ODAAT: Volume 2, Chapter 25

 

Berries

We played an amazing show in Detroit yesterday. I didn't mess up a single note. I was proud of myself. We went out after to celebrate, before checking into our hotel. Today, we have the day off, so everyone has gone their own ways. Frankie went to meet a local friend of his, James. He was the drummer of Frankie's first band. The two kept in touch, but haven't had many opportunities to see each other. Since James has a typical job, it's hard for him to get time off. He wasn't able to come to the party last night either. So this morning, Frankie jumped up and headed out to his place. I would have gone along with him, but I wanted to give them privacy to catch up. I know having a girlfriend around can put a damper on a dude-only outing. Besides, James will be joining us later this evening. He's going to be filling in on the drums. Crystal wants to play guitar and Jared is going to take over the bass. I've made it clear I don't want to be on stage unless I have to be. I'm not cut out for stardom. The audience frightens me and I worry too much about messing up. My anxiety doesn't need help. I want to be a part of the team, but I knew that it wasn't going to be musically. My skills lie in the clerical side of the industry these days. I've taken over as the manager, demoting Frankie's current manager to a mere assistant. She wasn't pleased, but it made her life easier. I've been calling ahead to book our hotels. I've been dealing with venue security and crazy fans. I've even started organizing the press. We haven't held a press release as a band yet, but it needs to happen. There has to be an official announcement that this is a band. Frankie wants to wait until the tour is over and we're back home. I agreed that it was the most logical time to make a statement. By the end of the tour, we'll have a better idea where everyone stands.

While Frankie is visiting with James, Crystal has taken off to go sight-seeing with Charlie. He has the right demeanor to be able to walk around this city with no worries. Crystal is a babe and it's unlikely anyone is going to try and mess with her. Pretty girls make graves, not the other way around. They'll be fine. I don't believe the rumors about the violence in Detroit anymore than I believe them about Illinois. But, I've lived in Detroit, so I know there's not much to do. Or, I just don't feel like going out. Jared shared that opinion, so he's still at the hotel with me. We started our morning by ordering room service and enjoying breakfast in bed. It wasn't anything fancy, just waffles with berries and yogurt.

Two hours later and we're laying in bed with squished berries underneath us. I decide to tell him about my conversation with Luke last week. I don't bother censoring the insults.

“Do you think there's any truth to what he said?” I ask, rolling onto my side to face him. He's laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Both of his hands are wrapped together, resting on his chest. I watch them rise and fall with every breath he takes. He looks over at me, resting his head on the pillow.

“Do you?” He counters. I shrug, clicking my tongue.

“I don't know what to think.” I answer. He adjusts on the bed beside me, laying on his side. I look over, trying to read his facial expression. It's impossible to read him these days. He's become as mysterious and elusive as Frankie. I think it's a good thing.

“In a way, yes.” He agrees, propping himself up with one of his elbows. He rests his head against his hand, and looks over. I laugh, dropping back against the bed.

“Thank you. I mean, that was so insightful. You should be a therapist or something. Your advice is amazing.” I tease, rolling my eyes. He laughs, but it sounds a little forced. We're both quiet.

“It's just, a band isn't a permanent thing, you know? It's like a relationship. Or, life for that matter. There's going to be an end, that's inevitable. Success isn't measured by how long you're doing something. It's measured by what you do with that time. In that time.” He rambles. I roll over to face him, biting the side of my lip. He chuckles, letting his eyes fall to the bed.

“Actually, I've never thought of it that way myself.” He adds. I smile, moving one of my hands to his side. The blanket pulled his t-shirt when he rolled over, so there's a slice of his stomach exposed. I slide my hand over the skin, resting it on one of his hips.

“I guess I just took it to heart. That, he thinks we're doomed to fail. That, there's no hope.” I emphasis the duality of the statement. Jared isn't stupid, so, he knows what I mean.

“Yeah.” He mutters, dropping back down on the bed. I leave my hand resting on his stomach, tracing the light hair around his belly button.

“We won't last forever, either. Nothing does. But, nothing gold can stay. You used to tell me that, remember?” He asks, now looking over at me. I nod, laughing lightly.

“That's a Robert Frost poem.” I correct. He nods.

“I know it is. It's a beautiful poem, too. But it's always meant more coming from you. At least, to me.” He confesses. I smile, leaning forward. He meets me half way, brushing my lips with his. We hold them in position, hovering over each other, before they collide.

The lingering is something that has always defined us. Whether it's the middle of a sentence or the moment before a kiss. Or even during sex. We're lingering. Waiting for the other to be ready, to meet us halfway. It's shocking that our relationship couldn't seem to work out. Then again, we were both too selfish to give each other what was needed at the time. But something has shifted between the two of us. Something important. I think we spent years with blocked vision. We couldn't see the reality of what was right in front of our eyes. Instead, we lived in our own worlds. We were never on the same page. We weren't even reading the same book. He was always ahead or behind me. But never right in front. Or maybe, he was always right in front of me and I just couldn't see it. But I can see him now. In fact, he's all I can see. I don't know if he wanted to go back in time, to before this all went wrong. Or if he wanted to jump ahead and see how it would all end. But, right now, we're on the same page. In the same world. Seeing everything for what it is.

Everything changed between us. But, it was everything that needed to.

The hotel door opens, creaking loudly from across the room. I look past Jared at Crystal, now entering the room. She has one of her arms over her eyes, dramatically bracing herself.

“Are you both decent?” She asks, using her other hand to guide her along the wall. Jared looks over at me and we both start laughing. He jumps off the bed, reaching out for Crystal. Her hand finds his arm and she grips his skin tightly. Then she moves up his arm, pulling at his t-shirt. She quickly pulls her hand back, letting her arm drop from her eyes. She looks down at her hand, noticing the red dripping off her skin. Then her eyes widen and her jaw drops.

“What the?” She barks, looking at Jared's t-shirt. He's wearing a black t-shirt, but you can see the berries squished into the white writing on the front. He shrugs, pulling it over his head. He tosses the shirt inside out towards the entrance. Crystal looks around the room, her eyes landing on the bed. The sheets that covered the bed used to be white. Now, they look like the television set for a crime show. There are red and purple dots all over, with hints of blue.

“What did you guys do?” She whines, letting her shoulders slump. I laugh, slowly pulling myself up from the bed. I pull the shirt I was wearing off, balling it up. I throw it towards the entrance, letting it land on Jared's. I pull the sheet off the mattress, trying to keep the bits of fruit from flying off the bed. I carefully fold the sheet into itself, leaving the fruit inside. I'm relieved when I notice the stain didn't leak through to the mattress. If it had, we would be looking at a ridiculously large hotel bill. I put the folded sheet down on the table in the room. Now that the bed is clean, I throw my suitcase down on the mattress. I dig around for something to pull on. Jared starts undoing his pants, but Crystal squeaks in protest.

“Hey, wait a minute.” She yells, lightly pushing his shoulder. He pauses, hands still on his zipper. He's laughing as she turns her back to the two of us and covers her eyes again.

“Okay. Go.” She instructs. I laugh, sliding my jeans off. I quickly check the pockets before letting them fall to the floor. Jared does the same thing, his hand getting stuck in his pockets. He always wears tight-fitting jeans. They make his ass look great, but they don't leave a lot of pocket space. Neither of us use our pockets because there isn't any room in them. Occasionally, one of us will store a joint there, but they always end up squished. Everything seems to end up squished when we're both involved. These days, we can't keep our hands off each other. That's how the fruit war started in the first place. We were eating in bed. He kept dropping raspberries, which rolled underneath me. I went to playfully push him, but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into a kiss. I toppled over on him, knocking over the dish of fruit. From there, it was already messy and we just went for it. Actually, that's pretty much how we've been viewing this relationship now: It's already messy, fuck it.

“Where's Charlie?” I ask, looking around. Crystal motions to the door.

“He's waiting in the lobby. We're already checked out.” She announces. Jared darts past me towards the bathroom. I step out of the way, but my eyes follow him.

“You can look.” I inform Crystal. She slowly opens her eyes, turning around. I motion to the bathroom.

“Like I need to see Jared naked.” She mutters, shaking her head. I laugh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“We need to shower before getting dressed. Can we meet you in the lobby in fifteen?” I ask. She nods, turning around.

“Please make it quick.” She groans. With that, she's off.

I leave Jared in the bathroom after our shower and head back to the bedroom. I pull out a change of clothes for both of us. I've always had a change of clothes in my suitcase for him. It's an old habit that was hard to try and break. Luckily, I didn't have to. I pull on the light denim jeans I've picked for myself. They have tears in the knees with lace underneath. I picked the first shirt I found, which is actually a shirt Luke gave me in Madison. It's navy blue with an anchor on the front in white. It's got the band name in script writing with “Illinois” written underneath. He comes out of the bathroom a minute later and I toss his jeans towards him. I watch him pull them on, the way his hips sway to move them up his body. They are straight-cut, black denim and they look damn good on him. He pulls on a plain black t-shirt, which happens to be the only shirt of his I have. I close my suitcase and look at the pile of our clothes on the floor. Jared is staring at them too. He looks over at me and laughs.

“Yeah, I don't think there's any hope.” I agree. He nods, collecting up our shirts. He tosses them into the trash bin beside the dresser. I grab the pajama pants I had been wearing and throw them in on top. I grab my suitcase and look around the room. Jared left his suitcase on the bus, since our stay in Detroit was short. He puts his arm around my waist and we head down to meet Crystal in the lobby.

Crystal and Charlie are waiting patiently in the lobby when we enter. Crystal looks around.

“Do you know where Frankie is?” She asks. I shrug.

“Did you try his room?” I ask in return. Since Jared had his own room the last time, Frankie decided he wanted his own room this time. He claimed he needed a night without Jared clinging to him. Jared pretended to get offended, but shrugged it off as making up for lost time. But really, he knew he was going to be up and out before any of us today. So, he just didn't want to disrupt us. She nods.

“Yeah. I went into his room after I left yours. He wasn't there. None of his stuff was there, either. I thought he might be on the bus already, but he's not.” She's rambling now. I shrug again.

“He's probably heading straight to the bus with James. He's likely checked out, with no plan of coming back here. He knows where the bus is. He knows when we're leaving. He'll be there.” I offer. She nods, but doesn't seem convinced. We head towards the front door as a group. I look over my shoulder as we leave. He'll meet us on the bus at the time he's supposed to.