Guess who's back, bitch! Yeah, yeah, if you even remember who I am. I wrote Slowly Declining, and I think that's what I'm best known for. I'm not sure if I ever stated my name in the past, but I go by Alex now, and I hope that can be respected. If you remember me, you know that the last anyone really heard of me was when a friend posted a chapter on Fourteen Days, stating that I had made a suicide attempt. I asked her to delete all of my stories, since they had been written during a fairly bad time in my life. This was over a year ago, and I've been doing a lot better. I hope to get back into writing, since it was one of the few things that brought me joy.

Thank you so much for reading this right now, and I would love to hear from you, either by review or PM. I missed this community, and I'm glad to be back.

This new story is going to be somewhat of a flashback to my first and most popular story, Slowly Declining. I've grown quite a bit as a writer, and I hope that this is better done than my previous. It's not going to be the exact same storyline though, so beware of plot twists.

I hope you enjoy, and I'd love to hear from you soon. Without further ado, this is Losing It All.

"Dude, are you dying?"

Rocky laughed slightly, his older brother Riker holding back his hair as he vomited. Between heaves, he responded. "I'm pregnant."

No, just the flu. Rocky thinks both he and Ross picked it up at their last show. They were in Maine...or maybe it was Washington. He's not sure. It doesn't matter anyway, when you're puking your guts out.

Ross had it much better than him, though. He'd puked like, once. Rocky's been throwing up almost constantly for two days. He's starving, but can't keep anything down, not even chicken broth. Their mom wanted to take Rocky to the doctor, since he's getting so dehydrated. But of course, like the man he is, he insisted that he could tough it out. Typical.

They had a show to play in just a couple of hours, and Riker was beginning to think they were going to have to call it off. That is unless the fans want to be puked on. He's not really getting anything up, anyway. It's mostly just stomach acid. "Rocky, I don't think you should play-"

"No, I'm fine." Rocky groaned, attempting to stand up. He wasn't topside for more than a few seconds before he leaned back over the toilet, spilling bile into the bowl. Tears leaked out of the guitarists eyes from lack of oxygen, and he wiped them away with the back of his hand.

"Okay, yep, we're cancelling. Mom! Rocky can't play the show!" Riker yelled despite his younger brother's protests. Their mom appeared in the doorway of the tour bus bathroom, and looked on worriedly at her son.

"I'll call the manager." She said finally, and turned to leave. Rocky protested, yelling as loud as his hoarse throat would allow.

"Mom, I'm fine. I'll be ready to play in just a m-" He was cut off by his stomach deciding to upchuck clear liquid all over the front of Riker's shirt. His older brother laughed, obviously grossed out.

"Dude!" Riker said, wiping at the front of his shirt with a piece of toilet paper. "You can't play, you'll soak everyone in the front row!" Their mom appeared in the door again, one hand holding the phone to her ear, the other making a motion at Riker.

"Shirt." She said. Riker slipped off his tee, and tossed it at her. She grabbed it out of the air, and nodded at the two of them, before walking away. Rocky whined disappointedly.

"You need the rest, dude. Seriously." Riker said, rubbing his younger brother's back. Rocky wiped at the sweat on his forehead, leaning against the bathroom wall. It seemed as if his puking had subsided, at least for the moment. His throat burned like fire, and he'd been sitting on his knees so long his legs had gone numb.

"Yeah, I guess. I just-" He paused to cough. "I just don't want to let the fans down." He said, closing his eyes, clearly exhausted. Riker patted his shoulder and stood up, offering his younger brother a hand.

"C'mon. Let's get you to bed." Riker said. Rocky gripped his hand, and was pulled to a standing position. He swayed on his feet, his vision blurring momentarily as all of the blood rushed back to his legs. Riker walked him carefully to the bunks. "You can sleep in mine. I don't want you to have to climb the ladder."

"Thanks." Rocky said as he gingerly sat on the edge of his brother's bunk. Riker helped him swing his legs onto the mattress, and pulled the blankets over his body. Rocky did have a fever, but he said that his hands and feet were freezing, so he wanted blankets anyway.

After Rocky was all settled in, Riker stood up, looking down at his sick brother. "Do you want some water, or tea maybe?" He asked. Rocky must have been really dehydrated, what with all the puking. His younger brother nodded.

Riker took the five steps it took to get into the kitchen, and filled up a glass of ice water. He brought it back, and passed it into Rocky's shaking hands. He downed it in a heartbeat, and looked thankfully at Riker as he went to refill it.

Ross poked his head out of his bunk. "We're not playing?" He asked, his throat dry and hoarse, his face flushed from the fever. Riker nodded.

"Yeah. You can go back to bed." He responded, handing Rocky his second glass of water. Ross laid back down, sighing thankfully.

Rocky isn't the star of this show. Ross had been sick too, just not as bad. The only reason he hasn't been puking a ton is because he doesn't keep trying to eat. He threw up one dinner, and that was all he needed to take a break from food for awhile. His muscles were achy, he felt light headed and dizzy, and he had a fever of 102 degrees. He was in no condition to be playing a show, neither was Rocky.

Riker went back into the kitchen, and got Ross a glass of water too. His younger brother thanked him, to which he only nodded. "Just don't get me sick." He joked.

Without a show to play, Riker wasn't sure what to do. So, he just sat himself down on the couch and pulled the laptop onto his legs. Opening up YouTube, he wa ready to fall asleep to stupid cat Vine compilations.

Okay, honest opinions? Please? I'm not that sure of myself anymore, and I'd love for someone to say hi, welcome me back, whatever. I hope you enjoyed, and I'll post the next one as soon as someone tells me to, pretty much. Uh, byeeeee!