The whole car ride to the airport was spent in silence. Why the hell should I talk to Dad? He's the one making me go to the middle of freckin nowhere.
"It will be a good change of scenery." My ass. He's just saying that to justify sending me off to Montana. I sunk down lower into the leather seat and turned up the radio. Dad didn't say anything, he just focused on road. Sure he said it hurts him to see his middle child suffer like this, but it's the only way. But did Nick or Kevin convince him to let me stay? No. I bet they probably brought it up. Sure, I may have been acting like a jerk lately, but I am their brother. Shouldn't they want me to stay? To help me themselves? No. No one in my family wants to help me. Instead they are sending me and my quote-on-quote "problems" to Montana so Uncle Ethan and Aunt Alexa could deal with my "rock-star" habits.
I guess it all started 2 years ago when we finally got discovered. We were living the perfect life we always wanted. We covered the teen magazines and we were friends with everyone. But one of those "friends" started my problems. Since we all work for Disney, it was amatter of time until we met Miss. Montana. Who knew under the blond wig and pop songs, there was a bad girl waiting to escape? Nick fell head-over-heels and soon she became a staple of our touring. We had little parties in our rooms, and thats when she introduced me to the world of Grey Gooses and Jose Curveos. It was easy at first, a couple of foul-tasting shots. Then it moved on to half-bottles, full-bottles, 3 bottles. I started feeling the rockstar life. Early mornings filled with hangovers and late nights filled with booze and fuzzy thoughts. Kevin and Nick took to the whole life a lot easier then me. They were lightweights and took just a few shots. But, they covered my drunkass so why should I complain? I guess I wasn't completely satisfied with my life, so I drank even more, filling up the hole I felt deep down. I dated and dumped chicks, showed up already drunk to photoshoots, and we had to cancel some shows for "illness" which meant I was puking out my brains. Then a month or so ago, I really blew it. Mom and Dad were nagging about my "habits" and Nick and Kevin were offically excluding me. Fed up, I took the keys to my Mustang and drove to only place I knew I could feel comfort. Sure, she is my little brother's girlfriend, but she had an endless supply of what I needed. We sat in her living room for hours doing nothing but drinking. Drinking away the pain I felt. I stupidly grabebd my keys and "drove" home. My drive home consisted of ramming my car into a few trees and ending up almost losing my life. The tabloids were all over the story of my "troubled" life and how I changed from pure-Christian boy to the guy I am now. The police couldn't prove I was way over the legal limit, so I got away with a warning and some community service. My injuries were pretty bad. I had a few broken ribs, lots of purple and black brusies, and one deep scractch across my chest. Doctors said if the cut was any deeper I could have died. But, "lucky" me I didn't. No, I end up living and going to Montana to detox.
"Son, look at this as something good. God is giving you another chance. Take it and show Him exactly what good you can do." I know Dad used to be a Preacher, but didn't he know I gave up on God a long time ago? I guess I gave up on Him when the hole kept eating up everything in my life. "Alexa and Ethan will be giving you a weekly allowance and you will be going to some AA meetings there. Hopefully by the end of the summer, you will come back to us a whole different man."
"Whatever." What was I supposed to say to him? I love you Dad and I will for sure comeback a whole new man! I think, not. He shifted himself in the drivers seat and unlocked the door.
"Remember, any slip up and it's real rehab." Oh yes, the ever so popular threat. Rehab at the moment is the least of my worries. Didn't Dad know I haven't even really thought about drinking again? I guess since the accident and me "cheating" death, I figured out that drinking isn't what I want, death is. But, I think this will be to much on poor old Dad's heart.
"I know. " I got out and slammed the door. That must be the perfect Hollywood goodbye everyone hopes for. I grabbed my suitcases and head off to security and my flight. On coach. I guess hell offically starts now.
Hey this is my first story in awhile. So comment me if it is truly horrible. =] Thanks!
3 Danica