Band/Camp AU taster

Okay let's get one thing fucking straight. I used to be addicted to drugs. What types, you ask? All kinds of shit. Whatever I could get my hands on. I don't know how it happened. I fell into what I liked to call a 'depressive funk'. I wouldn't eat, was barely sleeping, was on a shit tonne of prescribed meds and was being forced to have several hours of therapy per week. Not that a bottle of anti-depressants and a chat with some balding, old man helped the gaping black hole inside of me that some church-goers like to call a soul. Eventually I started skipping school and took up smoking, which caused my so called friends to become distant to the point were they barely even glanced at me. My mom barely even regarded me as her son anymore, just some messed up teenager who hands her problems on a silver platter. From this moment onwards, I became a walking, talking bag of powder. My mom found my stash about a month ago and here we are, being shipped off to some summer camp situated in the middle of no where. Thank god she didn't consider Church camp.
She's sending me, along with my younger brother Mikey, to Camp Kandalore in Toronto, Canada. I mean, as if secluding me from the rest of the world by sending me to a summer camp is going to make everything okay.
My mother beeps her car horn loudly at a car in front of us, a string of obscenities quickly following from her mouth. I sat up front, having called shotgun as me and Mikey had lazily dragged ourselves to the car earlier this morning. I'd done just about everything to piss my mom off, even tried the oldest tricks in the book, but everything I did only made her to want to send me to this god forsaken camp even more. I perch my feet on the dashboard, leaving behind scratches and trails of dried dirt that had crumbled off my dirty white chucks. Under normal circumstances, normal being we weren't stuck in traffic on the way to the airport, my mom would scold me for having so much as a crumb in her car, let alone my filthy shoes on her what-was-once-before-pristine dashboard. I roll my eyes at the sight of my mom's face reddening with anger by the second and jam my earphones in my ears, pressing shuffle repeatedly until a song that matches my mood starts to play. The car finally lurches forward, causing our suitcases in the trunk of the car to bang against eachother. I stare out of the window, noticing that we're going awfully fast considering the speed limit was 50km/h. My mom gets like this when she's frustrated. She's still pissed at me for locking myself in the bathroom this morning right up until I had twenty minutes to get ready and leave for the airport. Eventually, it ended in Mikey picking the bathroom lock and my mom half dragging, half pushing me down the stairs and out of the house. I am not looking forward to this. At all. I'd spent three and a half hours the night before researching this place, and let me tell you, there is no way I am letting someone tie ropes around my junk and teach me how to slide down a wall. No way. And freaking canoeing? CANOEING? Do they realise what happened last time I was on a boat? I might as well just jump onto the highway now whilst the car's still going. I groan out loud and pretend to dramatically smash my head against the car window. I feel a tap at my shoulder, so I quickly pull my earphones free from my ears and turn around in my seat. I'm greeted by the eyes of my younger brother, Mikey.
He smirks at me. "Bro, chill. It's going to be okay. Just imagine; hot, sweaty dudes in tight ass shorts running around all soaking wet--"
He's cut short by my mom. "Mikey fucking Way!"
I roll my eyes as I listen to my mom and Mikey hurl insults back and forth, eventually cracking up and shoving my earphones back in.
"This is going to be hell."

Notes

Anyone who reads this, constructive criticism is welcome!