C'Mon, Would It Really Be So Bad?

Skinny Dipping

For the next week or so I learned how Ed deals with breakups. I watched him go into a downward spiral. He wouldn't talk about it and tried to cover up his sadness with booze. He thought he was making himself come off as being totally fine and happy to be a single man again, but he wasn't fooling anyone. 

It was bad at first. As soon as he woke up, he started drinking beers and pouring himself shots. He was fucked up during interviews and press, so his manager Stewart was snapping at him constantly to just sit there, smile and say as little as humanly possible. Stewart or someone would make excuses to cut the interview short. Ed was drunk during his sets and as soon as the show was over, he would insist on finding a nearby club to go to. 

Dudes handle things a lot differently than girls do. When I expressed my concerns, everyone sort of just shrugged like they were saying it was no big deal and that it was just his way of dealing with what he was going through. I wanted him to be going out and having fun and not thinking about that bitch Rebecca. At least he wasn't just laying in his bed and crying all day. I figured he would slow down eventually and that it was best to just let him be for the time being. 

No one would let him wander around by himself shitfaced, so I always volunteered to go with him and keep an eye on him while he stumbled around attempting to dance and make out with random girls. And then I would stand outside the bathroom while he puked and steer him back to his bus when it was time to leave. 

I went along with this for a week with no questions and no judgments. But it seemed like he was only getting worse and drinking more. I wanted to do something to help him. Also, to be honest, we were all getting really sick of his shit. Oversleeping, not sleeping at all, being loud and obnoxious, not changing clothes, being rude to everyone...we were all miserable. 

So one night after a show I tried to intercept him after he left the stage to head for his green room, which was always full of booze. This had been his MO lately. He didn't look at anyone or talk to anyone when he got off stage - he just ignored everyone and made his way straight to his room, locking the door behind him. He didn't want anyone talking to him about the show or anything to do with business. He wanted to drink in isolation before finding a place to go out to that night. 

"Hey!" I said a bit too brightly. "Do you wanna hang out? We're off tomorrow."

He kept walking but looked at me like I was the stupidest person in the world. "Hang out?" he slurred. "You can come to the club with me. Like you always do."

"No, I mean something different for a change. Like, just me and you." He didn't respond, so I started naming random stuff off the top of my head. 

"We could walk around the city and check it out."

He shook his head.

"We could have a movie marathon like old times? Horribly cheesy 80's horror movies." 

"No."

We had reached the door of his dressing room and he went in without even holding it open for me. But he didn't lock it or tell me to get out, so I took that as a good sign. He walked right over to a small table and grabbed an unopened bottle of tequila. He was tearing the seal off when I took it from him. I held it away as he kept trying to reach for it. 

"How about swimming? Since tomorrow's an off day we're staying at that hotel tonight. Remember?"

He was getting so annoyed with me. "A hotel pool? What are you even talking about?? What are you trying to do, Sam!?"

"Nothing, I'm trying to hang out with you, dude!"

"Why are you trying to stop me from going out??"