This Is Who We AreMature

I paced back and forth taking quick drags from my cigarette, it had been 3 hours since I had drank the gin and I was already having withdrawal symptoms. I felt shit after our performance, so bad that I had rushed away from the others, avoiding conversation. I had found a quiet part of the camp, no where near the buses or the stage, it was pitch black, walking to it reminded me of getting drunk, the further I walked away from people the darker and quieter it got, like drinking, the more you drink the more alone you get to be. Happy as I was in my dark I wanted to get out of the camp, find a bar and get absolutely pissed or find that mysterious roadie who had all the weed and get completely stoned. I finished my cigarette and threw the butt on the ground, I didn't know what to do with myself now, searching for the roadie seemed the only thing worthwhile. I began walking back towards the camp, hoping I didn't bump into anyone, although that would be near to impossible, no doubt Jack was hanging around looking for me and knowing my luck I would bump into Ryan. So I tip toed through the shadows, taking a route that brought me in between the portaloos and dumpsters, I held my breath as I stepped quietly around the filth, congratulating myself on remembering to wear shoes. Some gravel crunched behind me and I could see beams of a car's headlights coming up the rear, I dived into one of the toilets and locked the door. Back in the dark with shit and piss. I couldn't help but giggle, Adam would find this adventure hilarious. I heard voices and car doors opening and closing, the smell of Chinese food filled the air and suddenly I was starving. I considered heading back to the bus, food would be amazing right now. Then I remembered my goal, weed and alcohol equals John. Food could wait. After waiting for what felt like 5 minutes I opened the door slowly and peeked out, no one in sight. I stepped out of the toilet, glad to get away from the smell and whatever was sliding around under my foot. I made my way towards the roadie's vans, I had no idea which was the one I was looking for so I stood tapping my foot and playing a little game of eenie meenie, I didn't need to complete the game because my sense of smell soon let me know where to go. After five eager and loud knocks on the trailer door it finally opened, the roadie's head poked out, dreadlocks and smoke encasing his face.
"Yo man", he said dosily.
I rolled my eyes, typical.
"I need some supplies", I said coldly.
"Tight, come in", was the reply.
I blinked slowly before following him, there was no way this guy was for real. I couldn't help cough a little after I shut the door, the place was coated in smoke. I followed him to the back where he had flopped down on the couch. He offered me his bong, I found myself declining, something about sharing something his lips had touched didn't appeal to my abusive nature.
"What can I help you with man", he asked with some kind of jamaican accent.
"Just need something to get me high", I answered folding my arms, I did not want to be friends with this guy.
"I got the perfect ting" he said as he went over to a cupboard.
I frowned, "ting",  the absent "h" confused me. He was almost comical, as white as me, blonde dreadlocks, ridiculous looking hemp clothing, I didn't know whether he was making fun of rastafarians or just delusional. He probably grew up in Suburbia in a middle-class family and never wanted for anything.
"Here you go man", he said turning and handing me a quarter bag of weed, "I also got dis stuff, send you outta dis world".
He showed me a small bag of white powder. I took it and held it up to the light.
"Cocaine?", I said cocking an eyebrow.
"NO MAN!", he exclaimed waving his hands, "I don' deal da shit".
His accent was really starting to bother me.
"What is it then?".
"Ketamine man".
I had heard of ketamine, a hallucinagetic drug. Horse tranquilizer.
"How much for both?", I asked.
He scratched his head and looked around, like now was the time to check if we were alone.
"$45", he replied.
"$35", I said handing him the money before he could haggle, "and not a word to anyone".
"Hey man, same to you!".
"Shut up for fuck sake", I snapped.

I stared at my bag of weed and my bag of ketamine for a good 20 minutes before deciding to smoke a joint or two, I would save the other stuff for a special night. I fished some skins out of my back pocket and rolled three, an extra one in case I felt like it. I had grabbed a bottle of wine from the roadies trailer as I had left, he didn't notice. He was too busy practicing his ridiculous accent.
"Wine and weed", I said to myself, "you're so classy Erin".

Adam's POV
"Excuse me sir", she said as she collided with a lampost.
I sighed and climbed down from the bus. She had struck up a conversation with the 'man'. A year ago I would have found this funny, I probably would have been there beside her chatting to him aswell.
"I heard the weather was to be nice for the next few days actually", she was saying in an angry tone, "well no need to be so rude!".
She stormed away from her imaginary friend and towards me, shaking her head in annoyance.
"What's wrong Erin?", I asked.
"That guy is such an asshole", she said sighing.
I nodded and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
"Wanna go to bed now?", I said, like I was talking to a child, "you seem a little tired".
Her knees buckled a bit while we walked, it was as though she had forgotten how to use them. She mumbled a little while swaying. Exhaustion, drugs and alcohol were not a clever mix. I swooped her up into my arms and climbed back into the bus, she didn't even acknowledge the fact she wasn't walking anymore, or notice when I lay her into her bunk. She was muttering away to herself, half asleep. I sat down on the floor beside her bunk and rested my head against the wall.
"It's funny though", she whispered.
"What is Erin?", I replied rubbing my eyes.
"It used to be the two of us".
I didn't respond, I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or to some other imaginary friend.
"Adam!?", she said a little louder.
"I'm talking to you", she groaned, "we used to be best friends".
"We still are Erin".
"Oh no no no", she pouted.
I couldn't help but smile a little at her expression.
"Now no one is my friend", she said, her eyes still shut tight.
"Don't say that", I frowned.
"No one loves me", she whined, "it's all my fault".
"Erin it's not...".
Suddenly her eyes shot open, a little bloodshot and swimming with tears.
"I'm going to stop Adam", she whispered, "I promise, I won't do anything wrong anymore. Just promise you'll always love me".
"I promise Erin", I replied.
"Promise you'll always be there for me".
"I promise".
"Promise you'll always plick knees over the bitch".
Her eyelids began to droop and sleep took over. Plick knees over the bitch would have to remain a mystery.

The End

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