They all drink. It's not something they think about. In the evening, sometimes when they're not going out too, and just staying in on the tour bus, the beers come out.
And each of them is a different sort of drunk. Dougie goes quite sleepy, heavy eyes drooping earlier than the others. Tom starts teasing, but loses his understanding of when a joke is pushed too far. Danny becomes affectionate, hugging the others and laughing more than ever. And Harry...well.
They think it might be because of his old school, where you had to stick up for yourself or risk becoming the school wimp, but whatever it is, it scares them more than they'd like to admit, because Harry is strong, and when he's had too much to drink, he gets snarky and, well, violent.
At first it was funny, and they used to joke that his eyes went red when he drank, because he always just seemed on the edge of losing it, but then they realised that it could be damaging.
The first time it went further than just angry words was halfway through their first headline tour. They'd been in the bus, parked at a service station, and they'd been drinking, celebrating the great show. Dougie was curled in the corner with Danny's arm around him, watching the others talk without joining in much. Danny had been joking about, and had been doing ridiculous impressions of their manager to entertain the others, before flopping back down after making Tom actually cry with laughter. It was after that though, and Tom and Harry were beginning to get at each other again.
They never got on as well as the others, because they were both so headstrong and didn't want to back down. Tom had been making little niggling comments about Harry's past, his appearance and his playing all night, and they could tell that it was getting to the danger levels.
"If only we had someone who could do that kind of drum riff," Tom said, seeming absent-minded, but the glint in his eye as he took another swig from his bottle giving him away.
"Tom..." Danny said warningly as Harry clenched his hands into fists several times, but Tom was enjoying himself, being able to take out his frustrations on Harry.
"Don't you think, Danny, that it would be great if we had someone as good as we are behind the kit? God, I could play better than tha-"
Harry launched himself at Tom, punching him hard in the jaw, knocking him down onto the sofa. Danny was up and pushing Harry back almost instantly, Dougie frozen in shock for only a second before going to Tom, who was sitting up. The look of shock on his face would almost be comical, if it wasn't for the red mark blooming into purple on his chin.
"What the hell, Harry!" Danny said, still standing in between him and Tom. If looks could kill, he would have been in the firing line of two sets of eyes glaring at each other.
"You heard him! I suppose you're on his side! Wish that you had some guy who could do all sorts of fancy things!" Harry said, voice rising as he stared at Danny.
"No, of course not. We chose you, and Dougie, because we thought that you were the best for the job. Maybe there are some parts that you can't do yet, but you can learn them, and you're a fine player as it is now," Danny says, looking straight at Harry while he keeps his voice even and calm.
"I suppose you're on his side," Harry says accusingly, turning to Dougie now, who's still sitting beside Tom, but stands up at his words.
"No, actually," Dougie says, going back to his original place and sitting down again. "I think he was wrong to say those things, but I think you were wrong to hit out."
"But –" Tom says, speaking for the first time and wincing at the movement.
"No. He's right, Tom," Danny says, turning back to Tom. "Even though Harry shouldent've hit you, you probably deserved it."
"I'm going to bed," Harry says, pushing past Danny and going to the bunks. They hear the sound of his curtain closing, and know that they won't see him until the next morning.
"You can't be like this," Danny says, turning to Tom, looking at him steadily. "You know what Harry's like when he drinks, and there's no need to wind him up like that."
"But he doesn't try! He doesn't care," Tom grumbles, looking like a grumpy child, crossing his arms and sulking.
"He does," Dougie says seriously, looking at Tom.
"Look, I know that you're friends with him and stuff, but he just swaggers around thinking he's so much better! He never practices like the rest of us do!"
"You're wrong," Dougie says, standing up. "My room's next door to his. I can hear him practicing at night when he thinks we're asleep, over and over."
"But..." Tom stutters, thrown by the news. "Why didn't he say? If he was doing stuff then why does he not do it during the day when I can see?"
Dougie groans and throws his hands in the air. "Because you're always going on at him all the time!" he says, as if it should be obvious. "He doesn't want to give you the satisfaction when you're such a dick all the time!"
Tom's mouth hangs open, truly shocked for once. "I never knew..."
"Yeah, well, he didn't want you to. I'm going to bed too," Dougie says, looking tired again all of a sudden, pushing his hand through his fringe. He goes through the back lounge, and they can hear him saying goodnight softly to Harry before he climbs into his own bunk.
"Me too. Put something cold on your jaw, or it'll be worse in the morning," Danny says, heading the same way, but pausing and turning in the doorway. "I mean it. One day Harry won't remember to stop, and I won't be there to do anything. I've known you longer than the others, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to always be on your side."
With that he turns, and goes to bed. Tom lets his head fall back against the bus window, wishing he would control his mouth more.