Ugly on the Inside

As soon as Ross was sure John was safely passed out in his own bed, he left his older brother's apartment and headed back to their parents house. It was routine for Ross, and sickening for everyone else around them to witness, despite how hard Ross worked to brush it off like this was all nothing.

John awoke the next morning in the same clothes he had gone out in, always a sign to him of how rough the night prior had been. He must have pissed off his younger brother as there was no Advil and water waiting for him on his bedside table like he'd usually leave for him.

This morning was a particularly rough one for John, and as he cautiously sat up in bed that morning all he was craving was coffee. Caffeine seemed more important to him than clean clothes or a shower, so as soon as he crawled out of bed he threw on some shoes and left his apartment in search for coffee.

There was a small Ma and Pa coffee shop just across the street from his apartment complex, but she had been the one to discover it. She had found it, loved it, and now her voice seemed to almost haunt him whenever he walked by it. He hadn't managed to work up the courage to enter it since she had left him, he just added it onto the list of all the things Calista had perfectly ruined for him. It didn't intrigue him, though. He knew exactly what he would be forced to face if he pushed open those heavy glass doors, and that thought alone was enough to make his skin crawl.

Even hungover, and possibly still a little drunk, John knew better than to venture inside. Instead he opted to walk the nearly mile and a half to the nearest Starbucks. His legs ached as he approached the green sign hanging over the coffee haven, a burning he had grown too accustomed to feeling after doing this walk practically every day, even in the intense Arizona heat. He made a mental note to himself to buy a coffee maker for his apartment as he reached to open the door for himself.

John had always been an early riser, one who loved mornings. Now just the thought of watching the sunrise without her was enough to make his head spin, and was reason enough that he rarely ever made it out of bed before noon. It was late enough into the morning on this particular day that the working crowd had long since come and gone, taking their caffeine fix with them to their 9 to 5 jobs. This allowed John to approach the counter and place his order without having to worry about a line.

He debated for a moment whether he should grab a seat and let his denim clad legs take a break after the long trek he had just made, but as soon as the barista slid his drink across the counter to him a group of giggling girls entered the shop. Their high pitch noises were far too much for hungover John to tolerate, making up his mind for him. One of them was wearing a The Maine shirt, and the last thing John wanted was to run into any fans of his band. He ducked out of the coffee shop before the girls could notice him, not such an easy task for his tall 6 foot frame to accomplish.

He used to love meeting fans. John would go out of his way to make sure a fan never left an encounter with himself disappointed, because he remembered just what it was like to be in their position. Nowadays he no longer had the energy to fake smiles for pictures, and it was far too draining to pretend to be interested in the words they rambled on to him. Perhaps he came off as ungrateful, but he was just tired.

Sick and tired of what he had let his life become when he wasn't on stage.

With his eyes glued firmly to the sidewalk in front of him, John ventured his way back home. Coffee clutched securely in his hands, he still felt just as sore and exhausted as he had when he had awoken. Caffeine seemed to be an obsolete drug in John's life now.

The hot liquid, when mixed with the already sweltering Arizona heat, was not helping the hangover brewing in John's head. He began to quicken his pace, desperate to get back to his apartment. He already regretted leaving his bed today, and he had barely been awake for an hour.

Once back in the confinement of his air conditioned apartment, John downed the rest of the caffeinated beverage, discarding the empty cup onto his kitchen counter. There were no dirty dishes in the sink like usual, telling John that Ross had cleaned up for him before leaving the night before.

Desperate to cool his body down, John peeled off the plaid flannel shirt he had been wearing, dropping his phone in the process. Bending down to quickly scoop up the iPhone, the date caught his attention as it flashed across the screen. It triggered his haggard memory, reminding him that his band was due to perform at the Nile Theatre later that night.

The hometown show, John's favourite to perform, was one of the few gigs his band played between tours, almost as a rehearsal. The shows offered a chance for family and close friends to see John and his band do what they loved, as well as served as a rehearsal. It kept the Maine entertained during their long breaks, while also making sure the band didn't get too rusty during their time off.

Unlocking the phone, he typed out a text to his younger brother, asking if Ross was coming to the show. He had never missed a hometown show, and had even travelled for quite a few out of state gigs. They were small actions that John truly appreciated, although often went unacknowledged.

John knew he had been an awful older brother recently, but he just didn't have the energy or motivation to try and change his ways.

Waiting for a reply from his brother, John made his way back into his bedroom, making sure the blinds were drawn to keep out the unwanted sunlight. However, when his phone vibrated signalling a reply, it was not exactly what John had been expecting.

'I don't know, John. I'm growing tired of this.'

He scowled down at the LED screen, unsure of what his brother meant. He knew he had stretched his brother's patience thin, but he never expected that. They were family after all.

The Maine was all John felt he had left these days, his brother just couldn't give up on him like that. Maybe Ross was just bitter about showing up to take care of him every night, not that he had the right to be. After all, John never asked him to. He didn't have the right to be mad about something if he was the one who wanted to do it.

He couldn't possibly still be mad about John showing up piss drunk to his college graduation. He had barely made a scene, and that was almost 6 months ago.

John bitterly typed back a reply to his brother, pressing send before venturing back into the kitchen and grabbing a beer from the fridge. Coffee had don't nothing to calm him down or soothe his hangover, and the thought of Ross abandoning the one thing John still had going for him was driving him crazy.

He reread the text he had sent to his brother as he gulped back the beer, desperate to calm his nerves.

'Please. I need you there. If not for me, then for the band.'

John set his phone, and now empty beer, onto the small bedside table, now desperate to curl back up into bed. Not bothering to change into more comfortable clothes, John crawled back into his bed, pulling the covers up overtop os his head. Burying his face into the pillows, John shut his eyes tightly, a futile attempt to fall back asleep.

He needed to be well rested for their show later that night, and he needed to shake this hangover as soon as possible. But all John saw when he closed his eyes was Cali staring back at him.

The one thing John would never let her ruin was his music, but it was getting more and more difficult each day.