Chapter eighteen

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Liz's PoV.

The doorbell rang again.

"If this is someone's idea of a joke, I assure you it is of very poor taste!" I yelled as I flung the door open. Gerard, Ray, Kellin Quinn, Tony Perry and Mike Fuentes stumbled through the door, laughing.

"Why the fuck are you all here? I'm fairly sure that only Liz was invited!" Patrick joked.

"Well. Mikey came first with Liz so we had to follow you. Then, Ashley purdy started freaking the fuck out about Liz getting with Mikey and sent CC. Pierce The Veil tagged along with that. All Time Low were bored" Gerard replied, winking at me.

"So, what was your plan? Just turn up for the day randomly or did you bring all the busses and stuff?" I asked.

"Well, I'm pretty sure the neighbors will be pissed because there are huge fuck-off busses lining the road" frank laughed

"What the fuck? Do I take it you're all coming on tour with us then?" Brendon asked.

"Yep!"

"Yay! It's just like warped tour but fewer people are performing and more people are fucking around!" I laughed.

"I propose we order pizza" joe suggested.

We all ordered pizza, along with multiple servings of chips (I'm English, they would be chunky fries to anyone in America) and ice cream.

"We do not have room for everyone to sleep in the house, you're gonna need to sleep I'm the busses or in the floor here" Pete remarked thoughtfully.

"Oh! We could have a sleepover on the floor in here!" I squealed, met by multiple noises of agreement.

Soon, all twenty two of us were asleep on the floor, under the blankets from our busses.

I kept waking up in the night though and at around three AM, I woke up and didn't get back to sleep. I stood up and walked out to the patio, the cold air nipping at my body. I was only wearing an old tank top and sweat pants so I was pretty exposed.

I was looking up at the stars, so engrossed that I didn't notice I was shivering. I also didn't notice that Mikey had woken up too and had walked out onto the patio, standing next to me.

He pulled a cigarette out of a box in his pocket and lit it, blowing smoke into the cold air.

*flashback*

I was thirteen. A boy, named named Thomas, had a fake ID.

I was having a shitty day, my only family (Black Veil Brides) had just gone on tour and left me again, I was about to relapse to self-harm, then Thomas walked in. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand. He held it out to me silently and I took it, taking a sip.

It burned my throat on the way down but it was a comforting burn. I took another swig and soon, I had downed half of the bottle. I was completely numb and could barely remember who I was.

Thomas lit a cigarette and handed that to me too. I assumed that, since the alcohol made me feel better, smoking would too. The nicotine tasted comforting too and I liked it, finishing the cigarette.

This happened every night, me and Thomas drowning our sorrows in vodka and cigarettes. I quickly developed an addiction, along with some alcohol resistance so I was drinking more and more by the night.

It got to the point where I could comfortably down one and a half bottles and chain-smoke when it happened.

Thomas happened across a drug dealer. Twelve weeks later, he came home with a tiny bag of some white, powdery stuff. He carefully separated it into lines and rolled up a £5 note.

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