged. "It stops the nightmares."

"But this is killing you!" Austin said, loosing his calm.

"No it's not. I haven't tried to kill myself since. I never tried to cut. Nothing. So no, it isn't killing me." He said, convinced to be right.

"But you're not yourself! You're hammered all day long, Alan! This isn't right."

Alan only shrugged in answer.

"Stop acting like it's nothing! It's fucking important!"

"No it's not. I don't have any problems, you're only making this up!" With that, pissed off, Alan stoop up and walked away.

He wasn't addicted to alcohol. He knew it may be wrong but he had other things to care about.

He was happy he no longer had nightmares. He could sleep.

But he felt guilty for lying to Austin. He knew he was right. But he couldn't stop. He refused to live the nightmares again.

He went to his bunk, and laid there for a while. He missed Zoey. He didn't thought it was possible to miss someone that much. It felt like he couldn't remember every little detail, with time. He was no longer sure what exact words she had said.

And her voice. Every detail of her appearance was still easy to remember, because of pictures, but her voice... He didn't have any recording of it. Nothing. He remembered it, but he had came to doubt the way she was saying some words, some sounds. And it broke his heart

He stroked his eyes, trying to push away the tears. He felt his stomach flip. He looked at the tattoo on his hand.

I miss you so much, Zoo. I wish you could just come back. I'd gave you anything. I want to see you again.

He stared at the top of his bunk. What could he do? Nothing. He was helpless. Nothing would ever save him from the nightmare his life had become. He let the tears roll down his cheeks. He hated every second that passed by. He hated every tears on his face.

He hated every of his own heartbeats. He couldn’t wait for his day to come.

He turned around in his bunk. No, Alan. Don't think that way. You have to be there for Katelynn. That's your future. Not dying, as much as you want it. You have to be strong.

But at the same time, he didn't want to be living his life for someone else. His life was his own propriety, if he wanted to get rid of it, it was his right.

But Katelynn needs you. You're her only parent left, you can't abandon her.

Although other persons would probably be better at this job that he ever would be. He was a shitty dad, who wasn't even taking care of his baby girl all the time. She deserved so much better than a mess like him. She deserved the best. He wasn't the best.

I love her, I'm not perfect, but I'll try…

And while he tried, he had gotten into really stupid addictions.

He curled into a ball, wondering what the fuck he was doing.



"What did he said? " Phil asked Austin, as he went back from the lounge.

Austin sighed. "That it's nothing, that he's not addicted, and some other bullshit."

"Shit." Justin swore.

"He need help." Aaron said, staring at the ground.

"What you mean? Like, professional help?" Phil asked him.

Aaron shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we can manage to help him on our own, even if I doubt it now, but we need to try. He can't stay that way."

Everyone nodded, sadly. Alan was a mess, and they all knew it. There was only one person who was capable of pulling him back together. And that person was gone.

"Do you think she’s watching?" Tino, who had stayed silent the whole time, finally asked.

There was a silent. "I hope she isn’t. It would break her heart." Justin whispered. The silence went back.

"Do you think Alan is gonna survive this?" Aaron whispered.

The silence that answered it said it all. They felt sick. A month or so ago, they had thought that yes, he would be okay. But since that night in the bathtub, he was slowly going down. None of them knew what to do.

"We need to do something." Justin said. He refused to let his best friend fall to pieces right before his eyes.

"Yes." Austin answered, not having any idea of what they could actually do.

They couldn’t put him into a rehab, he didn’t wanted it, and being alone in a hospital would probably kill him. He needed to be on stage. And he needed Katelynn. They had thought about bringing Katelynn (and the girls to take care of her) on tour with them. But they knew tour was probably the worst place to bring a baby. It was a shitty idea. But the only one they had, so far.

The tour was ending in June. They still had over a month to go. Then, they would be home for some times, before going back on tour for a week or two, all summer. Between each small tours they could come back home, so it would be easier. Now they simply couldn’t wait until they went home.

Everyone was tired, like they were on every tour, but with Alan in that state, it was even harder. They were talking with their girls, but it wasn’t like having them next to them. The girls tried their best to help them with Alan, but they couldn’t do much.

Austin was keeping Sandra and Alan’s family updated on Alan case. It gave him an occasion to talk more with his sister. And even if he hated the reason he was talking with her, he still liked doing it.

The fans were starting to see that something was wrong. Many asked them if the band was okay. Some had even wondered if they were about to split up. They always answered that everything was okay.

On internet, people were starting to say that they weren’t 'as good as they used to be'. But what could they do? They were trying their best to not let Alan kill himself, and even if it affected the way they performed, it was still better than… Alan doing something stupid. But of course they couldn’t say that.

They had an interview, some days after, and only Austin Aaron and Tino went to it. The interviewer tried the whole time to make them talk about what was going on, with hidden questions. But they managed to not say a word. They refused to talk about that. It was Alan’s place to talk about it, and they knew that would achieve him.

They were all pissed when they came back. Alan was once again sitting alone, listening to music. He barely talked to them anymore. He was in his own world, and no one knew how to pull him out of it. They tried to talk with him, but nothing seemed to work.

After the show, they all went back to the bus. None of them were in the mood to drink, only wanting Alan to stop.

He drank like he usually did. He was making sure he was still completely in control, but acting like he wasn't. He, then, went to bed, taking a full bottle of jack with him. He laid down inside of the bunk, drinking a few mouthfulls.

And then, he waited. half an hour after he went to his bunk, everyone was inside of their own. He continued to wait, drinking slowly.

He was used to that, he was doing that every night. He couldn't admit it to the guys. They would be so mad and pissed at him. They would probably punch him.

45 minutes after everyone was in their bunk, it was time. He took the small bag from under his pillow, and shoved it in his sweatpants' pocket. He stood up, acting as if he was already drunk, and went to the bathroom, his bottle of jack in his hand. He closed the door. He sat there for some time, letting the guys who were still awake think he was drinking. Then, he stood up, opened the bottle of jack, taking one last drink, before emptying it in the toilets. He watched the amber liquid mixing with water. His face and mind were blank. The only think that was on his mind was what was coming after. His whole body wanted it. No, his whole body needed it.

He closed the bottle, and settled it on the side of the sink.

A small smile formed on his lips as he took the small bag, and opened it, starring at the white powder.

He poured out a small amount then made with a card he carried with the bag a line, with the right amount of powder. He took a dollar from his pocket, and rolled it up. He took a deep breath, and snorted the white line.

His whole body relaxed, knowing the drug was inside of his body. He put the rest back into the box, not wanting to take too much time. He needed to be back in his bunk before the Ketamine kicks in. He quickly put everything into order, used by now to do all of that. He took the empty bottle of Jack, and walked back to his bunk faking being drunk. He went inside of his bunk, letting the bottle fell on the ground.

And he laid there. He felt happy, as he started feeling the drugs taking over his body. It felt like a liberation. It felt like every of his problem were disappearing. He felt whole again.