Javier usually wasn't one to drink in camp, but the others definitely were, which meant he was usually the one that had to clean up after them and take care of them. It wasn't too fun, sometimes they were trying to fight back, sometimes they threw beer bottles at Javier, which made him resent not drinking more.

It was just another night, Javier was sitting next to his tent, guitar in his lap. He heard a thud, so he looked over, and saw that damn fool Marston had fallen while drunk. He sighed, moving his guitar over as he got up and walked over to John, standing over him with a disappointed look on his face, putting his hands on his hips.

"Did Hosea give you a rightful smack or did you fall on your ass?"