“Bury These Days”
Copyright Fallon B. 2000

Kevin downed another beer. Which made it a total of twelve. A few drops dribbled out of the corner of his mouth and ran down his chin and made its way around his labret piercing. He wiped it away with his arm and sighed. Ever since the days of fame and fortune hit him he found himself in a bar. At least four days out of the week. He wasn’t just a social drinker. He was an alcoholic. His life consisted of two things, the band and beer. He spent his time in the studio, then in the bar. And the time he spent with the band and the studio began to lessen.
Brett, Carl and Jeff on the other hand were social drinkers. They rarely got out of hand. Unless it was a special occasion. And even then it didn’t always happen. It just depended on how they were feeling and how much they had to drink.
Not Kevin though, getting out of hand was an every day thing. Sometimes Brett just thought that Kevin was trying to live up to the old rock cliché of being a rock star meant you had to be an alcoholic. But these days in the music industry it doesn’t have to be like that. And many true musicians had proved that.
Kevin missed the meeting that day and really pissed all the guys off. Now they had to reschedule and he probably wouldn’t show up at that meeting either. It didn’t come as a surprise to Brett, Carl or Jeff. No wonder Robyn left Kevin. After the way he treated her. Like how he loved his beer more then he loved her. How he promised her was going to get better and then just got worse. It broke her heart to have to leave him, but it was just something she had to do.
Carl didn’t feel well that night and went to sleep when he got home. A few hours later he got a call from Kevin. It was one in the morning. He was at the bar, drunk.
“Uh, Carl, can you come and get me?” Kevin asked, slurring his words.
Carl sighed.
“Yeah, I’ll be there in like…twenty minutes.”
“Thanks man.”
Carl flicked on the lamp that sat next to the bed and rubbed his eyes. This was the third time this week that Kevin had called from the bar. He always called Carl. He was lucky Carl was so nice. That must have been why he always called him because both Carl and Kevin knew that Brett and Jeff wouldn’t pick him up night after night. Carl knew he shouldn’t do it either. Then maybe Kevin would realize he had a problem and stop.
Carl slipped on a pair of old jeans that were lying on his floor and his sneakers. He found his car keys on the TV and headed for the bar. He picked Kevin up around one thirty.
“Thanks so much,” Kevin said after he kissed some girl, slobbering all over her and stumbled into the car.
“Sure,” Carl replied. “Listen, I’m going to be frank about this. No games. I’m going to send you to AA ok? I’ll pay for it. And if you go and get clean I’ll pay for you to go anywhere you would like for a whole month. Anywhere in the world. All paid for by me. Not just the trip, but money for spending and everything.”
“Yes, really. You need to get clean first. Then, like in our song, the song from our band, a band you used to be proud of and liked to spend time with. You need to get far away and bury theses days.”
Kevin shook his head in agreement.
“Yes, bury these days.”


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