“Well, if nobody else has anything else to share, let’s recite the Serenity prayer and we’ll call the meeting to an end.”

I cannot believe I’m doing this again. This group is the worst one I had ever been to! The mediator smells like fast food and cigars, the people here have no good stories, and meetings are held in the dank basement of a community center. I mean, sure beggars can’t be choosers, but throw me a freakin bone here!

I guess I should explain what’s going on, or who I am or something. I’m Ashley Davies. Yeah, THAT Ashley Davies. Rock star, millionaire, badass hottie, Ashley Davies. Over-confident, you say? I know. It bugs me, too. What I wouldn’t give to be normal or relatable or even a little likeable… However, dropping the confident asshole, “sex, drugs, rock’n’roll” act is strictly prohibited by my publicist… and manager, and label, and pretty much everybody else running the behind-the-scenes in this circus I call a career.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my job. Music is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. It never fails me. Any time I’m frustrated, my guitar somehow has a way of producing exactly what I’m feeling. It lays out every emotion cluttering my mind and I don’t think I could ever get that out of another profession. God forbid any of those songs make it onto an album, though.  Apparently, that’s not the Ashley Davies that the public loves. So I do what I have to do so that I can do what I want to do.

Unfortunately, doing what I have to do inevitably leads to stupid publicity stunts like this. I’m currently sitting in an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. My P.R. people think this is the best way to boost sales for my new album. As much as I try to argue with this, the facts still stand and it worked on the last three albums. I know. Alcoholics Anoymous has the reputation of being… well… anonymous. It also has a reputation of failing to uphold this when celebrities are involved. I’m just waiting for people to stop caring that I’m apparently some crazy alcoholic. Maybe then I can really break out of the chains, ya know?