My band mates found me outside, up chucking my cookies in the fifthly alley behind the dressing room. They knew I had a shitty past, part guessed part told. Thus they knew to leave me alone when I was like this. I knew I was pushing my luck with them. After three years of living together I could tell that they were getting tired of my bullshit. I fingered the only reason why the didn't send me to the curb was the couldn't replace me, and I know it's not like they haven't tired. They found me around the greyhound bus station at one am three years ago. I guess they thought I could save their ass musically and make us all fucking rich. I couldn't.
"Jesus Jack, couldn't you wait till after the show to have a breakdown."
"Yah man, what's the fuck wrong with man"
"I didn't fuckin break down John".
"Bullshit Jack, you froze man. I bet you were thinking about your pretty brothers. You're such a fuckin ---"
At this time I had him in a by the neck pinned against the wall, in my other hand I had my forty-five pointed at our drummer. I no longer felt sick, I had something to accomplish. The only sound that filled the air, was white noise. I just snapped, all that pent up anger found it's escape. I was scared. How did it come to this, the only home I had now was ruined over some bullshit. I drop John and put down the gun. What's the fuckin point anyways? I continued walking away.
"Fuck you Jack, we never wanted your mother fucken skinny ass with to begin with. You just got lucky you asshole. "
Screw then I thought. I got over to our apartment, figuring that I had some time to grab my shit together, steal some money and split. But to where? I had a crappy day job, but it's not like that would keep a roof over my head. Shit, what was I going to do? I passing the living room with my shit in my left hand, thinking if there was one that I could get a hold of that help me out. I felt like calling Ma, but then I felt cowardly about that. I left my Ma by herself, without telling her good-bye. Would she still want to talk to me if I called, would she hate me? All I knew was I couldn't live on the streets again, I just couldn't… The phone was staring at me, as if it was encouraging me to pick it up and call my own mother. It was just sitting there. Just expected me to pick it up and… FUCK IT, I reached over and called.
Ring…Ring…Ring…Ring…Ring …
The fucking phone just rung and rung. I took it as a signal that I was dead to them. It wasn't like they need me anyways…
"What the fuck do you want?" And on went the voice that scared the shit out of me when I was younger. I did what any traumatized kid did when he frighten. I regressed into my childish ways; which for me meant hyperventilating into the phone. I really forgot about everything else but Bobby and what he would do to me once he found me…
"Do you think that this is funny mother fucker. Prank calling at four in the fucking morning. Do you know who I am? I'll fucking ---"
"Bobby?" At this point I was shaking all over. I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears. My entry life I've lived in shit-ass places, but Bobby was only able to scare me this bad. I was wonder why on Earth I decided to open my mouth. I should have played the dumb ass pranker. At this hour I doubt he would be able to tell the difference between my panting and someone else's. Hell, I was probably over reacting at this point. I doubt Bobby would remember what my voice sounded like. It wasn't like he was always around. Plus he hasn't said anything in over a minute. Silence
"Jackie Boy, is that really you?" He sounded scared or some other weird emotion that I haven't heard before in his voice.
Naturally I reversed into hyperventilating into the phone again. I guess that was the answer that he was accepted because he let out a sound that was between a cry and a laugh. I was scared shitless at this point. There was a hand full times that I heard that sound. I eventually got my ass whip, badly.
"Jackie Boy it's really you. Jesus Fucken Christ."
Silence, then more panting from me. I couldn't control it, honestly. He was probably disgusted with me.
"Come on Jackie, say some please."
"…"
"I promise I'm not angry at you, please just calm down. Just tell me were you are. I'll come and get you."
I heard noisy footsteps coming through the main gate. Then I remember I had to get the fuck out if I want keep what little I had."
"Jackie say something? Are you in trouble man. Please man, I'm here. I'm not angry."
I built-up some nerve, "I love you Bobby, but I've to go before it's too late. Sorry."
I hung up the phone, took my shit I jumped over the balcony before the front door open. They never even knew I was there, thankfully.
Bobby's Point of View:
I can't believe that Jackie, my Jackie is still alive. Shit he sounded like he was in trouble. Well no shit my brain screamed at me, why else would my baby bro call a, Jesus, four in the fucken morning. Shit shit shit. I don't think I could go through losing him again. I don't think any of us could. Where the fuck did he call from anyways… I'm getting too old for this shit…Fuck it…
I look at the area code, and I didn't fuckin recognized where it was from. It was on the tip of my tongue. I sat their on my bed for a good ten minutes thinking… Shit that's where Angel called when he was in Hollywood last year. I smirked, thinking I should call and wake he's ass up. It's only fair, plus I don't think he'll mind once he hears the news. With a cig, I called him on his base in San Diego. After five minutes of ringing, someone answered. That someone was a male. Maybe Jackie wasn't the fag in the family after all.
"Who the fuck is this?"
"Why it's Angel's big bro sweetheart."
"I ain't your fucken sweetheart."
"Just pass the phone to Angel."
"He's sleepy jackass. We all were sleeping."
"Shit, how many dicks do you have it that fucking bed."
"This is a fucking dormitory asshole."
"Geez, Sorry. Can you go get Angel on the fucking phone now?"
"Do know what time we have to get up? Four in the ---"
"I don't give a shit Wake Angel up, tell him Bobby's on the phone and it's about Jack and I leave you the fuck alone…"
"Whatever man." That better be a yes asshole I thought.
"Bobby, is that you."
Damn that's quick I though. Usually it takes him ten minutes to get up at this hour for some ass. I guess family still has some impact. "Yeah it's me… Jackie called half an hour ago."
"Shit. Is he ok. Where the fuck is he? When ---"
"He's in trouble. I don't know from what or why, but shit I can't let him go again." I was feeling extremely depressed at this point; I just realized that that could be the last time I could ever hear he's voice again and here I was dicking with one of Angel's dorm mates. Shit
"I know bro, is there anything I could do to help."
"Yeah you can. He called from Hollywood; I can give you the number later. If your jarhead officer let's you go, can you go find him. I can't fly out because I'm on probation."
"Can Jerry or Ma fly out?"
"Sure, but I don't they can actually do shit. It would just be wasting time."
"Shit, Fucking A. Bobby … I'm going to talk to my C.O. Wait by the phone, I doubt that the answer it is going to be a yes."
"Fuckin A Angel."
