2001 New York
"If our parents could see us now!" Jepha cries over the music. Taking a shit glass of the tray a pretty girl was holding as she walked passed. Hips swinging. "I know dude!" Brandon agrees, looking at the girl dancing on the stage.
Quinn gives bert a hard nudge, snapping him out of day dream. He hasn't been staring at anything. Not even a chick and he was biting his nails. Quinn took the shot glass jeph offered him and offered it to Bert. "You wanna drink?" He asks softly. He wasn't sure Bert would take the offer, the guy had spent several months sober. On nothing not even beer since that last NA meeting back in Utah after London.
Bert looked silently nervous despite there no real need to be. Maybe Quinn didn't understand it. Or maybe he was too young to see it that way but strip clubs and night clubs weren't the best place for a meth addict.
Bert snaps out his trance. "What?" But it's drowned by the booming club music. His eyes fall on the shot glass in Quinn's hand and he takes it carefully. Quinn's facial expression doesn't change and that encourages the little voice in Berts head telling him having a drink was okay. It would be. He's a serious meth addict not alcoholic. One last look at the glass and he throws the shot back. Grimacing and shuddering. "Gross!" He laughs and Quinn laughs too. "You gonna get drunk?" He asks. There wasn't any pressure in his voice. They weren't even meant to be drinking. Bert and Quinn where only nineteen. There new manager had got them inside.
Bert stays quiet and just throws him a cheeky smile. He didn't know yet. But no harm could come from him getting drunk. As long as someone didn't put a pound of meth on the table he would be fine.
It's another night and another party, Bert's got his drink on and he's much more confident on his own. Booze was as fun and he didn't feel the need to cling to his band mates so much. Brandon was on the bus, jeph was thinking about calling it night and Quinn was chatting up some pretty bird and suddenly Bert's being offered pills.
It's like his brain flat lines for a moment. His heart pounding in his chest. Pills weren't meth. Pills would be okay. They should be okay. So he swallows them. Both of them.
Obviously everyone was pretty freaked and worried when they Bert having the time of his life, pupils blown out, gurning his tight jaw and telling everyone how much he loves them. Brandon was pissed. There manager simply pays Bert on the back with a short laugh and leaves them to it.
"Nononono!" Bert's eyes widen and shakes his head furiously. "This is fine. It's just molly" he's ways. Begging Quinn to trust him. He was going to be okay. He wasn't falling down any rabbit role.
There's another party and Bert gets Cocaine. Once again, he tells himself he'll be okay. Coke isn't meth, meth isn't coke. It reminds him off it. But he's fine. It's a little easier to hide to his band mates than MDMA and he wasn't hiding it either. It was better to open about it. But Bert's idea of being open is just doing in front of them without warning or care. Brandon wasn't fucking happy. He could see what was happening. Bert was just using the same excuse. He didn't have an issue with those drugs so those drugs where fine. But Brandon was the only one who could see that Bert not only had a issue with crystal meth but an issue with drugs.
Quinn trusted Bert. There was nothing else needed to say about and Jepha who was watching there front man closely but didn't see anything past moderation alarming.
