"Hi, it's me, again. Listen you deserve an explanation, please just pick up and I'll tell you everything, it's not as bad as your imagination is letting itself believe it is, just allow me to explain. Please. Er, yeah, bye" to replay this voicemail, press one.

"To save this voicemail, two. Or to permanently delete this voicemail, press three."

I hit number three and throw my cell phone on the table.

"Sup, big brother!" Mike yells as he stumbles out of his bedroom in only his boxers.

"Mike, dude, it's only ten am" I state.

"And?"

"You're drunk. Why are you fucking drunk at ten am?" I snap and he staggers over to the refrigerator and pulls out the milk, he twists off the cap and begins chugging it. After a few seconds he brings the bottle down and spits the milk all over the floor, screwing up his face in distaste.

"This isn't fucking whiskey" he mumbles eyeing up the bottle. I shake my head, hoping this is a nightmare and that I'll wake up any second now and nothing bad will have ever happened. I lean my head back and close my eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to clear my head before I stand up and clean up the mess I know Mike is incapable of cleaning—given his state right now.

I'm on my knees, cleaning up the spilt milk. I thought of just going all 'Big Daddy' on the situation and just covering it in newspaper but I knew I couldn't really do that.

"Hey, you got a light?" Mike asks, leaning against the counter for support, I look up at him with an are-you-fucking-serious look on my face but he just keeps staring at me expectantly waiting for an answer.

"No. I don't fucking smoke" I say, my tolerance wearing thin.

"Vic, relax man, its cool, its cool" he smiles and I want to bang my head repeatedly off of the floor "Have a joint, you need to relax, here" he hands me an unlit joint and I just stare at him.

"Substance abuse? Really Mike?" I stand and grab my phone from the table and walk past him.

"It'll help you forget, Vic. It makes me happy" I just keep walking, heading towards the back where the bunks are, I picture him shrugging like its not a big deal but it's a big deal to me. Mike hasn't been sober in weeks, Hazel has been calling none stop since I ran out of her place four days ago, the house is completely trashed from a party Mike threw a couple of days ago, so I decided to just move into the RV we still haven't given back yet—that way Mike can live in the house and throw as many parties, fuck as many girls and get as wasted as he likes and I can rot alone in the RV. Everyone is happy.

If only we were really happy.

I hop into the bunk I used to sleep in when we were on tour and sigh heavily, rubbing my eyes. Fuck this is all too much.

My ringtone begins to play and I check the screen to see who's calling—Hazel. I groan and put the phone next to me, letting it ring and ring, enjoying my ringtone. I can't talk to her right now, I just can't. I mean, she lost her parents and she has a huge shrine in her house for them...is that what I am going to be like in four years? The thought makes me shudder, no, I couldn't, I wouldn't, I won't.

The sadness will never end, but I will never let my sorrow get that bad, its fucked up. I notice the phone has stopped ringing and it makes a little dinging sound to show I have a voicemail. Another one. I look up at the wood above me as I listen to it and smile at all the stickers I stuck to it while we were on our last tour. Most of them say stupid things like 'boobies' and 'A balanced diet: a whiskey in each hand' but each sticker has a memory behind it and I feel a little hint of nostalgia make its way into my body, making my heart feel even heavier than it already does—if that's even possible.
"Please Vic, I can explain. Just let me explain for god sake-" I stop listening and end the voice mail and dial her number.

"Vic" she exhales relieved as she answers on the fourth ring.

"Er, hi" I reply, not really sure what I'm supposed to say, just knowing I need her.

"Let me explain okay, when I was-"

"Hey Vic, this girl just sent me her boobs! I have no idea who she is but look here" Mike shoved his phone in my face.

"Mike will you fuck off? Go back in the house or something, I'm busy" I dismiss him and shove his phone out of my face"

"I don't want to go back in the house, its lonely" he says sadly, his eyes are red and bloodshot and his hands are shaking. I close my eyes and take a breath, real slow.

"Okay, well will you please go sit in the back lounge or something?" I ask, he cants his head to the side as if he's pondering on the idea and then finally he shrugs.

"Yeah sure whatever" he says and I feel relief wash over me as he stumbles his way to the back lounge.

"Um...sounds like you're pretty busy there, do you just want to meet up later or something?" Hazel says after a minute of silence, honestly I forgot she was even on the phone.

"Yeah, sure, that works for me. I'll text you a place" she says alright and hangs up. I rub my eyes, trying to rid them from exhaustion, I've done nothing but sleep these past four days but the tiredness never ceases.

I roll off my bunk and head to the kitchen area to grab a drink and some painkillers for my headache that never seems to leave

"Mike?" I yell, wondering where the hell he's gone. I head towards the back lounge which is where I told him to go "Mike?" I ask again, nothing. Something in my gut tells me something isn't right. "Mike?" I shout more frantically even though I know I don't need to because if he was in the back lounge he'd be able to hear me without shouting.

I draw back the curtain and gasp, he's laid on his back, in a pool of his own vomit, passed out. "Fuck sakes" I mutter heading over to him. I shake him slightly but he doesn't stir or move.

"Mike, get the fuck up. Please." I sigh and shake harder he stirs a little and then opens his eyes a couple of centimetres.

"I feel like shit" he groans and closes his eyes.

"Come on, up you get" I grab him under the arms and try my best to pick him up but he's a dead weight "Er, a little help Mike" I say with a strained voice as all my strength is going into pulling him up. He flops his feet around a little trying to find his footing, eventually he stands up straight. I wrap his arm round my shoulder and wrap my arm round his waist and walk slowly towards his bunk, letting him lean on me the whole way.

"There you go buddy" I say as he lays down in his bunk "Lay on your side though, you know, in case you puke" he nods lazily and rolls onto his side "I'll be back in a couple of hours" I smile as I turn and head off of the RV—check me out pulling off playing the big brother for a change, usually I fail at being caring.

Hazel texts me and tells me to just come over to her house instead of meeting somewhere, I'm a little hesitant but I agree. Just as long as I don't have to go in that room again. I shudder at the thought.

"Hi..." She murmurs looking down shyly as she opens the door to let me in, I stand on the doorstep hesitantly for a moment or two, my hands buried in my pockets and my gaze wandering anywhere but upon her.

"Hi" I reply quietly. Well this is awkward.

"Er, come in" she mutters stepping aside and I walk slowly past her, a little afraid for some unknown reason. She closes the door behind me and I can't keep my eyes off of the door at the end of the hall, that creepy room is just behind that door. The pictures flash through my mind, blood, water, a bridge, bodies, dead fucking bodies.

"Would you like marshmallows in your cocoa?" She asks over her shoulder and I reply with yes, just so she'll take a little longer and our chat can be stalled a little longer.

I mean, why is she even making cocoa? This whole situation is weird.

"Here" she smiles weakly as she puts the cup of cocoa down in front of me and takes a seat opposite me at the table.

"Thanks" I say—I don't even like cocoa. "I'm really sorry for running out of here the other day, it was pretty shit of me to do that" I look down ashamed, meaning what I'm saying.

"No, it's fine, I understand" she replies and adds "It's pretty strange, I get it, I'd have acted the same" her forgiveness makes me feel even more guilty than I already do, I shouldn't have ran out, I should have been as understanding as she is.

"Can I ask what happened to your parents?" I feel bad enquiring but I feel like I need to know. She closes her eyes and I swear I see her wince slightly—nice one, Vic.

"I don't know if I can talk about it. I've never really tried to talk about it" my heart swells for. It's weird seeing her so vulnerable, she's usually always happy and smiling.

Just goes to shown that not everybody is what they seem.

Notes

I had to split this into two parts because it was FAR too long. So the next part will be up very soon :) and its going to be juiiiicyyyy hahaha!

Apologies for this kind of turning into a filler chapter, but the next one should make up for it!