[AustinCarlile] Only Baby Scars

Twelve.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Craig screams. If he yells any louder, I'm sure he’s going to lose his voice from all the strain. Hell, if we were in a cartoon he would have a red face with steam shooting out of his ears.

If I wasn’t so drained emotionally I would have laughed at the thought. Craig, he looks so harmless, and to think of him with steam coming out of his ears is almost comical. Instead I shrug my shoulders. “There was no helping him, Craig. He didn’t want to be helped and he couldn’t be forced into getting help. Austin doesn’t care if he loses his career like Danny did.”

It’s coming. I know it is. He can only tolerate so much from me and I don’t think that me leaving during the biggest public relations scandal is something that he can handle.

I lost my mother to Austin’s family. I lost my job to Austin. Hell, I lost my sanity to Austin.

In the past week I've called my sponsor more times than I have in the past six months. That’s a scary thought. To know that someone has so much influence over me. He made it so hard to function that I felt that I had to drink. God, I just wanted to do my job.

I was so good at it. I loved my job. Working to fix people’s mistakes made me feel important. Plus, it was fun being the boss of people who thought they were above rules. It was satisfying.

“Pierce, you left during a huge relations deal!” He throws his hands up in the air as if he doesn’t know what to do with me. Honestly, I don’t care what he’s going to do. “What the fuck, Pierce? Do you know how unprofessional that is? How could you leave our biggest client without a PR agent when he’s going to court for a hearing? What the hell were you thinking?”

Water fills my eyes and I know that I shouldn’t be crying. This is my choice and I knew that I would be scolded. It’s all on me and I need to deal with the consequences. It still doesn’t feel good to be yelled at for something I think is good for me. It wasn’t good for me to be there. I know that he had alcohol on the bus. There was no way that he was going to listen to my no alcohol rule. Craig wouldn’t care if I left because I was tempted to be drinking and that I was close to a mental breakdown.

Professionals don’t deal with those issues.

God, my father. What the hell am I supposed to tell my father?

And my apartment. If I have no money coming in I can’t pay rent. I mean, I have money saved but it’s saved so I don’t spend it. If I spend that money then I really don’t have any money.

“Craig, I'm sorry that I put the label in this position.” I may deal with issues that professionals shouldn’t be dealing with, but I sure as hell can speak like a professional. “My reasons are personal and I don’t believe that you will accept the reasons even if I tell you them.”

Shaking his head, he runs his hands through his hair, gripping onto the ends and tugging. “That’s it, Pierce. I can’t overlook this. You're fired.” He doesn’t even look at me when he says it. Instead, he stares out the window and walks away without waiting for my response, not that it would change his mind.

I nod my head even though there’s no one here to see it. The door to my office was slammed shut after Craig left, leaving no more onlookers. Sitting down in my chair, or the chair, since it’s no longer mine, I bite down on my lower lip. Just two weeks ago I was the best public relations agent in this business, and now I'm jobless. There’s no way Craig is going to write me a recommendation now.

But this business changed.

For a long time it was all about sex, drugs, and rock. It’s a cliché, but that’s what it was all about. And then, for a while, after so many great musicians started to die from overdoses or from choking on their vomit when they were intoxicated beyond belief, people just focused on the rock.

There’s nothing that I know better than how easy it is to have fun without alcohol or drugs or anything like that. I mean, drugs are different than alcohol and I've never taken drugs so I don’t know personally how addictive they are. But if you need something like an illegal substance to make you have fun while doing something then you shouldn’t be doing that something in the first place.

God, he’s such a jackass. His band became him. Interviewing the band meant interviewing him. His wants were more important than the band’s needs.

I was just a bitch to him during high school. When his mom died, I just stopped looking at him. But I know that he’s not smart enough to think that I would quit my job as if it’s revenge.

Not that it matters anymore. Who the hell cares if it was all revenge?

Placing my hands on the armrests, I push myself up, realizing that nothing in this office is really mine. All of the office supplies are things that I don’t need. There aren’t any pictures or posters or anything personal in the office that I need to pack to take home.

“The judge acquitted him!” I can hear Craig screaming it to everyone on the floor.

And I really wish that I just had a fucking shot of vodka.