Party 'til you pass out / When the party's over

1.7

'Oli?,' Patrick yelled later that night. It had finally stopped pouring, and I was laying in my bunk listening to the remaining drops dripping of the bus and the lads and Alison talking animatedly in the front lounge, playing a game of cards.

'What?,' I shouted back. I felt bad; the reviews on the internet had shot a dent in my already unstable self-confidence, my ketamine stash was nihil and I was tired and not feeling well.

'Come over, I need to talk to you.' Grunting, I rolled out of my bunk and slouched towards Patrick, who sat at the small dining table, scrolling his laptop. His face looked serious and I got this uneasy feeling that I knew of what was to come. 'Have you checked Twitter, or the sites of Altpress and Rock Sound lately?'

'Eh...' I scratched my neck and kept my hand resting there, debating whether to sit down or just keep standing there, with all eyes on me. Eventually, I sat down. 'Yeah...'

'And?'

'And what?,' I asked a little challenging. Patrick sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed his face.

'Have you seen the reviews?' Yes.

'No?'

'Well, you better read up, 'cause they're not that positive.' I frowned and played with my sleeve, not looking at anyone. I felt the rest was watching me too, their gaze burning my skin.

'Why? What do they say?,' I asked, already knowing the answer. Patrick scraped his throat and put his glasses back on, looking at his laptop screen and reading through the reviews.

'They say that you look bad, like you're sick. You look tired, high and it feels like you're rushing your performance just to get off stage as quickly as possible. Your stage performance is decreasing in quality, fans write you are distant and different at meet and greets, you lack energy and you seem off.' He looked at me. 'Do I need to go on?'

I shook my head in silence. 'Is there a reason for your behaviour lately?' I shook my head again.

'Not that I know of,' I muttered, trying to ignore the huge craving for some booze and drugs. Patrick sighed and rubbed his face.

'Look, lads... I know that touring is exhausting and it takes a lot from you, besides it being awesome and giving you energy at the same time. I also know that touring is not only about performing, but also about partying and making friends and doing stupid things. Just don't let it be the reason why you're lacking performing as you should. Oli, I don't know what's up with you, but you need to step up your game, mate. Go for it. We have four more weeks to go, so give it your all. Come on, bud. Don't let us down.' Patrick's face was serious, but there was a fatherly, caring tone in his voice. I nodded and bit my lip, still not looking up to anyone. I hated being spoken to in front of others, especially about any problems I was causing. Also, knowing Patrick knew about the bad reviews and noticing I was off too, made me feel even worse than I already did. 'Okay bud?'

'Yup.' I faked a smile and got up, high fiving Patrick's held out hand. 'Anything else?'

'Show's at three tomorrow, not two thirty,' Patrick said, already looking back at his laptop. Alison's eyes grew wide at that.

'But... I promised All Time Low to come look at their show,' she softly said. 'They play at a quarter past three.' She pouted and sank down the couch. 'Oh well...' I threw her a glance and rolled my eyes, walking back to the bunks and pulling my wallet out of my backpack.

'I'm going for a walk,' I announced to no one in particular as I walked past them. I welcomed the clean, fresh nightly air. I loved how it smelled after a heavy thunderstorm.

As I walked away from the bus, trying to avoid deep puddles in the dark, some small footsteps behind me made me look back.

'Ali...,' I grunted. I didn't want her to come with me, I wanted to be alone. To get some K.