One Day At A Time - Volume 2

 

One Day At A Time is an epic that follows our main character. 

"An over-glorified groupie" magazines called her. She believed in following her heart and it always belonged to the road. She followed anyone she believed would help her to live fast, die young, and leave a beautifully wrecked corpse. 

Feelings are a funny thing though, because you can never run from what's inside you. No matter how many miles you put between yourself and the past, you carry a piece wherever you go. It's not about hiding it or fighting it. It's learning to harness that chaos. The answer is to create something.

Chapter 1
Starting Over

It's funny how we lie to the people we love the most. Often under the veil of protecting them from the pain the truth would cause. But really, there's nothing noble about lying. It's selfish. Nothing less and nothing more. We're only trying to protect ourselves from the aftermath. They say the truth will set us free. I don't disagree, but I can see how the truth can be a trap, too. Honesty can be your salvation or your damnation. All depends what you're honest about.

I found out that Crystal was the deciding factor in our move to Illinois. She told Frankie that she was born and raised here. He always believed I was raised here as well. I was raised all over the East coast before I was in my preteen years. I was born in Illinois, yes. My mother dragged me back to Illinois later on. But when I left with Luke, Illinois stopped being home. Home was the road. New York was second, but Illinois came in third for places I'd settle in. Of course, Illinois was familiar to him as well. He had lived here for a few months with Luke. He met a lot of people while he was here. He thought it would be a nice place to settle down. It makes me wonder why he's not here with us. We got here without him in the first week of January. He came along the second week to see the house and make sure we settled in. He wanted to make sure the Realtor had been genuine about the condition of the house. But, after a few days, he was leaving again. He said he had to go to New York to negotiate the contract for his next album. He called to say he wouldn't be back for a few weeks, because he didn't want to rush the process. At least the Realtor had picked a beautiful house. The pictures didn't really do it justice. It was so much nicer in person. Bigger, too. It turned out to be about double the size of the California house. The Realtor never sent pictures of the view either. The house overlooked the docks, which meant it was central. We didn't know that until we arrived. Crystal was thrilled. I would know she wasn't from Illinois, even if she never told me. She acts like a tourist here, like she's only been on occasion, because she has. The real reason she wanted to come to Illinois was her now-boyfriend, Charles. The two of them met while we were playing here a few weeks ago. She wanted to be with him and thought settling here was a good way to let their relationship blossom.

They went out for dinner and they've been attached at the hip ever since. I don't mind. I never told Crystal about my past. She wouldn't know that I left Illinois behind and I was happy to get out. It felt like a dead end to me and I wanted to see more of the world. I guess now, I'm the one who needs closure. I'm the one who needs to stop running from my past. But if I was really going to face my past, it wouldn't be here. It would be in New York. Or I would pick up the phone and call Samuel. But I won't, because I can't. I'd have nothing to say anyway. Charlie has been showing her around town, like she's a tourist. Because she is. I make the occasional recommendation. Ask if the occasional business is still open. Me and Charlie don't talk a lot. We were friends growing up, but, time has drifted us apart. We're such different people now. That and, I left without telling anyone. That is, after all, my token move. My parents were furious because I ran off with Luke. The parents who never gave a damn about me before suddenly started acting parental when I said I was leaving. I guess because I wouldn't be able to pick up the pieces of their fucked up lives anymore. Or, at least my mothers. My dad was always a step-parent, regardless of who it was each week. But whoever it was would always try to act like he had authority. They saw me at the age of 10 as a child. They expected I would be more open to having parents. I wasn't. I wasn't interested in being raised because I was doing a fine job myself.

When I met Luke, I saw it as a way out of the life I felt I had grown beyond. Oh he was everything a magazine cover demonstrated as the perfect man. The image of perfection when everything around me felt like a disaster. In hindsight, I realize I saw him in a glowing light. Like an angel sent down to guide me along to the next stage of my life. He wasn't perfect and I would quickly find that out. We didn't have a fairy tale start, either. It was rough from day one. He cheated on me, accused me of horrible things. But I stayed, because it was better than going home with my tail between my legs. I spent more years of my life with him, trapped in that cycle, than I want to admit. He would hold it over my head, too. He would remind me that without him, I would still be at home, dealing with the bullshit of my mother. I had to “earn” my right to be in his life. The fame went straight to that kids' head. He thought he was some sort of God-given privilege to me and I should worship the ground he walked on. But I let him boss me around. I did. Because I was naive. I thought it was love. Oh if I had a nickle for every time I heard that. But it wasn't. Because when it hurts like that, it never is. Love is painful, sure. But there's a reward. It's worth the pain. That wasn't.

It was in the fall of 2009. I took off for the night. I was going to a show, even though he wouldn't have allowed it. Just me, myself and my fake I.D. I was going to watch some band touring the United States. They weren't played on the radio. I knew nothing about the band or even their style of music. There was nothing special about them. But I was doing it because I wanted to. I wanted to do anything that didn't require asking permission. And I did.

That was the night I ran into Hunter. He told me the planets must have aligned to put us in the same place. It was fate, or something like it. He was such a hopeless romantic back then. He asked me to come with him on tour. I was hesitant, but we all know that I did. I packed a bag, got onto that tour bus and barely looked back at the life I left behind. Then I moved in with Hunter in California. We'd tour together. We wrote music together. He loved me and I loved him more than anything. It wasn't perfect. I realized there was no such thing as perfection. But, we were golden. If only I had realized the truth Robert Frost spoke of when he said nothing gold can stay. I think I would have still got on that tour bus. I would have still followed Hunter wherever he went. I don't regret a minute of that first year we had together. Before his insecurities. Before the separate touring. But, when our relationship took that shift, I would have put in the effort. I would have tried harder. I would have made him try, too. I wouldn't have let him slip away into the subconscious insanity that has consumed him. I would have fought.

It's funny how I think of this in hindsight. It's not funny how often he's been on my mind. I think it's because I have nothing better to do with my time. Crystal is always off with Charlie, leaving me alone in this massive house with nothing to do. I don't tell him this when he calls every night though. I don't want him to think I'm lonely. Although I am. I realize that loneliness is just because I've become too accustomed to relying on other people. I made the choice that night in New York to do something for myself. I need to make the same decision now.

Chapter 2

Route

We've both accepted that we are going to have to adjust to a new life. A life where no one is taking care of us. She got herself a job working alongside Charlie at a local publishing company. This has her thinking about writing a book. She wants it to be a story about her life. About the tours she's been on. About the people she's met. About me and Charlie, and finally setting up a home in Illinois. I encourage her out loud, but in my head, I'm rolling my eyes. All that says to me is she's going to put together an account of all the stories she's told other people, slap the word biography on it and put it on the shelves. Charlie is encouraging her every step of the way. Good for them. We've been here a month, but she's already settled in like it's been a lifetime.

Me? I decided the waitress route was the best one. But it didn't last long. I wasn't cut out for taking orders and smiling like I care. I didn't get fired or anything. I simply said it wasn't working out and moved on to bigger and better things. I found a bar, catering mostly to the underground punk scene that Illinois is so famous for. I get a lot of kids thinking they can pass off a fake I.D. card some friend made for them with a printer in their basement. But as a kid who used to use a fake I.D. card, I can spot one a mile away. Reggie, the boss, says it's a talent. Maybe it is. It saves him from getting sued, so I know he'll keep me around. We also go way back, since he used to live in New York. He was a friend of a friend, so we never really got close. But, I like him. He's not hands-on like the employer in my Vancouver reality. He's a little, expressive. Some employees complain about how he doesn't know personal space boundaries. I don't mind though. I know so much worse is out there. I'll take a guy who thinks hugging his patrons is better than a handshake. Besides, it's mostly just the regulars. There aren't many new-comers to this particular place. I think Reggie likes it better that way.

Sometimes, the bar gets a band or two. There's a venue up the street, but it doesn't have a bar. So, after the set, the bands will come over here and grab a drink. The bar gets crazy on those nights and it seems to stress Reggie out. I keep them under wraps, having enough experience with musicians. Reggie thinks that's a talent too. I like serving the bands because it reminds me of the early days with Hunter. Oh, but these days, what doesn't?

Crystal will come in after work most days. She works until about 5, then her and Charlie head out for dinner or go home and cook themselves something. By 8, she's at the bar and by 10, she's home and in bed. Unless she has the following day off, because then she'll stay here until I close the bar down. We'll take a taxi home and I'll pass out on the couch. Somehow, it's more inviting than the king-sized bed that no one is sleeping in. Crystal loves when the bands come in too. They exchange tour stories and hers get more crazy than the musicians. She's having a good time here. For that, I'm glad. She's definitely made this place feel like home, even though we've only been here a few weeks. I think that's nice. It's been so long since she felt like there was somewhere she could be herself. But she has. Since Charlie, she's started being honest too. She doesn't make up stories anymore. She doesn't try to get attention. Although, her mere presence is enough to get the attention of other people. But she doesn't seek it out anymore. She doesn't need it. She's loved. She's happy. She doesn't need to find answers in strangers who tell her she's pretty. She doesn't need to try anymore.

She continues to be a beacon of light in the darkness of my gloomy world. I should write a book. It would be all about Crystal. Not her stories or her life, but how she carries herself. I'd talk about how she hasn't let the past define her, because she's always changing the past anyway. I'm grateful, at least, that she doesn't have to change the present. I'm not so self-involved that I can't see how much she's thriving. I want Frankie to get to see this side of her. But he's been too busy, he says. I'd be suspicious if he hadn't waited all this time to get a yes from me. I know that he'll be happy to see how well Crystal's doing when he comes to visit. I hope that he'll feel the same way about me. But I'm not there yet. I can admit that. I'm trying to get there, but there's still something missing. Unlike Crystal, I haven't been able to make this place feel like home. I think Charlie has a lot to do with her state of mind. He officially moved in about a week ago. They've been talking about starting their own business together, but Crystal is a little skeptical because of what happened with David. She doesn't want to lose everything again, or be put in an awkward situation. But, she has nothing to worry about. Assuming Charlie hasn't changed too much since I knew him, he's in this for the long haul. He always was a hopeless romantic. When he fell in love, it was the deepest he could fall. When he loves, he puts everything into that love. I can tell he loves her by the way he looks at her. I know that she loves him, too. They bring out the best in each other. Which is really all you need to make it work. Nothing is ever perfect, after all. But if you can find just one reason to keep pushing it forward, you push it forward.

I look over as the door of the bar opens. There's a commotion as he walks in. A chorus of cheering. I smile, looking down to the counter as he approaches the bar. He looks different now. He looks confident. He's walking with his shoulders straight back and a smile on his face. He's got on black jeans with tears in the knees that must be letting in the cold air. He's got on black leather Dock Martin boots, perfect for crunching down the snow. He's wearing a black leather jacket hanging open to reveal the tight Misfits t-shirt he's wearing underneath. His shoulder length hair is now layered with slight highlights. He's wearing black, thick-rimmed glasses over those gorgeous brown eyes of his.

“I'm sorry it took so long. The traffic was brutal.” He greets, dropping his hands on the counter. I place mine over his.

“It's better late than never Jared.” I assure, still smiling. He smiles, looking down at the counter.

“You remembered.” He observes. I shrug, trying not to look as excited as I am to have him here. I'm sure I'm smiling like an idiot, likely turning a shade of red that would make most tomatoes jealous. But I can't help it. He has that effect on me. He always did.

“Of course I remembered.” I assure, thinking back to that morning. We were laying in the grass at a park in some city we were just passing through. Everyone wanted to stretch their legs and we went for a walk. He told me that he didn't go by his real name. He never identified with his own name. He just wanted a presence, a stage name. I never questioned it.

We're all running from something. A name, a boyfriend, a family. But the longer we run, the more we realize that we are, in fact, only running from our own shadows. Crystal was running from her boring childhood. I was running from the life I left behind. He was running from his name. But we've all stopped running, too out of breath to keep up the charade. Crystal and I haven't turned to face our past yet, but, we've stopped in case it wants to catch up.

We make eye contact and he turns a light shade of red. It's noticeable on his pale cheeks, even if the lighting in the bar is dim. I lean forward and softly press my lips to his cheek. He's let a light stubble grow over his usually clean-shaved face. But I don't mind.

“I've missed you.” He whispers as I move back. I can feel the words, their weight. I nod, breathing in his air.

“I've missed you too.” I admit. We're both quiet, but it's comfortable, after all that has happened.

“I like the stubble.” I announce, running the back of my hand over his cheek. He smiles, looking back down at the bar.

“Yeah?” He questions, sounding excited about such a simple compliment. I nod, still feeling the smile on my face.

“It suits you, I think. Or, the new you. I mean, you're quite the fox.” I laugh. He joins me, lightly shaking his head. He looks up and our eyes meet again. I'm pretty sure I'm still blushing, but he is too.

“See what I did?” I ask. He nods, lightly pushing my shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Loser.” He teases, finally sitting down at the bar stool. I pour him a drink and slide it across the bar. He smiles widely, revealing those perfect teeth of his. Then he puts the glass to his full lips and tips it back. I let myself think a few impure thoughts as I watch him. He starts laughing and shakes his head again. He puts the glass down on the counter and reaches for my hand.

“Thank you for giving me this chance.”

Chapter 3

Designated Driver

Crystal has been making me drive everywhere. She knows how I feel about being in control of the wheel. I've got an almost uncontrollable urge to steer into oncoming traffic whenever I see a car driving in the other direction. She knows this, because I've told her this on many different occasions. In fact, I tell her this every time she tells me to get behind the wheel. But she says she trusts me. That she believes I wouldn't put her life in danger. She's probably right. But I still don't trust myself. I don't trust my reaction time either. But Charlie doesn't have a license anymore. He hasn't had a car in so long, he said he didn't see the point. He just let it expire. He has to take the test over, but can't find the time in his schedule. Jared won't drive for the same reasons as me. When he has control of the wheel, you can see him clench his fists around the rubber. His breathing races and his pulse picks up. He's anxious behind the wheel because he doesn't trust himself either. It's one of the many things we have in common. Crystal doesn't care. She just says it's time to face our fears.

She's designated me the driver whenever we go out.

On the weekends, during the day, we drive around town with Charlie as a personal tour guide. Not that it's needed, but Crystal seems to enjoy it. It's been almost two months, but she's still acting like a tourist. I think, she just enjoys hearing Charlie talk about everything that means anything to him. So we just let him pretend we've never been here. Jared and I know Illinois like the back of our hands. We lived here for almost a year before we moved to New York. He had a job at a record store, I had a job as a Starbucks barista. We had to make a living to keep our heads above the water. We made friends. We went to dinner parties. We fucked around behind each others' backs. But, we were different people then. We're different people from two months ago, too. We've run into people who used to be acquaintances that have commented on the difference. Crystal has even said we don't seem the same. Of course, she never met him. She never saw us together. But she's seeing how we are around each other. That's different. Something has changed between the two of us. Maybe the same thing that always needed to. We put too much pressure on each other. Removing the pressure gave us both the chance we never had to flourish. I've seen the changes in him. He's seen the changes in me. We've grown. Apart, and together.

Crystal has asked if we're back together. I told her we're just friends. She said she wouldn't judge either way, because it's obvious we have something special. We had an awkward encounter on Valentines' Day because of her refusal to believe we were just friends. Crystal and Charlie were going out for dinner and insisted the two of us tag along. We didn't know there was a couples' special for the evening. They did, it being Charlie's idea to invite us along. Someone in the restaurant went around giving roses out to every man, requesting they be given to their special someone. Crystal told the whole restaurant that we were a new couple, that it was our first Valentines' Day together. Because of it, we were the center of attention. There was a quartet or something playing requests on a small stage at the front. Crystal said she was going to request a song that she hoped they knew. A song she loved when she was a child and wanted to hear. But that's not why she went to talk to the band. The singer came over to our table and asked Jared to get up on stage with them. They dedicated a song to his “special someone”. He chose a Sinatra song, which made his special someone obvious. It was unfortunate that special someone wasn't there to witness his rendition. He nailed it. If I had a camera, I would have recorded it for Frankie. He would have been proud.

Of course, I won't deny that it was easy to fall in love with him all over again. His confidence was enough to catch my attention. But, we haven't crossed any lines. We're both respecting the boundaries of my unspoken relationship with the love of his life. He sleeps in the third bedroom, which I guess is now a guest-room. There's nothing in it except for a bed and it's only a single mattress. It's nothing fancy, but he doesn't seem to mind. Meanwhile, I'm alone in the massive bedroom meant for two. We spend the days hanging out like friends. Then I spend the night talking to Frankie on the phone. We haven't seen each other in weeks. He's been too busy to make time to come see us. But he calls every night. We talk about his plans for the future. The next tour. The album. When he's moving here with us. He tells me that once his engagements in New York are settled, he'll be home. His words.

I haven't told him Jared is here, though. I don't know why. I guess I'm afraid that he won't believe it's been platonic. He might question why I even invited him here in the first place. I wouldn't have an answer for that, if he asked. I didn't invite him here. He called, telling me he had a locket of mine. It was a locket that Jesse's grandmother gave me just before she died. The sentimental value in that piece of jewelry exceeds everything else I own. I thought I had packed it, but he found it under the bed. That meant it fell from the nightstand and I never noticed. He remembered how important that locket was to me. He said he was skeptical about sending it through the mail, offering to drive it to me instead. He said he'd crash on the couch and leave in the morning. So he showed up with an overnight bag, intending to leave the next day. But, it just felt right having him here. We have the extra room, so we've been sleeping in separate beds. It's not like we've crossed any boundaries.

We're taking it one day at a time. The way we should have always approached our relationship. It might not make sense to other people, but, we know where we stand. We're the only ones who need to know.

Chapter 4

A Memory

I think it's been almost a month since Jared came to town. He's come and gone a few times, but always ends up coming back. I don't know if I'm the one he wants to spend time with, but I'm not complaining. I think, personally, he's just spanning the time until Frankie gets here. I think Jared wants to be here when he gets home.

“He told me about the upcoming tour. It's kicking off in April, I believe.” I announce, looking over at Jared. We're sitting in the living room with the fireplace crackling in the background. We were watching movies, but grew tired of staring at the screen. Now we're drinking wine and talking about life.

“I'd like to come to some of the shows, if I'd be welcome.” He hints. I laugh, nodding my head.

“I'm sure that can be arranged.” I offer. He's quiet for a minute, looking down at the couch.

“I'm sorry about the, well,” He pauses and I watch him bite the corner of his mouth. The way he pulls his bottom lip with his teeth is sexy and he doesn't even know it. It's just a distracted habit of his.

“Don't mention it.” I dismiss, not caring to drag up skeletons from the past. He nods, taking a sip of the wine. It leaves a stain on his bottom lip that I have to pretend not to notice.

“How long is he going to be in New York for anyway?” He mumbles under his breath. I don't know if he's trying to change the subject, or just generally disappointed. I shrug.

“He doesn't know. He's up to his elbows in paperwork, he said. If he had his way, he'd be home already, I'm sure.” I answer loosely. I don't really have the answer, after all.

“You're not worried? He should be home by now, right?” He questions. I laugh, shaking my head.

“No, Jay. The insecurities are all yours, remember? I trust him.” I assure, smiling. He looks up and smirks.

“You trusted me too.” He reminds me. I shrug. I know how his insecurities work. I've been around them enough to understand when he's questioning something. But I'm not questioning anything. I'm here with Jared and nothing is happening between us. I'm showing that I can trust myself. I'm not trying to prove anything to anyone. I'm just trying to prove it to myself. I know, my morals fluctuate. I know I'm not the most trustworthy. But he is. He was committed to this relationship, even when he was with Blake. While Blake thought they had a future, he was planning his future with me. Physically, he was loyal to Blake. Emotionally, he was anything but. It's not like he could have told Blake that he was in love with someone who wouldn't give him the time of day. I'd only even see him if we were with other people. I would never be alone with him. Not until I knew Hunter was done with our relationship. I only entertained Frankie when I found out Jared was back with Kathleen.

“You know, come to think of it, we never broke up.” He observes, directing my attention back to him.

“You're right. We just sort of, went our separate ways.” I agree, trying not to think about it too much. He's right. No harsh words, no argument. We didn't even discuss it. For all he knew, I was coming off that tour and we were going to work things out. It wasn't until that final show, when that question changed the game we were playing. Took us off the game board and threw everyone for a whirl. Myself included. That was when we both actually knew it was over. When I said yes. It's taken us a month of being around each other to finally approach the subject of our past.

“I think it was a wake up call for me.” He declares, sipping his wine. I nod, looking over at him.

“I knew I had to stop being so passive, letting everything just fall apart. I had to be more aggressive and learn to fight for what I want in my life.” He continues rambling. I don't know if he's referring to the time we've been apart, or just the fact that I was gone, or just in general. I don't bother asking, either. As much as it gives him closure to speak of the past, it makes my skin crawl. I don't see him as who he was. He's not the same person. He's not the person I met in New York and fell in love with. He's not the man I traded my world for. He's not the boyfriend I lived with who dismissed my existence. He's not the silence that lingered, echoing through that house. He's not the man I left behind without a single thought or flicker of remorse. Because he's not Hunter anymore. Hunter is nothing but a memory. I'd like to keep it that way, if at all possible.

“You're making it sound like you haven't given up.” I observe, looking up at him. He puts down the glass of wine in his hand and stands up. He walks over to the sliding doors that lead onto the balcony off the living room. He opens them wide, like he's turning the doors into a metaphor. He's looking up at the night sky, lit up from cities beyond our eyes. The stars seem to be shining brighter tonight than I've seen them shine in years. Maybe because tonight is special. Maybe because I'm finally looking at them as I follow him onto the balcony. The air is crisp, but the weather is getting warmer since it's the end of February. I look from Jared to the couple curled up on the chaise lounge.

Crystal and Charlie have been out here for over an hour. They're half-asleep, curled up underneath a brown and beige blanket. It's something that Charlie's mother made him for Christmas. Crystal loves it. Right now, she's pointing out constellations with a wave of her finger. Charlie is laughing and listening to her tell stories about how each of them were formed. She knows so much about things that aren't worth knowing. But, he seems to like it. The way she seems to like how he has an opinion about everything, even if he has no business doing so.

It's funny how we see the traits in the people we love, versus the same traits in the people we don't. I might find Charlie annoying and pretentious, if he wasn't making Crystal so happy. I might find Crystal annoying and manipulative if she didn't always put a smile on every face. I might find Jared dismissive and self-involved, like I once saw Hunter. But I don't. Why? I thought I loved Hunter, but I didn't. I was in love with the idea more than the person. I saw him in the light of the savior he once was to me. When he stopped being that, he stopped being anything. I never saw that I fell out of love. I never would have, if it weren't for something shaking up the snow globe my life had settled into. I might have never seen the snow was little pieces of Styrofoam. It wasn't real. At best, it was a stage. My life had become a performance. Pretending I was fine when I wasn't. Hiding my real feelings and screaming inside my head and heart. Lying to myself about where Hunter was always going when the truth was right in front of my eyes. Acting like everything was fine when we were out together. Every aspect of my life was about giving the outside world a show. A performance.

Go figure, when Frankie turned my life into a literal performance, everything felt real. The spotlights gave me anxiety, made me shake and quake in my shoes. But it made me feel and I began to realize that feeling anything is better than feeling nothing. Then anxiety became excitement. The make up artists painting my face into colors turned me into something I no longer recognized. Yet, somehow it felt like taking off the mask. Writing became a way to let out the demons I had been trying to hide, even though it's all about the reception of the words. I cared so much less when I finally had a reason to start caring. Because when I had a reason to, I had no desire. I stopped caring about the reception and started doing what I wanted to do with my own life.

He showed me what it meant to be alive. Then he took off.

I wondered why until right this second, standing on the balcony with the three people I've been the closest to in my entire life. When Frankie finally gets here, he won't be an answer for me. He won't be my life line. He'll be an addition to the life I made without him. I won't attribute him with fixing the mess I had made of myself. Sure, he bought this house. But, it was more for Crystal than it was for me. Crystal doesn't have a savings account with all the money she has ever made. I do. I could afford to buy a house if I wanted to. I didn't need his money. I didn't need his help. He didn't get me the job that pays the bills and buys our food. He didn't help me to make new friends and build a life for myself. He didn't get Crystal a boyfriend, or give her a new direction with her writing. He didn't fix our messes. He gave us the means to fix them ourselves. He showed me reality, then left me to figure it out for myself. He didn't want to be my savior.

Chapter 5

Book Tour

“When were you going to tell me?” I ask sharply. I don't want to seem upset, but I am.

“I just didn't think you'd mind, since Hunter is here.” Crystal replies loosely, keeping her back to me. I watch as she's packing her suitcase. For a minute, I think about Kathleen watching me throwing things into a box in Hunter's bedroom. I chuckle to myself thinking about it. Fond memories. Of course, I'm not upset that Crystal is leaving. Not at all. I'm upset that she didn't tell me until the very last minute. She needs a ride to the airport two days from now. She didn't give me time to make arrangements at all. I have half the mind to tell her to call a damn taxi. I don't have to drive her everywhere, but I choose to. I choose to conquer my fear to make her life easier. Because I love her. When you love someone, you make sacrifices for them. But she didn't consider me when she decided to leave. She didn't. It didn't cross her mind. I knew that Charlie had a book tour starting. He told us about that right away. He always leaves the country at the beginning of March. This year, he's going to Australia, while last year he toured through Eastern Europe. He goes abroad to sign copies of his books and even do a couple readings. He can only afford once a year.

“Well, I fucking mind.” I announce, which seems to catch her attention. She stops packing and turns to face me. She looks like she's waiting for me to continue, so I look at the black and white tiles that make up her bedroom floor. I look around the rest of her room, taking in the environment. Her bed is in the center of her room, with a dark purple ensemble on top of it. Three throw pillows, two regular sized pillows and one body pillow. They are all varying shades of purple, except the body pillow that is black. In front of the bed is a six drawer dresser that it looks like she hardly uses. The top of the dresser is cluttered with make up and a jewelry rack. She's got two of her favorite wigs sitting on each edge of the dresser. But all of her clothes are presently on her bed. What isn't is hung up in the closet. Her room is a total disaster, but it's because she's leaving. I've never really been in her room before, so I'm only guessing that's the reason for the clutter. I usually just text her when dinner is ready. Or when I'm leaving for work. Or home. I pretty much text her no matter what. I just don't want to interrupt her and Charlie, should they be busy. In all honesty, I have no idea if she's home or not. They take off in the middle of the night for no reason and don't tell anyone. Jared often tells me when they leave, because they have to pass his temporary bedroom. Of the four bedrooms, Crystal and I took the two at the back of the house. We're directly across from each other. Frankie's music room is beside her bedroom and Jared is crashing in the room in front of mine. Jared is often up at ridiculous hours of the night. He says he has insomnia recently. But, he's taking advantage of the extra hours in the day. He's been writing music, some lyrics and some chords. He'll play his guitar until the sun comes up. It's one of the things he went home to get, along with a change of clothes. Although, we have a washer and dryer in the house, so we can do laundry whenever we need to. Crystal seemed excited about that, since her bachelor didn't have either. There wasn't even a washer or dryer in her apartment. She had to go to the laundromat every time she needed clean clothes. I never understood why Frankie didn't just move her into his house.

“What exactly is your problem?” She finally asks, trying to get a straight answer. I shake my head.

“Nothing. I just, want to be included in your plans I guess.” I dismiss. She raises her eyebrow and I can see her looking at me through the mirror on her dresser. The problem I have isn't that she won't be here. She's hardly ever here. It's that I will know she's gone and not coming back for a while. There will be no risk of someone finding out what may happen. I won't be afraid of her walking in. Or picking up the phone and calling Frankie. I don't have to worry too much about that one. She assumes that Jared and I are an item, sneaking into each others' rooms when no one is looking. She hasn't said anything since she asked. I don't want to keep repeating myself because I'm afraid it's going to sound like I'm trying to convince myself. She'll be gone for 16 days. That's over two weeks of being alone in this house with Jared. I could always tell him to go home. That I'd be uncomfortable having him here when no one else is. But isn't that admitting guilt? Admitting that impure thoughts have been crossing my mind? I don't know which is worse: Pretend I don't think it and risk letting it happen, or admit that the thoughts have crossed my mind and avoid the temptation. It's like a double-edged sword.

“You're upset about me leaving.” She observes. I nod, motioning around her chaotic room. I start laughing nervously.

“Well, yeah. You didn't tell me you were leaving for weeks. That I'd be here alone.” I ramble. She nods.

“You're not going to be alone. But, I'm guessing that's the problem.” She tests the water. I sigh. I didn't think I was that easy to read. She walks towards me and puts her hands on my shoulders.

“You need the buffer?” She asks, realizing it for herself. I shake my head, but find myself nodding. I don't want to acknowledge any of this. I'm content not dealing with this. Not yet. Not until Frankie is here, face-to-face and I can tell him myself. I won't risk the same thing I did with Hunter. I won't hope that my tone of voice is transferring through the phone line. I have to see him. I could fly to New York. I can certainly afford it. I have my savings from all the years I worked. After all, Hunter never made me pay my own bills and I worked to keep my sanity. I basically threw my paychecks in the bank and forgot about them. Then, Frankie arranged for a portion of the ticket sales to go to Crystal and I. He felt that since we had performed, we earned something. I just don't want to ask Reggie for time off work. I haven't worked for him long enough to start asking favors, even if we are old acquaintances. I'm at the bar 6 nights a week. I only have the day to travel. I could find the time during the hours of sun to get to New York and home. But Frankie would be busy if I tried to show up during the day. Our schedules oppose each other right now. It's like a cosmic force designed to keep us apart. Or designed to test me, let me mess everything up again.

“You're going to be fine. Stop worrying about it.” She asserts, forcing me to look her in the eye. I fake a smile.

“I don't know about that.” I mumble, beginning to shake my head. It only takes one moment of weakness to completely fuck up everything we're working towards.

“You'll be fine.” She repeats herself with confidence. I don't believe her for a second.

Chapter 6

Record Label

I'm waiting in the boardroom on the top floor of the label’s office. He told me he was negotiating his next album, but he never told me why. He planned to have me singing on the album, which required convincing his label that I could be added to his contract. It also meant that I'd have to sign off on some of the album concepts. I figure it meant I would be touring with him too. Not because I want to, but because it was going to be required. Jared took my shift at Reggie's so I wouldn't have to rush to get back on the plane. Reggie didn't seem to mind. He had told me last week that since Jared started coming around, business was booming. I noticed it without him having to say so. Jared started playing acoustic sets a few times a week. That brought in a whole new crowd. Then, when the word got out that Jared was a regular, other bands wanted to start playing. So, Reggie had to hire double the staff, buy double the liquor. But, he didn't have to pay double for entertainment. Jared got back into the groove of being the center of attention. It was easy for him. He doesn't seem as jaded as he did a few short months ago. He's willing to sit down and talk to his fans. But, he doesn't forget about me. He doesn't ignore me, instead offering smiles from across the room. God, my heart melts when he looks at me that way. With this sparkle in his eye, his teeth lightly pulling at his bottom lip. I've been thinking about him in ways I shouldn't be. But, that's why I flew to New York. That's why he's taking my spot at the bar tonight. I had to come here. I had to confess my thoughts. I had no idea what else I was going to have to do. I am happy Jared took my shift, since I have no idea how long I'll be here for.

When I got to the building, I had the secretary page him. I wanted to talk to him about Jared. The second I got to the top floor, I was greeted by a small group of people. Then, I was dragged into a boardroom. Everyone was so excited to see me, referring to me by name. I didn't recognize a single one of them and I'm pretty sure it was because I didn't know them at all. After a few hours, we grew more familiar. I'm not sure how I feel about complete strangers knowing who I am. It takes time to adjust to that level of fame and I haven't had enough. It's now been two hours since I walked through the door. I've paged over at least 10 contracts, signing off on different aspects of the album. One of the contracts was a clause for content ownership. It gave permission to the majority party of any content created by both. I'm glad I understand what all the legal jargon means. I always read Hunter the contracts he signed. His manager didn't like that, but, I think she was jealous of me. Once upon a time. She won in the end, because he was more committed to his lifestyle than he was to his life. I think he realized the error he made. Or, maybe he didn't. But who cares about Hunter? He's still in California having sex with random people to fill a void in his life. Playing music on the side only out of a habit he can't bring himself to break. With no passion and no fire. Fuck Hunter. He was nothing more than a waste of space. Samuel was right. I'm happy he's out of the picture.

Finally, I see him coming down the hallway, accompanied by a flurry of executives. They are guiding him to the boardroom, where I'm sitting. It's been so long since I've seen him, I almost forgot what he looked like. He's got black bags under his eyes, proving that he hasn't been sleeping. He already told me he was having trouble sleeping because he was here and I was there. I believed him, but, now I can see it. His normally confident walk is exhausted as his shoulders seem to slouch forward. He tries to straighten them as he walks into the room. But it doesn't work. He's wearing jeans and a t-shirt and it looks like it took him effort to even bother getting dressed. His hair is ruffled and looks greasy. He hasn't showered in a few days, either. When he sees me sitting at the table, his eyes light up. I realize no one told him I was waiting for him. I stand up to greet him, professionally holding out my hand. He pushes it back towards me with his chest as he wraps both his arms tightly around me. I think I hear one of the female assistants muttering "aww" under her breath as she scurries out of the room. I look up at him, a little confused. His lips are against mine in seconds and I almost completely forget where we are. I stumble backwards from the pressure of the collision. He moans softly into my lips and I realize he doesn't care what these people think. I also realize he really did miss me as much as he claimed over the phone. I don't know why I had let myself doubt this. Him. I should have known that if he could have been home with me, he would be.

One of the contracts I saw was a division between his old label and his new one. That contract had nothing to do with me, but it was sitting on the table. Of course I paged through it when I was left alone in the room. I was bored and curious, more than anything. The contract was talking about the switch in record labels. It turned out his last record label didn't want me to be a part of the album. He had this plan for a handful of duet songs, but the label wasn't interested in mixing business and romance. They were afraid of a separation and said it wasn't professional. He was determined to bring his idea to life, which put them at a stalemate. So, he dropped his former label, opting for a label that would be more open-minded. He had to sign a whole new set of contracts, agreeing to a certain amount of albums in a two year period. He had to agree to predicted record sales. He had to agree to PR for the new album, which would have to include everyone on the album. But, they were giving him some creative freedom, and that was enough for him. I don't know why he didn't tell me that he was switching labels. I don't know why he was so determined to have me on his album. I would have been just as happy to sing on stage. Or not. I would have been happier to step out of the spotlight completely. But it's obvious that isn't a part of his plan.

He steps back, looking down at me with such an excitement in his eyes. I didn't know what I was going to say to him when I got here. For a while, I forgot why I even came. I was too crowded by legalities to remember my own name. He sits down beside me, without saying anything. The team of executives sit down in various places at the big wooden table. They start talking about the record, inquiring about when we're going into the studio. He explains that his goal is to record during the tour, which is starting in three weeks. There's a brief discussion about the press release he'll have to hold, announcing his decision to switch labels. There might be a few photo shoots and interviews as well. The whole time, he looks over at me with this light that I could swear was brighter than the sun. And I can hear everything they are saying in one ear, but the other only hears his laughter.

Chapter 7

Confession

“I'm glad you're here.” He whispers, pressing his nose into mine. I softly kiss him, adjusting on the hotel bed. He has his arms rested above my head and he's holding himself up with his elbows. His room looks lived in, which makes sense because it is. It's got a burgundy theme, from the carpet to the curtains. The bed has a tacky blanket draped over it. It's burgundy and beige and it matches the pillow covers. There's a small dresser on the wall beside the door. On top of it is a small television and a bunch of stuff that belongs to him. His Xbox is one of the items on the dresser, along with his controller and a handful of sandbox games. Most of his personal effects are in the bathroom, even though it's clear his bathing is rare. There are two night tables, one on either side of the double bed. Both have lamps on top of them and one has the hotel phone as well. Underneath the window is a small wooden table with a burgundy chair beside it. He's got a view out the window of the park and it's beautiful. I can see the skating rink lit up, for those who are entertaining themselves in the snow. It's nearing the end of the season, so skaters are rushing to get those moments in before it ends.

“I am too.” I agree, draping one of my arms over his back. He moves up on the bed, pulling me with him. We lay on our sides, pressing our bodies together. Neither of us say anything for about five minutes. I don't want to ruin the moment and he feels the same. His lips find their way back to mine and I let my hand roam his bare chest. This is the first time we've been together since the end of the tour. I feel it now that we're together. I had been occupying my time, my mind. I hadn't noticed the drift. But the second his lips were against mine, I remembered how much I missed him.

“I came for a reason.” I confess, sitting up on the bed. I pull my knees to my chest and look at the wall in front of the bed. There's a picture of an ocean with a small sailboat on it. He pulls himself up, looking over at me. His eyes meet mine and I can't help but get lost in those deep brown eyes of his. I feel like such a terrible person. For what I've been thinking, for who I've been with. This life he's trying to build us, and I just... He kisses the thoughts away before I can even think them. Oh, I missed this effect he has. He just calms me to the core and I can't get enough of that feeling. I slowly move off the bed, removing myself from the temptation of his lips. He laughs and shakes his head, like he doesn't understand.

“If I don't tell you now, I know I'm not going to. I will lose my nerve.” I insist, looking over. He nods, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He lets his feet hit the floor and I find myself instinctively jumping from the sound. Both of his hands drop into his lap and he stares at me patiently. I feel like he's looking into my soul. He's seeing all those impure thoughts I've had about a man that isn't him. Meanwhile, he's only had thoughts of me. Impure and otherwise. I've picked up tricks to spot tell-tale cheating signs. This man has been alone in this hotel room for weeks. Alone. But I've been spending time with the person who made me feel the loneliest for the longest time. It's not fair, I know.

“Hunter came to Illinois.” I start, keeping my back to him.

“Yeah?” He baits me to continue, leaning forward on the bed.

“And?” He pushes. I shake my head, looking out the window. I feel more guilty than I've ever felt in my whole life. I haven't even done anything, but I know the thoughts count.

“And, we've been spending time together.” I mutter. I briefly look over my shoulder to see him raising one of his eyebrows. They are thicker than average, so if he makes a facial expression, it's always exaggerated. Right now, his confusion is all I can see.

“Are you two?” He trails off. I don't look back at him. I can't bring myself to face those eyes. Those eyes that were sparkling only a minute ago that have probably lost their luster. My stomach is dropping and I feel like I should try and catch it before it hits the floor. It's been doing that a lot recently and I'm afraid it's going to get bruised up. I shake my head.

“No. But I won't lie, I've had the thought.” I answer, biting the bottom of my lip. Right now, I want to jump up and get out of this hotel room. I don't care how nice the view is. I think I'd rather see super fast as I fall to the pavement 20 stories beneath us. There's a silence in this room right now that is deafening me. I take a deep breath, and finally turn around to face the consequences of my inaction. That glimmer hasn't gone anywhere. It's not even faded. He's biting the side of his lip playfully, like he knows something I don't. Now it's my turn to raise my eyebrow. So, he starts laughing and stands up. He grabs my shoulders and pulls me into his chest.

“I know that Hunter is there.” He admits, and I can't hide the shock spreading through my body. If Crystal called him and told him, I'm going to snap on her when she gets home.

“I'm the one who suggested he drive that locket to you. He contacted me first, afraid you'd still be mad at him.” He confesses, moving back. I pull back quickly and my eyes go wide.

“You did what?” My voice cracks as I ask.

“Look, I'm not trying to make your life awkward. I'm not testing you or anything, either. Please, don't think the worst. It's nothing like that.” He interjects, before my mind can come up with those thoughts. They would have too. I nod, still confused.

“So, why did you tell him to come to our house, the one you're not even at?” I question, crossing my arms over my chest. He's laughing at me like I'm a child throwing a temper tantrum in the grocery store.

“What is so funny?” I ask, beginning to feel frustrated. He shakes his head, dropping back on the bed.

“I wanted to see him. I mean, I never got a chance to talk to him at the concert. I was the one who invited him then too.” He answers, trying to explain himself. I'm quiet, trying to process what exactly that means. He lets out a deep breath, sitting back up.

“I figured you would understand.” He mutters, looking over at me. I raise my eyebrow again. I see the glimmer in his eyes is flickering, like a light bulb that's dying. I'm not sure why at first, then I realize what he means. I know the look on his face. It's the same one I gave Jared when he walked into Reggie's club the first time.

“You miss him.” I guess. He nods and laughs, like he's relieved.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought I'd be home before he got there and I'd be able to surprise him. But, I got held up here with all the contracts.” He mumbles, shaking his head. I nod, slowly sitting down.

“I think you'll be the surprised one. He's not Hunter anymore. He's,” I pause, looking around the room, like the words will manifest themselves. He nods, laughing.

“Yeah. I know. A few months ago, Hunter would have taken nails to the eyes before seeking me out.” He jokes. I shake my head, laughing.

“Yeah, that's true. But, he was still just hurt I think. After all this time...” I pause, faking a smile.

“I'm sorry. We don't need to bring that up. The past is dead and gone. Right?” I mumble. He shakes his head.

“But that's exactly it. I wanted to bring it up. I wanted to finally talk about everything. But I missed my chance. Again.” He stops, laughing.

“I guess I can invite him back once I'm there, right?” He rambles, seeming to get lost in his own thoughts. I fake a smile and bite the side of my lip. He raises his eyebrow again.

“He never left.” I mumble. Now the look of shock is on his face.

“There’s an extra room. We have the space.” I remind him. He nods, letting the expression dull.

“He never told me he stayed. He just said he dropped the locket off.” There's a hurt to his tone.

“I don't think he planned to stay, Frank. I think he just wanted to wait.” I offer. He looks up and there's now a smile creeping across his face. It's big and bright and looks damn good on him.

“Do you think he?” He stops, shaking his head. I can't help but laugh. He looks like a kid getting asked out for his first school dance. Here I was thinking he would be upset I was spending time with Hunter. Instead, he's jealous that he isn't getting to. He wants out of this hotel and back into our bed. But it's not just me he wants in that bed. I nod when he looks over at me, without needing to hear the rest.

“We haven't talked about it. I mean, I didn't know the two of you had spoken at all.” I mumble. He nods.

“Do you think he was keeping it from you?” He asks. I shrug.

“Maybe he didn't want to me to know he was waiting for you. He didn't want me to feel like I was just there, filling a gap. I think he,” I pause, laughing. Then I shake my head.

“I'm sorry. I'm making this sound like more of a thing than it is.” I dismiss. He shrugs, moving his arms across his chest.

“I wouldn't care. Well, I'd be a little jealous.” He jokes and I laugh.

“If I had to guess though, he misses you. I mean, he'll look towards the door sometimes, like he's expecting something. Or someone.” I explain, smiling. He nods again.

“Yeah?” He asks, sounding only a little bit excited. I move closer to him on the bed, pulling his arms down from his chest. I rest my knees on either side of him, straddling him. I lean down and softly press my lips to his. When I move back, I whisper,

“We both miss you.”

Chapter 8

Home Is An Empty Bed

I open the front door, resting against the frame as I push it open. It's somewhere around five in the morning and I'm tired from the two flights. I've never been a fan of flying, so more than one flight in a day is not my ideal way to spend time. I kick my shoes off on the rug that lines the entrance way. I drape my coat over one of the chairs in the kitchen. Then, I head down the hall towards my room. I pause in the hallway, caught off guard by the high-pitched giggling I hear coming from inside the guest room. There are a million thoughts running through my head, but my mind rests on "I guess Hunter is back". I take a deep breath before stepping forward, trying to prepare myself for the sight. I take the lightest steps possible, making sure my footsteps are faint, almost impossible to hear. You'd have a better chance catching the heart rate of a mouse.

I peer around the corner, looking into the room. There's a small hallway into the guest room, because the closet is on the outside wall. The foot of the bed is visible from the hallway. It's pressed against the right wall, in front of the closet. The dresser is at the end of the hallway, with a large mirror on the back of it. Through the mirror, I can see Jared standing above the bed. He's got a massive smile across his face as he's letting this blonde girl drop. I watch him pull her legs up for her, wrapping her in the blanket. She's mumbling, but it's incoherent because there's more alcohol in her system than blood. She's putting her arms around his neck and pulling him down towards her. I cringe as my stomach goes back to it's familiar place on the floor. But I watch him take her hands and push them down. I hear him say he's not interested, that he's seeing somebody already. I hear him tell her she needs to sleep it off. I hear nothing from her, because she's already passing out. I step backwards and knock on the door. I make sure it's just loud enough to catch his attention. I expect him to jump because people with guilty conscious-es are more easily startled by loud noises. But he doesn't. He smiles even wider, happy to see me as he walks down the hall to where I'm standing. I smirk, motioning towards the bed.

“Who's the girl?” I ask, trying to pretend I'm jealous. We've been here before. Once upon a time, I would have been jealous. But I'm not. It's not because I don't care about him, either. It's not because I've moved on from what we had. It's because I trust him for the first time. I could hear it in his voice. I can see it in the way his eyes are lighting up. I can feel it most in his smile and his arms now wrapping around me. He pulls me close, like he was afraid I wasn't coming back to my own house or something.

“Madeline, you remember her?” He answers, looking over his shoulder at the bed. I raise my eyebrow.

“That's Maddie?” I ask, letting my voice crack slightly. He nods, resting against the door frame.

“She seems different.” I mumble, laughing slightly. He continues nodding, shoving his hands into his pockets. I turn around on my heels and head towards the kitchen. He follows. I pull out the chair my coat is now draped over and jump up into it. It's not a dining room table and chairs, but an island a series of stools. It's just between the kitchen and the living room, which is open concept. The entrance of the house shows the living room to the left, the kitchen to the right, and the hallway in the middle.

“I couldn't leave her like that.” He adds, sitting down on a stool in front of me. I nod, then stand up and head towards the fridge. I grab the bottle of scotch I had been saving. I tip it in his direction and he nods. I grab two glasses, pouring them half full, then hand him one of them. He nods to say thank you, not hesitating his first drink. I watch his lips as the glass touches them, admiring how full they are. How beautiful. It's funny, I've barely looked at him since he got here. I know he looks good. Better than ever. But, I couldn't get around the guilt. Now that it's gone, my eyes can't leave the features of his face.

He's looking down the hall, towards the bedroom he usually sleeps in. He doesn't notice that I'm staring until he looks over. I force my eyes to focus on him, resisting the urge to look away. I catch him, like a fly in a spiders web. He was always weak for eye contact. I put my glass down and move to stand in front of him. I can see his shoulders tense up. I put one of my hands on the back of his head and feel his pulse picking up. I don't give him the chance to ask what I'm doing, before pulling his lips to mine. I love how the liquid in the bottle doesn't taste half as good until it's coming from his lips. His eyes barely flicker open when I step backwards. His tongue is caught in his throat. Good. I sit back down on my stool and pick up my glass. My eyes don't leave him as I slowly sip the liquid gold. He looks over at me and a piece of his hair falls in front of his face. His hair was always as much of a rebel as his heart. He smiles, and I can tell he's blushing as he tucks the piece of his hair back behind his ear. I like the length on him, it's suiting, framing his face so well. The fireplace illuminates the color his cheeks have turned. I try not to stare, I would hate to make it worse. Or would I?

“What, uh, was that for?” He stutters out. I look towards the balcony, but watch him out of the corner of my eye. His finger is tracing the rim of his glass, which is one of his nervous habits. When he's really nervous or anxious, he bounces one of his legs. As it gets worse, his whole body begins slightly twitching. He's doing it right now, but trying to shrug it off. I smile, but I don't answer his question.

“So, where are you sleeping?” I ask, briefly looking over. He shrugs, motioning to the living room.

“I figured I would crash on the couch. Or maybe in Crystal's bed, since she's not using it.” He answers. I nod slowly.

“Crystal's bedroom is a disaster.” I inform him. He shrugs again.

“Yes, but, it beats sleeping on the couch, I'm sure.” He attempts to joke. I notice that his words appear to be caught in his throat. I guess I made him uncomfortable by bringing up his sleeping arrangements. I don't know why. He never had an issue with beds before. I laugh, shaking my head. He raises his eyebrow because he's not reading my mind and doesn't know what I'm thinking. All I can really think about is how adorable he is right now. He is more nervous than I've ever seen him and I am loving every second of it. I almost feel like a bad person. Then I think about Frankie inviting him here. He knew that he was allowed to be here, but I didn't. We didn't talk about it. Maybe he assumed Frankie had told me. But he didn't say anything either. He left it up in the air. While I was worried about Frankie's reaction to him being here, he knew he had been invited. Now, it's my turn to have a little fun with his insecurities.

“I was thinking you could,” I pause, biting the side of my lip. I'm watching him shift on his stool from the corner of my eye. I'm pretending to look at outside, watching the city lights twinkling in the distance. But my eyes are so fucking glued to him.

“You could sleep in my bed.” I finish, still not making eye contact. I should have waited until he finished swallowing, because now he's coughing. Oh well. I look over at him. His cheeks aren't blushed anymore. They are quickly losing color. Under any other circumstance, I'd worry he might be coming down with something. No one loses color this fast under normal circumstances. But they aren't normal. Nothing about this relationship has ever been normal. Why ruin our perfect record now?

“I'm sorry, what?” He stutters, pressing his fist into his chest. I shrug.

“Well, my bed has been awfully lonely.” I mumble, looking around the room. He's still coughing, like he's trying to catch his breath. Maybe he is. I put my now-empty glass down on the island. He's watching closely as I move back into his breathing space. I wrap my arms around his waist, letting my body brush against his. I can feel his heart racing, his breathing speeding up. Every part of me wants to experience that in another context. I dig my nails into his back and I feel him shudder. Leaning forward, I press my nose to his. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, but he doesn't. Instead, his lips collide forcefully with mine. His arms wrap around me, pulling me against him. He's off the stool almost right away and he's pulling me up into his arms. Check. Mate.

Chapter 9

Pancakes For Dinner

My eyes slowly flutter open and I look around the room. I'm exhausted, even after sleeping. Two flights in the last day and a pile of contracts to read can do that to a person. I don't know how the Hollywood fuckers can manage. I want to sleep for days. Days. It doesn't help that every ounce of energy I had left was given to the person asleep beside me. I smile, slowly pulling myself out of the bed. There's no sunlight coming in from the window. At first, I think it must be too early. Maybe I didn't sleep as long as I thought. The clock says it's 5:00 though, so the sun should be in the distance. Then I remember I got off the plane at five am, so that means it's five in the afternoon. We slept the entire day away. Oh well. I grab the jeans that are laying on the floor and pull them over my hips. I reach for my shirt, pulling it over my head. But it's not mine. It's the black Cramps t-shirt he was wearing last night. Oh well. I slide my feet into the slippers waiting to greet me and head out into the hallway. I hear noise coming from the kitchen and the house smells like cooked dough. My first thought is Crystal's flight was canceled. But, I think I would have seen her at the airport if that were the case. Then, I think he's home early. His timing would be great. He should have woken me up though. I yawn as I walk into the kitchen, running my hand through my hair. It's a mess, but, that's expected.

“I'm making pancakes.” Madeline announces, turning to face me. I raise my eyebrow, and head towards her. I grab one of the stools, dragging it across the floor. Then I drop down.

“Pancakes for dinner?” I ask. She nods, laughing to herself.

“Yeah. I know. I woke up a few hours ago, but I didn't want to like, leave. I mean, not before saying thank you. So, I thought about dinner. But, there's not much to work with.” She counters, pointing to the fridge. She's right. I haven't bothered grocery shopping in a while because no one is ever home. Crystal spends most of her time with Charlie somewhere or another. They are never home to eat. They only come back when it's time to sleep. Until then, they are usually out of the house. Jared and me spend most of our time at the bar, so we end up eating out. We've actually gone on more dates in the last month than we did our entire relationship. I shake my head and watch her flipping the batter in the pan.

“Thank you.” I offer, trying to strike up more of a conversation. She looks over at me, briefly, and laughs.

“No no. You don't thank me. I'm thanking you.” She corrects.

“Why are you thanking me?” I ask, jumping back off the stool. I walk over to where she's standing and pull the coffee pot out. She's already made coffee, but the pot is tucked behind the box of pancake mix. The only food we have is fucking pancake mix.

“It's your house.” She answers, looking around. I shrug, pouring the coffee into a mug that's laying on the counter. I don't need the sugar today. I just need the blunt force of black coffee. She smiles as I sit back down. I notice she's staring at my shirt.

“Yeah.” I mutter, laughing. She shakes her head, turning to the stove.

“I'm sorry. I know it's none of my business. I can't help my curiosity sometimes. I think it's going to be the death of me some day.” She dismisses. I shrug, leaning my arms against the island.

“It's what it looks like.” I answer. She looks over at me.

“Yeah?” She asks, almost sounding excited. I laugh.

“Okay, now humor my curiosity. Why do you sound excited about my sex life?” I ask. She shakes her head.

“I just, well, he said a few things last night. I asked him what brought him to town. You know he's pretty private. But, he said he was here to right a wrong of the past. I figured there was a girl. I didn't realize it would be you. He didn't say. But, when he told me where he was staying, I sort of guessed. I'm just happy for him.” She explains loosely. I shake my head, aware she isn't looking at me. She's partially right. He's here to fix a relationship of the past. But it's not me, and it's not a woman. I can hear the shuffling sound of his feet as he drags the bare skin across the tiled floor.

“Good morning.” I greet, looking over at him. He fakes a smile, shaking up his hair. He's wearing nothing but his boxers. He stops as he notices Madeline standing in the kitchen.

“I didn't think you'd still be here.” He confesses. Madeline motions towards the frying pan, faking a smile.

“She's making dinner.” I inform him. He looks over his shoulder at my bedroom, then back at her.

“I uh...” He's stuttering out an apology, which is adorable.

“I told her we spent the night together. You don't have to try and cover up your trail Jared.” I dismiss. He nods, walking over to the coffee pot. He puts his hand on her lower back as he makes himself a coffee. She pushes him back as she takes the frying pan off the stove. He laughs, and walks over to where I'm sitting. He puts his coffee on the island, pulling out a stool. He sits down, positioning himself to face me. I adjust, so that we're facing each other. Neither of us say anything, but our eyes lock in a conversation of their own. He looks even better today than he did yesterday. Even with the bags under his eyes. Madeline puts plates down in front of us, startling us out of our silent conversation. She fakes a smile, then laughs nervously. She sits down with her plate across the island from us.

“Pancakes for dinner?” He asks, motioning towards the plate. Me and Madeline both laugh, exchanging a look. I know where her thoughts have gone. She's not going to say it out loud though.

“It's all we have.” I offer, so Madeline doesn't have to explain it again. Jared nods, picking up his fork.

“True.” He agrees, diving into his plate of pancakes. I watch him eat for a few seconds, trying to mostly look out of the corner of my eye. How is it possible that he's cute even when he's eating? The way his teeth bite into whatever he's eating and pull it off the fork. His utensils never actually reach his mouth. I smile and start picking at my pancakes. I have a reserved appetite. I notice that Madeline is looking back and fourth between us, likely noticing how close our stools are. They are closer than they need to be, that's for sure. I laugh, shaking my head. She looks away, realizing she's been caught staring. Jared looks from me to Madeline with a confused expression on his face. She shakes her head.

“I'm just...” She stops, looking over at me. I laugh.

“Happy for you, Jared. For you, and for us.” I finish, looking over at him. He looks down at his food, and we both start laughing again.

Chapter 10

Picture Perfect

Madeline stayed for a while after her pancake dinner. We played a few rounds of poker over a bottle of scotch. She needed to nurse a hang over and I never need an excuse to drink. It's my night off, after all. I figured I would take advantage of it. It's been a few hours since she took off, heading back to her boyfriend. Jared has been telling me about his night, working for Reggie. He's got a beer in his hand, while I'm finishing off the bottle of scotch.

“He wants me to work on occasion.” Jared announces. I nod.

“It's been a while since you worked in the service industry, it's quite a change.” I warn. He nods, pulling at the label of his bottle.

“Yeah, but, I'm helping out a friend, right?” He counters. I nod again.

“This is true. He loves having you around too.” I agree. He laughs.

“He loves having anyone around.” He observes. I laugh.

“Yeah, he's a social butterfly.” I agree, briefly looking at the couch.

“So, I never asked.” I start, pausing for effect. He raises his eyebrow.

“What?” He asks, baiting me to continue my thought. I bite the side of my lip, watching him fidget.

“What brought you to town?” I ask. I don't tell him about the unfinished business Madeline mentioned. I don't tell him that Frankie told me about their phone call. I have a whole new advantage on him. This game is becoming more and more in my favor and I couldn't be happier. I've been the last to know everything since mid-December. It's taken until the middle of March to gain the upper hand. But, it's better late than never as the saying goes. He's quiet, but makes eye contact before answering.

“You.” He replies, sounding nervous but confident. I nod, looking at the space between us on the couch. I don't know if he means that, or if he doesn't want to address Frankie. I can't exactly call him on that. I can't tell him I already know. When I got home from New York, I told him I never got the chance to see Frankie. I said I got held up with my own issues and that he was too busy to make time for me. I don't know if he believed me, since I didn't hesitate accosting his lips the second I got home. But, whether he believed me or not, he never called me on it. Smart. Although, if he had suspicions, we're starting this relationship off on a bad note.

We talked about that too. At lengths. It wasn't recent, but a few weeks back. One of the bands asked when the engagement party was. They thought Jared was the musician I was engaged to. Neither of us bothered to correct the guy, but it sparked a conversation among us. We talked about how different things might have played out. He asked if things would have been different if he had ever asked me to marry him. I assured him it wouldn't make a difference. All he had to do was ask me to stay. Then we talked about taking another chance, seeing if we could get it right. We were finally on the same page and maybe that meant we could move forward. We do what we can to avoid talking about the past. It can't be changed, so there's no point dwelling on it. Crystal was right when she said it's time to move on. It's important for your future to let go of what anchors you to the past. When I left Hunter, I only missed him because it was everything I had known. I didn't miss laying in the same bed, but being in different worlds. I missed my comfort zone. But I let go.

I lean forward, taking the bottle out of his hand. I put it down on the table beside us and move closer. Slowly. Enough to build the anticipation. I lean in, almost nervously. His lips meet mine halfway to their destination. He moves both of his hands to my sides and lifts me onto his lap. I wasn't expecting such a bold movement, but I won't complain either. One of his arms wraps around my back, holding my body tightly to his. The other presses into the back of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair. He grabs a lock and forces my lips back to his. He shifts his position and I can feel the effect I'm having on him. I moan into his lips and slowly pull back. It doesn't last. He pulls me right back to him and before I know it, we're laying down on the couch. He has me on my back and he's pressing against me. I can't deny I love this pent up side of him. I've never seen him so assertive. It's fucking sexy.

My thoughts are interrupted by the phone vibrating beside me. I only briefly look over as Jared's lips move to my neck. But I recognize the number that's popping up. I softly push him back, much to his displeasure, moving out from underneath him.

“I have to take this.” I apologize. He looks at the gold watch on his wrist. It's a couple hours before midnight, so there's no logical reason to answer the phone. But he nods, running his hand through his hair. The other tugs at his jeans to adjust. They are probably too tight now anyway. I fake a smile, grabbing the phone off the table. I answer it only after I'm out of earshot. The phone call is brief. I hang up quickly and head back into the living room. He's sitting with his elbow against the back of the couch, leaning his head against his palm. The other hand is in his lap, likely to distract from the bulge. I throw my phone down on the table and sit back down beside him.

“That was fast.” He observes, motioning to the phone. I nod.

“Yeah well it was a yes or no thing.” I lie. I lean forward and press my lips back to his. I climb back into his lap and he adjusts underneath me. Both of my arms wrap around his neck and my lips press back into his. This time, he moans and I press my body into his.

“So, I was thinking.” I whisper, moving my lips to his ears. He nods quickly, kissing the words from my mouth.

“One step ahead of you.” He exhales, sliding out from under me. He holds out his hand with a coy smile on his face. I bite the side of my lip as I take his hand. We're halfway down the hallway when I hear the front door open behind us. I let go of Jared's hand abruptly and turn around. Jared hasn't heard the door. The blood isn't going to his ears at the moment. Of course, he's not expecting company either. He turns around when I let go of his hand. I start walking towards the front door, but Jared is frozen in position. I meet Frankie half way to the kitchen and throw my arms around his neck. He kisses me softly, putting a brown paper bag down on the counter.

“I brought dinner.” He announces. I nod, as if to say thank you, then look over to where Jared is. He follows my stare, nodding as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Hi, Jared.” He greets, but Jared remains frozen, Frankie lets his arms drop and walks towards Jared. I watch as they both hesitate, finally standing in front of each other. Jared lightly shakes his head.

“Hi Frankie.” He chokes out. It looks like Frankie is reaching for a hug, but changes his mind last minute. His hand lands on the back of Jared's head and pulls him into a kiss. Jared stumbles back, trying to catch his breath. They both hesitate again. I watch as I pull out the tinfoil containers in the paper bag. Jared doesn't say anything, but his lips find their way back to Frankie's. When he steps back, Frankie pulls Jared into his arms and holds him tightly.

“I've missed you.” I hear Frankie mumble. I smile to myself, trying not to eavesdrop. But, it's not like it's a secret. Frankie already told me how he feels about Jared. But, it's all about the delivery, right? He told me how he planned this moment. It's not going the way he envisioned. But, then again, it never really does.

You can't expect a perfect movie-scene out of any confrontation. Reality isn't perfect, even when you rehearse every single line. Because you can't pause and pick up when you regain your composure. You have to run with your mistakes. You have to improvise. You have to find a way to make an impact.

I look over my shoulder after pulling plates out of the cupboards. The two of them are just standing in the hallway, holding each other close. Neither of them are trying to speak, because the words would fall short. They always do for moments like this.

Chapter 11

Upcoming Surprises

I've grown so accustom to quietly entering my own house. Most of it is to surprise the occupants. But I also like to scan the immediate area so I know what I'm walking into. I'm still not used to the sight I come home to most days. I don't think I ever will be. But I can't deny, I love it.

To think, only a few short weeks ago this seemed like an impossibility. Now, it's happening right before my eyes. It's funny how life comes together in the most unexpected of ways.

I walk across the floor towards the kitchen, only glancing over my shoulder at the two of them in the living room. They're both half-dressed, either for comfort or because they didn't bother getting dressed after. I don't judge either way. They've both worked hard to get here. I notice that the television is on and I can see they both have black controllers in their hands. They are playing some racing game, by the looks of the screen. All I can really see is a highway and two dashboards. I haven't a clue which one it is. Frankie owns so many racing games it would be impossible to keep track of. They are both sitting on the couch, but seem to be in completely different worlds. Jared has both his legs on the couch, crossed and underneath him. Frankie is stretched out, his legs resting on the coffee table in front of him. He's got them crossed and he's rocking his feet back and fourth. He seems at ease, but Jared has a look of concentration on his face that is causing a slight wrinkle in his forehead. There's an assortment of beer bottles on the table too. I can tell some of them are empty, but a few seem to still have liquid in them. This has become a habit for them. Video games and drinking.

Frankie is still back and fourth from New York. But, now he's putting more effort into coming over. It was like once he saw what he was missing, it was hard to pull him away. He comes a few times a week, but he's always gone too quickly. On the brighter side, the tour is creeping up. I'll get to see more of him when it does. We haven't talked about Jared at all, let alone in terms of the tour. I can only assume something is going on between them based on the way they look at each other. But, the same could have been said about me and Jared last week. I don't ask questions, because it doesn't make a difference to me. There doesn't have to be a definition. It is what it is.

The tour, on the other hand, has my full attention. We're leaving on April 3^rd, flying across the country to arrive in California for a show on the 4^th. Crystal and Charlie get back from Australia at the end of March. She managed to call me once while she was gone, to tell me when she'd be back. It's hard to arrange a time to talk due to the time zones. She can't text me because of the difference in cellphone towers. In our brief conversation, I mentioned the tour. She said she'd make sure she arrived home ready to leave right away. She just needed to do laundry quickly. We didn't talk about Charlie, whether or not he'll be staying here. He doesn't have a place of his own anymore. It made no sense for him to pay rent somewhere he never was, so he moved in. All of his stuff has joined Crystal's in her clutter-chaos bedroom. I also didn't have the chance to tell her about Frankie being here. She asked how things were with Jared, if we were behaving ourselves. I told her we weren't, but she said that was fine. It was less that she expected it, more like she had considered it. It was hard to determine her tone of voice over the phone. She could have been sarcastic. I wouldn't know. But, it's a subject we'll approach when she's home. Like the subject of Jared and Frankie.

She's going to be shocked when she gets home, especially if this is what she walks into.

I haven't had many serious conversations with Frankie. We talked about the tour plans, briefly touched on the direction he had in mind for the album. He showed me a few of the songs him and Crystal had worked on over the last tour. He said he wanted to talk to her about hammering out the melodies. He asked where she was, of course. I told him she went to Australia with her new boyfriend. He seemed skeptical about her new love. But, he would. He didn't see them fall into each other when we got here. He’s never seen how Charlie looks at Crystal. There's a sparkle in his eye that must be completely blinding. He can only see her whenever she's in the room. He makes sure that she feels special too. He rents her favorite movies and takes her out for her favorite meals. He listens to her stories and references details much later on. He even pulls her chair out at restaurants. He'd say all of that is just how a man should treat a woman. But we all consider it special. Frankie also doesn't know that Charlie is living here, with us. No one told him that. Why would we? He wasn't here. It didn't really affect him, aside from the fact that he bought the house. He didn't really need to know. Charlie pays his portion of the bills. He buys food for everyone. He's quiet and keeps to himself, mostly. I mean, he's the most opinionated person I've ever met. But, he has some social etiquette. He knows where it's safe to express those judgments and when he should keep them to himself.

I just want it to be a slight shock for Frankie.

I grab a glass from the cupboard and pour it full of orange juice. I don't particularly like orange juice, but I've been a little more health conscious in the last week. I knew there was a tour coming up, but I didn't know the date. I know what tour life is like. I want to be prepared. I'm trying to give my immune system enough of a boost to survive the upcoming weeks. As I drink back the glass, I watch them in the living room. Frankie has already waved at me, acknowledging I'm home from work. Jared is too busy losing whatever game they're playing. He has now said Frankie is cheating about four times since I've walked through the door. I don't know how you cheat at video games. Maybe Jared is just out of practice. After all, when was the last time he sat down and played? That's all Frankie has been doing in New York. When he's not being run through the bullshit of the lifestyle, he's gaming. It's his best friend while he's away. That's why he brings his Xbox on tour. When we're driving for 8 hours straight, he's playing his games. It's the only time he ever gets to himself. It's also why he doesn't like flying, or so he says. I think there's more to the flying thing though. He flies back and fourth from New York all the time. But when it comes to the touring, he doesn't like being on a plane. It can't just be because of the scenery. But he loves to dodge questions like that. In fact, the more I ask questions, the more I realize I just don't know this kid at all.

He begged for years for my time. I finally gave him it. In between, we hardly had the chance to get to know each other. On the brighter note, we'll keep things interesting. Because we're still learning.

Chapter 12

Buzz

After taking my shift at the bar that night, Jared started working as a bartender. He did his best to balance his personal performances with working for Reggie. It wasn't exactly hard work. Serving drinks can be easy once you know what you're doing. Not to mention, I was there to pick up his slack. Reggie might have minded paying two people to do one job, if he wasn't so preoccupied by the amount of money he had been making. He isn't the type to be obsessed with money. He opened this bar because it was his dream. But his dream was leaving a hole in his pocket.

“I owned this bar for five years before I hired you here.” He tells me, leaning against the bar. I'm watching Jared swerve around the crowd, swaying his hips to the music coming from the stage.

“I was barely breaking even. I only made extra money on the nights the bands came in.” He laughs, shaking his head. He's watching the band on the stage now.

“I noticed when you and Crystal started coming around, business picked up. It was subtle, at first. But the longer you were around, the more people seemed to show up. After all, in a place like this, it's rare to have such beautiful women.” He compliments. I can see why so many people think his comments are inappropriate. But I know he means it in the most genuine way.

“I thought, this is it, I'm finally making it.” He looks over at me and smiles. I nod, to let him know I'm listening. I think he's had a few too many, but I won't cut him off unless he starts a fight. If he starts crying, I will call him a taxi and send him home to sleep it off.

“But Jared...” He stops, looking toward him. He's wearing a black apron, to prevent his clothing from getting soaked in alcohol. It'll happen anyway, but, it's a nice thought for prevention. Reggie doesn't continue his story, he stands up and walks to where the band is now coming off the stage. He didn't have to finish the story though. I know the next part. I've seen it with my own eyes.

When Jared started coming around, this place got busy. Busy enough that it could no longer be considered a dive bar. There were too many people and some of them were fairly important. Then, when Jared started performing acoustic sets on a bar stool, there was another crowd that swarmed the dimly lit establishment. Of course, he took it one step further, bringing in a set and creating a stage. That's when the other bands started volunteering to play for the exposure. Last week, Frankie decided to come to the bar to visit us. He ended up taking Jared's acoustic guitar and playing a set on the stage. There were so many people in the bar that the fire department came in and said we were at capacity. So, what did we do? Well, that night, we stopped serving alcohol and moved everyone to the parking lot across the street. The wind was cold, but it carried the sound of the guitar across the crowd.

But, Reggie got an idea.

He decided it was time to expand on his dream. He got a permit and immediately added a balcony onto the sidewalk outside of the bar. This meant alcohol could be served outside as well. This meant the next parking lot performance would be alcohol friendly. He even went as far as buying a special events license, so he could do this whenever he wanted to. He put together a contract with the local police to rent escorts for special events. This way, he was legally covered against everything except serving those who were underage. He had me for that, anyway. He wanted to make sure everything would go smooth and his patrons wouldn't be disappointed. At the same time, he attracted a whole new set of patrons who were interested in the live music and the parking lot performances. Frankie hasn't made a second appearance, but there was another semi-famous band that insisted on playing in that parking lot. The venue up the street that Reggie used to get his business from ended up contacting Reggie. They started talking about possibly combining efforts and splitting the profits.

I think Frankie just wanted to create a buzz, since we're getting so close to the tour. Performing an acoustic set in a parking lot in Illinois was an excellent way to do that. It was even better because halfway through, Jared sat down beside him with a second guitar. The chorus of cheers was almost deafening, but in a good way. I know that every interviewer is going to ask about that performance. He'll tell them it was to get closer to the fans. But, what is he going to say about Jared? The videos of that night are already on YouTube. There are millions of views. There are conspiracy theories now. Frankie and Jared moved to Illinois to fall in love. Illinois is for lovers, after all. It's not exactly far from the truth. But the stories don't include me. I'm wondering if the future is the same.

But I don't think about it. We take it one day at a time. Right now, I'm watching Jared be a waiter, delivering drinks and smiles to every table in the bar. Reggie is offering a round to the band, but they are insisting on paying for their own drinks. They're asking about the next few weekends. Reggie is offering them a permanent place to play.

I don't think Reggie has ever been this happy in his entire life.

Chapter 13

New Additions

We were out at the bar when Crystal and Charlie got in from the airport. I open the front door, greeted by the smell of something divine. It's five in the morning, but Charlie is at the stove.

“Welcome home.” He greets, looking over his shoulder. I throw my coat towards the living room, walking further into the house.

“Don't make a mess.” Jared whines from behind me. I look over at him and shake my head. I look around when I get to the kitchen. Charlie has pots and pans everywhere and he's cooking.

“Are you making dinner?” I ask, groggily. He nods, looking over at me. I notice his eyes widen slightly when he looks past me. He's looking at the man closing the front door.

“Um.” He mutters, looking back to the stove. Crystal flies off the stool she was sitting on and towards the front door. Her arms wrap around Frankie's neck and she starts kissing all over his face.

“Why are you making dinner this early in the morning?” I ask Charlie, trying to figure out what I'm smelling.

“Well, I'm used to the other time zone. It's dinner time in Australia. And, I knew the two of you would be getting home from work.” He answers loosely. I had told Crystal over the phone that Jared was working at Reggie's now too. It gave him something productive to do with his spare time. Charlie still looks out of place, watching Crystal all over this man he's yet to meet.

“Charlie, this is Frankie. Frankie, Crystal's boyfriend.” I introduce, loosely motioning between them. Charlie lets out a deep breath. Apparently, he had been holding one in. He nods, smiling.

“Ah, you're the homeowner.” He comments. I nod, letting my head fall onto the top of the counter. Frankie only came to the bar for a drink, but there were so many people there. It was exhausting. Jared feels the same, I can tell. He's pulled out a stool and sat down beside me. His elbow is pressed into the top of the island, with his head resting on his hand. But his eyes are fluttering closed, like he's struggling to stay awake right now. Crystal takes Frankie's hand and leads him into the kitchen. She pauses, looking at Jared. She looks from him, back to Frankie, seeming confused.

“You're still here.” She observes, now letting her eyes fall on Jared. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. No I'm not. I'm a figment of your imagination. In fact, we all are.” He argues. I push his shoulder, but the sudden movement causes his elbow to slip. He catches himself and looks over at me.

“No existential crisis. It's too early in the morning for that shit.” I remind him. He nods, but doesn't bother trying to say anything else. He's too tired for words. I look back at Charlie.

“What is that?” I ask, finally tired of the guessing game. He holds the frying pan in my direction. There's a delicious looking mixture and the smell instantly wakes me up. He's made tricolor spiral pasta with a homemade pesto sauce. I can see red and yellow peppers in the mix, as well as broccoli. There's a delicious smell of cheese, too.

“The chicken is still in the oven. But I'll be adding it in once it's finished cooking.” He explains, motioning down to the light. I nod.

“It smells so good.” I purr, watching him take the frying pan away. He laughs, shaking his head.

“It'll be ready soon. Don't worry.” He assures, briefly looking over. He puts the pan back on the stove and wipes his hands on the apron he's now wearing. We didn't have an apron. It's his. It says his name on the front. No doubt, a gift from his mother. She spends most of her time sewing, now that she's retired.

“It's nice to meet you.” He offers his hand in Frankie's direction. Frankie nods, shaking his head. He moves up on his toes and reaches into the cupboard above the fridge.

“There she is. Ah, what a beauty.” He sounds excited, pulling down a bottle of wine. I raise my eyebrow.

“When the fuck did you stash wine in the cupboard and why didn't I know about it?” I ask. He motions around the kitchen, placing the bottle in the middle of the island.

“The Realtor stored this here, as a welcome home. But, I never got here. And I didn't want to crack it without my girls.” He motions to Crystal. I nod, picking up the bottle. It's a bottle of red, Dominus Estate. It isn't aged long, but I think the Realtor picked something popular, not something vintage. He looks around the cupboards for wine glasses, but I start laughing.

“Frank, we don't have any glasses. We've barely settled in.” I remind him, motioning to the paper plates that Charlie is separating. Frank laughs, reaching past Charlie for the Styrofoam cups.

“It'll do.” He insists, lining the glasses in a row. He pours the wine into each cup, filling them halfway. Then he hands the glasses out to everyone, leaving the last one for Charlie.

“I'd like to propose a toast.” He starts, looking around the room. We nod, holding our glasses up. Charlie ignores his glass, instead taking the chicken out of the oven.

“To the upcoming New Additions tour.” He starts. I raise my eyebrow, looking over at Crystal. Her eyes have lit up brighter than I've ever seen and now she's bouncing in her seat.

“Are you saying what I think you're saying?” Her voice cracks as she asks. Frankie pauses, looking around the room. Charlie is cutting up the chicken and throwing it into the frying pan with the pasta. I watch him stir it all together, then he starts pouring the combination onto the plates. He hands each of them out, returning to the island with his wine glass. Frankie waits until everyone is sitting down, glasses in hand, before nodding in Crystal's direction.

“Oh my God.” She squeaks, clapping her hands together. I look to Jared, who seems just as confused.

“What is going on?” I ask, letting my tone convey how tired I feel. Frankie lifts his glass, without answering. We raise ours up to his and drink, then he finally says,

“We're expanding.” I'm not amused, crossing my arms.

“What exactly does that mean?” I repeat. Frankie shrugs.

“I said I wanted you on the album.” He volunteers and I nod.

“And Crystal seems to love the lifestyle.” He adds. I nod again. Crystal puts one of her hands on Charlie's lap, now that he's sitting beside her at the island. She's still bouncing in her seat.

“And?” I question.

“Well, you didn't expect that Crystal was going to stay here, did you?” He finally asks. I shake my head.

“No. I thought it was a given that she'd be coming on the tour. But, that's not what this is about.” I accuse, motioning around the table with a fork in my hand. Jared has been sitting quietly, just poking at the food on the plate in front of him. I think he's too tired to function and his brain shut off around three. But he wants to entertain the conversation and attempt to eat.

“And Jared wants to get back into music, I've heard.” He continues, pausing as Jared looks up from his plate.

“Am I coming?” He asks, suddenly tuning into the conversation. Frankie shrugs, leaning forward.

“If you want to, the option will be there for you.” He answers loosely. I nod, then my brain turns on.

“You mean we're already a part of the contract.” I guess. Frankie nods and Crystal squeaks again. Jared puts his fork down on his plate. I reach over and put my hand on his leg and he jumps slightly.

“You mean the girls are a part of the contract, or?” He asks softly. Frankie motions towards him.

“You too.” He corrects. Jared shakes his head, then starts laughing.

“You put me in your contract?” He asks, still needing clarification. Frankie nods, raising his glass again.

“Like I said, the New Additions.”

Chapter 14

Stray Cats

Charlie was thrilled with Frankie's announcement. I think he was only invited to come along by default. Frankie didn't know him, and didn't seem to care. But Charlie sees the tour as an opportunity for his book. He's going to get a bunch of his books printed and have them join us when they are ready. He's never been able to afford a cross-country book tour, so it's going to be different for him. Crystal agreed to help him run the merchandise stand that Frankie has agreed to give him. This is a big opportunity for promoting his brand at no extra cost. Charlie can sell his books and make new contacts. He can really get his name out there. Crystal always wanted to have her own tent on a festival circuit. It was her youth-inspired dream. She told me that she'd see those girls working at the tents and she thought it was the coolest job. It gave them the opportunity to meet all the bands, while interacting with the fans and getting to know what goes on behind-the-scenes. It was a cross of all the best opportunities available on a circuit. It's a little different, running the merchandise at a concert. For one, you already know the band. For another, you talk to more people. Everyone is there for that specific stand, rather than looking around at what might be available. When she talks about the festival circuit, she's talking about Vans Warped Tour. I knew a few of the merchandise girls. Luke was sleeping with a few of the merchandise girls. But, I was behind-the-scenes even then. I spent my festival circuit days smoking pot and drinking beer behind the stage. Now, Crystal decided she wanted her own tent some day, but she had yet to come up with a marketable skill. Being alongside Charlie was a slice of her dream come true. But she was on top of the world, like it was everything she ever wanted.

Of course, her excitement about the tour doesn't overshadow her curiosity towards this household. She stops rambling about the upcoming tour and looks me directly in the eye.

“What is going on with Jared and Frank?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest. We're the only two who are awake this morning. Charlie took off bright and early to get to the printing press. He wanted to make arrangements as quickly as possible with the hope that his books would be ready before we left. I told him either way, he wouldn't be bringing the books on the plane with us. They would have to join us in California. Luckily, Jared still has an address in California. That's where we're staying before driving to Las Vegas.

“I don't think it's my place to say.” I dismiss, lightly shaking my head. I pick up the coffee cup from the table in front of the couch. She's sitting across from me, with both her legs folded underneath her. She's not sitting with them crossed, but she's sitting on them. I look around the living room, mostly to ignore the way her eyes are looking for answers. Our couch is an off-white color. It's not quite beige, but it's too dark to be white. It might border eggshell, but I don't know colors well enough. There's a wide chair behind me, aligned with the end of the coffee table. Another one sits behind her, also aligned with the coffee table. The three pieces of sitting furniture were obviously a set. The coffee table is the same length as the couch. It's got a black metal frame, but there's a piece of glass across that's attached with metal clips. The table has a second level, where the remote for the television is currently sitting. The television is mounted to the wall above a black metal cabinet. The cabinet has compartments and shelves and looks like a piece of art, more than furniture. There's no other furniture in the living room, except for a large rug that sits underneath the coffee table. It's white, with black squares scattered around. The whole room has a pristine feeling with it's white walls and tiled floors. But, until recently, the room had hardly been used. Jared and Frankie made it feel lived in for the first time since we moved in. But it was short lived. A few nights ago, they cleaned it so well it looked like we might have moved in yesterday. I notice that there's an empty beer bottle sitting beside the remote control. I laugh to myself, shaking my head.

“Are you okay with this? I mean,” She asks, sounding sympathetic. I nod, looking back at her.

“I just like seeing that smile.” I mumble, smiling to myself. She doesn't ask which smile I'm referring to. I'm glad she lets that slide, because I don't know if I have the answer. I know that once upon a time, they were in love. They were together for almost five years before Frankie put an end to it. That's a lot of history. History I don't have with Jared, because we were never together that long. On and off, sure. But when we were broken up, we didn't even keep in touch. We lived in different cities and had different lives. Even still, we can't be around each other without the feelings becoming obvious. It's the same with the two of them. They only needed to get on the same page about where they stood. I don't need to be on that page with them. I know where I stand with Frankie. I don't stand anywhere with Jared. I think it's better that way.

I knew Jared was in love with Frankie. I knew it for years. The real reason Hunter would never speak to Frankie was because he was afraid of those feelings rushing back. He spent a long time convincing himself that he had moved on. He can admit now that he actually shut down. He wasn't moving on. He wasn't getting better. He was denying the absence to himself. In a way, that helped him to move on with his life. Or at least gave him ignorance. Hunter lived in his own world. That denial is why he pushed me away. He was afraid of letting me in. At the time, he didn't know I knew they were together. He didn't know I knew why he was pushing me away. He also didn't know I would be stubborn enough to hold on for this long.

That was his word: Stubborn. We talked about it the other night, finally addressing that history. I told him I was in love, so I would stick it out with him, he said I was just stubborn. Jared isn't like Hunter because he chooses to face the reality of the situation. A part of his heart will always be in the clouds, but there's nothing wrong with holding on to a dream. In fact, that part of his personality is one of the things everyone loves about him. He's a hopeless dreamer, the one I once fell in love with. I missed that side of him. I didn't miss the other side. The side that was so lost in his head that he didn't acknowledge the pain. You can't experience the good without experiencing the bad. Life doesn't work that way. Sometimes, it takes a heartbreak to shake things up.

But a heartbreak can do two things to a person: Destroy them and leave them wallowing in self pity or encourage them to rise above their challenges and be something more worthy of love. Either way, there's always a period of acceptance. You are allowed time to wallow. It's important to take time to heal, of course. You've just got to know when it's time to pick the pieces up.

When Frankie broke up with Hunter, it left him heartbroken. He resorted to wallowing in his own self-pity and wondering what he did wrong. He pulled out of reality and ignored the world that was trying to invade his bubble. He kept this up for years, because he could. Then, when I left, it had the opposite effect. Instead of sitting around, he rose above the self-induced challenge to prove he was worthy of love. And, he proved it with flying colors. He just needed a little bit of time to sort out what he wanted for himself. He didn't get better right away. He had to fully understand the loss. More so, what about my absence was leaving him mourning. We were already done. We had broken up years before, but just wouldn't admit it. It wasn't me that he was mourning. But, he had to really evaluate his life to realize he had been mourning someone else for years. He had to open himself up, let himself face reality. Then, the pain of it all started to fade and he was able to move on.

If Jared had never let go of his past, then Hunter would have continued living a bitter lie somewhere in California. Jared wouldn't be coming out of the bedroom right now, hand-in-hand with Frankie. Crystal wouldn't be covering her mouth to hide the fact that she's giggling. We wouldn't be talking about Jared's set list, as the opening act for Frankie's band. But all of this is possible because Jared chose to let go. And because Frankie loves to take in stray cats.

Chapter 15

Time, Estranged

I realize I have a terrible relationship with time. I have trouble remembering things that have happened, and even more trouble remembering when. Time doesn't move the same way for me as it does for everyone else. My brain isn't linear enough. Every minute that passes in normal time is hours in my own time. I see everything happening in slow-motion. It feels like turning the page of a book is taking forever. Unless it's something big. Something tragic. Then, my brain fast-forwards through the sad parts and I come out on the other side of the disaster. I have to write everything down, or I won't remember it even happened.

It's a coping mechanism, I think. It's something my brain started doing when I was younger. It wasn't because I had a terrible life or anything. It was hard, of course. I mean, it's not easy raising yourself. It's difficult to see the adults around you acting like helpless children. I moved around so much as I kid. I lived in 15 different homes before I was 10. I can't stand staying in one place too long, which is probably why I'm so inclined to run. I don't even unpack most of the time. Now, being home is a nightmare for me. The lack of motion, lack of chaos, is chaotic to me. While another person might find comfort in stability, I feel restless.

Of course, if I'm asked about my childhood, I say I had the perfect upbringing. I recite suburbia, a two-parent home and a couple of siblings. I had a dog that I loved. I got good grades in school, getting a scholarship into Columbia. I had friends. I had direction in life. I had security. But I fell in love and threw it all away. Why? Because the worst thing you can do is tell them the truth. No one wants to hear about your tragedy of a childhood, because no one wants to compare their struggles to those of others'. My life was no worse than anyone else. In fact, I think it was fairly easy, all things considered. I never include the fact that in my youth, I spent time homeless. Living on couches and running from something that always caught up.

That's the thing about pain. You can never escape what hurts you if you live in a state of denial. The only way to overcome your pain is to embrace what pains you. If you can't embrace it, your brain develops those coping mechanisms. My brain decided; time, estranged. It helps to fade the days into weeks and the months into years. It helps to not remember what I've left behind so I don't spend the future dwelling on the past. I think about what has been and what will be. But I can't do it for too long. My relationship with time reminds me at every chance it gets that we've fallen apart. We call each other, on occasion. We send cards at Christmas. It's the polite thing to do, after all. But we're not friends. We're not family. We're strangers, time and I.

The only time I feel at peace is on tour – where no one else has any concept of time, either.

Frankie and I talked about that during our tour with Luke’s band. He actually had a stable upbringing. He had two parents and grew up in the same home. He had a bunch of siblings and family pets. His parents were still in love, which was crazy to me. He wasn't popular in school, but he wasn't bullied either. He was average. But, the restlessness was in his heart. He had a desire to see the world that was hibernating in his soul. The first band he had was a joke, but it gave him a glimpse at the world around him. He wanted to see more, know more, do more and be more. He wanted more. Period. We joked about settling down, what a drag it was. I told him that my boyfriend wanted to settle down, he told me his did as well. We actually bonded initially over the wanderlust of our hearts. Although it was all said in passing, he sparked something inside of me. I had a thought I had never had before about settling down with someone. Him.

I considered it more than I should have. But, it seemed logical. For us, settling down would have only been emotional. Physically, our home would be a tour bus. The location would be ever-changing. We would have thrived in our lifestyle of tours and music. The smell of sweat and bodily fluids embedding into the hair in our noses. Our muscles tired from always squishing into bunks. Coffee becoming the only way to start the day. But, I considered it. I know he did too. When that tour came to an end, he asked me to consider it a reality. We had bonded, we had so much in common. We wanted the same future and it only made sense we would spend it together. I told him I'd consider it when we got off that bus. But I got home, told Hunter. He got that phone call and everything changed.

I think it shook up my reality. I had indulged in these ideas with Frankie, but my future was with Hunter. I was going to stick it out with him and find a way to make it work. So, I said no to Frankie.

Then Frankie started dating Blake. They ended up touring together. Blake was a tour photographer for a world-famous band and Frankie was a homeless roadie. So, Blake invited him along on that tour. It was a big deal, since the two of them were an item. It made the band uncomfortable, but Blake did everything he could to get Frankie on that tour. It was entirely coincidental that someone overheard Frankie singing in an empty dressing room that summer afternoon. The manager of the band they were touring with asked to speak to Frankie the next day. He asked Frankie if he had ever considered being a professional musician. Frankie recalled his first band, how it was just a fun thing. He never saw it as a real career, but he loved playing music. He had written about 40 songs already and that was an impressive number. He was offered a contract on the spot for an album and a tour. That manager said he knew talent when he saw it and he wanted to turn Frankie into a star.

But, had I said yes to Frankie when he asked for that chance, he never would have met Blake. They never would have gone on that tour together. He never would have been heard. Never would have been offered that contract. He never would have seen his name in lights. Had I said yes when he asked for that chance, we would both be technicians, touring alongside famed bands. We would be backstage, drinking and cleaning up after their messes. We'd be telling stories to other stage hands and sharing laughs with the bands we worked for. Ultimately, we would have been in the background, helping others make their claim to fame.

But, I said no. That no from me gave Frankie the world.

We laugh about this as we board the plane, heading to California.

Chapter 16

Former Lover

California feels like a stranger. It's been so long since I've seen her. We got on the plane in the afternoon, but lost two hours during the flight, arriving just before noon in California. The flight itself was so short, I barely noticed it. I'm normally a nervous wreck, but I guess my mind was elsewhere. I spent the whole flight thinking about those bright brown eyes. When we landed, it took an hour to get our stuff from baggage. In the meantime, Crystal wandered around the airport with Charlie. We may have left only a few short months ago, but it's been years since Charlie has been in the city. She has plans to take him sight seeing later, since the show isn't until tomorrow. We had our timing mixed up, because we intended to go to Jared's after the show. But, we have to get on the bus after the show and head to Vegas. The hotel room is booked in Vegas already. When we finally get our luggage, we pile into a limousine headed to Jared's house. There's a package on the front step underneath a tarp. It's addressed to Charlie, so likely the books he got pressed. I pause at the door too, but for a different reason. Everyone else heads inside, but my feet are stuck to the front step.

It's been so long since I've been here. The last time I saw this house I was taking my stuff out of it. Now, I'm bringing my stuff in, but the circumstances are so different. It's weird to be back at the house of my former lover alongside his new lover. I never thought I'd come back here. I never wanted to either. But, there was no reason to stay at a hotel. I let out a deep breath, seeing it faintly in the air in front of me. It's not exactly cold, but there's enough of a chill. The welcome April winds are light, filled with the smell of spring. Charlie didn't even bring his winter jacket, used to the Illinois winter winds. He knew there was no point bringing something bulky that he'd only wear for a few days. Instead, he wears a pullover sweatshirt with his company name silk-screened on the front. He had a few of them made for the tour as well.

Jared can tell I'm hesitant, coming back outside. He reaches for my hand and I jump.

“I'm sorry, I just,” I pause, trailing off. I don't want to offend him when I know how hard he's trying.

“It's weird for you. I know. You don't have to explain.” He smiles, tilting his head slightly. A strand of his hair falls in front of his eyes, attracting my attention. I look down at the ground slowly, trying not to be too obvious about looking away. I can feel my heart racing, like it's trying to fight its' way out of my chest.

“It is. I just, didn't think I'd ever be back.” I agree, mostly under my breath. He nods, looking into the hallway.

“I'll understand if you don't want to stay here. I mean, you never wanted to come here in the first place.” He jokes, and I fake a smile. This is true. I never liked this house. It never felt like home to me. I moved in because he asked me to and I wanted to make him happy.

“Believe it or not, I know I fucked up.” He adds, taking a step closer.

“It doesn't change anything now, though.” I observe. He shrugs, looking around the yard. He seems like he's in his own world.

“I don't know about that.” He argues. I raise my eyebrow, looking over at him. There's a smile on his face, but I can't figure out why. Then he reaches for my hand again. I let him this time.

“As long as we're both breathing, I believe there's time to get it right.” He whispers. I fake a smile.

“Jared, it doesn't work that way.” I remind him, but he just laughs.

“It can. We just need to give it more time. Like you always say. There hasn't been enough time to heal from everything we did to each other. But, who knows what the future holds?” He trails off. I look down at our hands, his fingers wrapping around mine. Maybe he's right.

I step forward and we walk inside together. I let his hand drop as we get into the living room. Crystal has already made herself comfortable, draping over the arm of the couch. Charlie is sitting beside her with one of his arms over her chest. Frankie is sitting in the middle of the floor beside the coffee table. He's paging through a guitar magazine that Jared had laying out.

“What time are we leaving?” Crystal asks, looking up at Charlie, he shrugs and looks at Frankie.

“I was thinking about an hour. But if you want to leave sooner, let me know.” He answers, putting the magazine down.

“You're going sight-seeing? You've lived here for years.” Jared asks, walking into the living room. He sits down on the couch beside Charlie and Frankie looks over at him, nodding.

“I may as well. Nothing else to do today.” He dismisses. Jared nods.

“Wanna come?” Crystal asks, looking over at him. He shakes his head, motioning to the ceiling.

“I have to uh, pack.” He reminds everyone.

“Speaking of. I have this meal in mind for tonight.” Charlie announces, walking into the kitchen. I watch him digging through the cupboards, pulling out spices like he's lived here for years.

“I threw everything out the last time I was here.” Jared calls to him. Charlie waves his hand, looking at the bag of lemon seed he's pulled out. He starts pulling out pots and pans, creating a stack on the counter. Finally, he walks to the China cabinet and pulls out enough plates for everyone. Those same plates that have never been used because Hunter never invited anyone to our house.

Jared looks over at me at the same time I look at him. Somehow, in five minutes these people made it feel more welcoming than the months we lived here together.

Chapter 17

Luck, Be A Lady

Jared has always had an insecurity about going home. If he can help it, he'll avoid getting anywhere near Las Vegas. It wasn't always like that. Sure, he was happy to leave it all behind. He hit the road when he graduated high school and never looked back. His father passed shortly after he started his band and he didn't even care. But since the band broke up, he's had reservations about the city. He didn't want any of his bandmates to call him on the split. He wanted to avoid the confrontation. Crystal came up with an idea that was so insane it might work. Of course, I didn't think he would be comfortable with it, but he was. In fact, he seemed eager to see the results. He said he was more interested to know if she could actually pull it off. He agreed that it was a good way to avoid the spotlight. He couldn't be called out if no one recognized him.

Well, no one was going to recognize him, that's for sure. He didn't want the attention. He wanted to blend into the background and be invisible. There is no way he is going to be invisible. All eyes are going to be on him. People are going to watch every step he takes. There are going to be male stage hands chatting him up. He's going to seem like the next big thing. Beautiful and mysterious with curves that could kill.

Crystal was always a Goddess when it came to her living canvas. She was even able to make me look presentable for television. He was no exception to her magic. She accounted for every single detail, carefully putting him under a microscope. She was clearly intent on perfection. She nailed it. He walked into the room and all eyes were drawn to him. I wouldn't even recognize him anymore, if it weren't for the eyes. There was no tricking me, even if he was wearing blue contacts now. The sparkle in his eyes was all I needed to know it was still him. She really knows what she's doing when it comes to enhancing all the right features. The right blush to bring out the shape of his cheek bones. The right lipstick tone to enhance those full, pouted lips. The right eye shadow to draw attention to his eyes. She has really turned him into a walking work of art, and it shows.

She even had the entire back story worked out for him already. Her and her fairy tales. There was still a lingering question of what exactly this beautiful woman was doing touring with us. What relation could she have to the band? Crystal settled on him being related to Charlie. The two look nothing alike, but it was the only viable option. She can't claim Jared is her relative, because everyone would have questions. Frankie couldn't claim him as a relative either. Everyone already knows his family. They've met most of his siblings at a show or through his social media posts. He couldn't announce a new sibling because it would set off red flags. We briefly entertained that the relation could be to me. I look the most like him, anyway. I guess we look for ourselves in the people we love, or I'm just insanely narcissistic. Either way. That option came with the most questions. I look at him too often, I smile too wide. One observant reporter would make this look like the strangest family ever. There's no good spin on that kind of publicity. In the end, we settled on the relation being to Charlie. His family history is a secret, even to some of his closest friends. I don't know why there needed to be a relation at all. This beautiful woman could just be a friend of ours.

But, Crystal had this idea in mind and no one corrected her. Jared was going to be Charlie's sister, Rachel. The worst that could happen was the same too-observant-for-their-own-good reporter would think I swing both ways. There's nothing wrong with that. It's not true, but I have nothing against homosexual relationships. That's obvious with what goes on in the bed I share. Rachel is also a mute, because there's nothing feminine about Jared's voice. Hopefully it means no one will ask him questions. His voice is too deep to pass off as a woman's. Especially when he laughs. There's a soft tone to it, but nothing feminine.

Before seeing his attire, I wouldn't think there was anything feminine about his features. But, the way the dress is hanging off his hips is inviting. The black nylon fabric clings to his shape, flaring out just above his thighs. The black stockings he's wearing are making his legs appear more slim than they actually are. Crystal even put him in these sleek black heels that make his feet look smaller than they actually are. I've never considered what Jared would look like as a woman. He looks better than I ever would have imagined. It seems oddly suiting. He's even carrying himself with grace. If you didn't know, you wouldn't. There are no tell-tale signs, unless you're looking over every single detail. But, seeing him dressed this way has started to play tricks on my mind.

I can see that it's having the same effect on Frankie, who looks like he's struggling to breathe. Originally, Frankie said it was the most ridiculous thing he had heard of. Of course, he couldn't hide his own curiosity either. Now, it looks like he might be trying to catch flies with how far his mouth is hanging open. It doesn't seem to dawn on him that everyone is now staring at him and not Jared. There aren't many people around, but the few stage hands are watching him with confusion. After all, this random girl just walked backstage with Crystal and Charlie and here is Frankie, staring like his eyes have met the most beautiful sight in the world. I'd agree with him at this point. I don't think I've ever looked as good as Jared looks right now.

I don't even think Frankie realizes what he's doing when he steps forward and kisses Jared. It's not a friendly kiss either. It's the kind of deep, passionate kiss you might share with someone you're intimate with. I see one of the stage hands looking over in shock. I can only imagine what's running through his head. I'm standing right here. Frankie's fiance. The fiance he introduced to the world. But here he is, now lip-locked with another woman. But I'm not even the slightest bit upset. I'm smiling widely, watching the two of them together. It makes my heart happy to see them together after so much wasted time. That stage hand is probably thinking Frankie is the luckiest person alive to have a fiancee as cool as me. He'd be right. I'm pretty awesome.

Frankie steps back and Crystal pouts, lightly grabbing Jared's hand. She turns Jared to face her and sighs, loudly. She looks back over at Frankie, biting the side of her lip.

“You ruined the lipstick.” She mumbles. Frankie laughs, wiping his lips off with the back of his hand. Sure enough, there's a red streak across his hand. Jared resists laughing, muffling a slight giggle. His eyes light up like he might consider laughing anyway.

“Shit. I'm sorry.” He realizes, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets. Crystal shakes her head and starts dragging Jared towards the bathrooms. Frankie looks over at me and I smile.

“I felt it too.” I agree. He nods, looking around. There's only one stage hand who saw. Frankie nods, looking over with a plea in his eyes. The guy cracks a smile and calls over,

“You lucky fucking dog.”

Chapter 18

The Book

If you watch the trees for long enough, you might believe they could come to life. Pull their roots out of the ground and stomp along the highway. The branches lightly swaying as they propel forward. The sound of the leaves rustling creates a whisper that sounds like words if you're listening close enough. Right now, I can only hear the hum of the bus underneath me. These bunks are more comfortable than the last ones we were on. No memory foam this time. I'm sitting in the lounge with my legs pulled to my chest. Everyone else is asleep right now, but I just couldn't get my mind down. Instead, I watch the trees as we pass them. The leaves are half-off the trees, still trying to grow back from a cold and bitter winter. Global warming is making the winters colder, but Mother Nature just keeps going. The seasons keep changing, one ending and another beginning. It's funny how even nature lets go of the old, to make room for the new.

I hear footsteps from beside me, but I don't bother looking over. He sits down on the couch behind me and wraps one of his arms around my chest. He pulls me across the couch and into his arms. I look up at him, smiling as his lips press into mine.

“Can't sleep?” I ask, nuzzling into the crease of his neck.

“Never can.” He answers, laughing. I drop my legs down, letting my feet hit the floor. I adjust myself to lean against his shoulder and he adjusts his arm around me. He reaches forward with his other hand and grabs mine. I lace my fingers with his, feeling his bones.

“You're as skinny as a dime.” I comment, tracing his hand with mine. He laughs, lifting our hands up.

“You're one to talk.” He teases, holding my own hand in front of my face. I shrug, mostly looking at his fingers around mine.

“I'm small. I'm allowed to be skinny.” I dismiss, pushing our hands away. He laughs, but he doesn't say anything. I can feel his heart beating through his hand. His pulse has picked up. It seems being this close to one another has that effect. Our bodies are trying to synchronize to each other. I smile against his shoulder and he rests his head against mine. It doesn't matter that our heads know there's no point. Our hearts are still in this. They always will be.

I've never let myself want anything in this life. I saw everything as temporary. If you want something, you risk the disappointment of never getting it. You spend forever holding on to an idea of something that will never be yours. Or, you get everything, only to have it shatter into fine dust when you lose it. To want something is to give something power over you too. If you aren't strong enough to chase your dreams, you'll believe in your heart you are too weak and give up hope. If you can't hold on to what you had, you might believe you're inadequate. Whether it's a life goal or a lover. Wanting can be a dangerous thing. Sometimes, it's better to just dream. Dreaming is nice. You can imagine and pretend about these ideals. You can think about them all the time, but never truly consider acting on them. So many of us believe our dreams will never come true. We simply keep dreaming for the possibility that they might. The uncertainty of it all keeps us thinking there's a chance. Even when we know better. Grown ups know better than to believe in fairy tales. Those are for small children who haven't suffered what the world will certainly do to them one day. Heartbreak. Pain. Divorcing parents. Losing faith. Misery. Hopelessness. Poverty. Everything else that comes with growing up, being human and being alive. But, when you let yourself get too caught up in all that bad, you forget to look for the good. You start convincing yourself it's not even there.

Yesterday, Crystal started talking about the book. She believes she has found her niche, her direction. She spoke about some of the tour stories she wanted to include. I listened to every word, hanging on to the way she told those stories. It's not about what you do. It's about how you do it. That's why touring will always be exciting to her. She's open to the experiences that she's being given. Everything is new and exciting because she simply lets it be that way. It turns out that she's been on just as many tours as I've been on. She hasn't left the continent, but it's all the same to her. She could see the same city twelve times and it would always be different. Because she's never stopped looking for the beauty in the world. She's never let the clouds of life take away her sunshine of hope. There is something admirable in the way she can find beauty in the ugliest of situations.

Her philosophy about life has started to seep into the pores of my being. I've started to understand what she meant about the negative energy in the world. I catch myself before I think too much. I stop myself from making useless comments. I let myself smile at him, without questioning what it means. The negative energy doesn't stop at words, but includes thoughts as well. I know that the more I think about what this is, the more pressure I put on it. I want to let it develop on its' own. I want to see what this has the ability to become. Even if that means leaving it unspoken. We were always good at ignoring what was right in front of us, after all.

The more Crystal tells me about the book, the more I push for her to write it. She's already started compiling ideas. She's been making lists of the stories she wants to tell. She's been scribbling phrases down on whatever she can find. She starts with a sentence and it becomes a paragraph. I think she'll have it written before the end of this tour, honestly. When we get home, she can type it up. Charlie will have it sent to the printer right away and get a hundred copies pressed. I'm sure she'll sell them right away. I'm sure she'll be a hit. Although I originally laughed at the idea, I've started to see the value in her life story. It's not about what she's done with her life. It's not about who she knows or where she's been. It's not even about who she has been. It's about who she is, deep down at the core. No matter what details she'll change about herself, she has heart. I think that matters more than anything else in the world. Especially since we walk among those with fake hearts.

You can't put a value on something that's priceless. You can't put words on a feeling of absolute purity.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, after a long silence. I let out a deep sigh, looking up at him.

“I guess, you.” I answer, biting the side of my lip. He nods, running his other hand through my hair.

“Yeah?” He asks, baiting me to continue. I don't bother, instead humming against his smooth skin. He smiles and I can feel the muscles in his neck moving as he does.

“You're going to make me ask?” He asks, lightly laughing. I shake my head, moving back. I stare at him for a minute, waiting for his eyes to meet mine. Then, I lean forward and kiss him again.

“I love you Jared.” I whisper, letting the words hang in the air. He smiles against my lips, pulling them back to his. Both his arms wrap around me and he pulls me into his lap.

“I love you too.” He says with conviction, pressing his lips to my forehead. I smile, resting my head back on his shoulder. I curl into him, moving my hand to his chest.

I can feel his heart beating the words.

Chapter 19

Studio Time

Frankie booked a practice space for the day off in Salt Lake City. Having read his contract over, I knew he had agreed to put together an outline of the album. The record label wanted him to fast-track something they could sell. It was one of the only things they asked for in order to sign him.

I don't understand why he's brought all of us in to the space with him. It's a wide practice space, with a variety of instruments scattered around the room.

“It belongs to a friend of mine, so, he let me have it.” He assures, motioning around. Crystal immediately bolts to the drum kit. She drops down, scooping up a set of sticks laying on the floor. She starts wailing on that thing like her life might depend on it.

“I didn't know you knew how to play the drums.” Frankie observes. Crystal shrugs, lightly tapping the sticks on her knee.

“I taught myself when I was 10.” She answers loosely.

“Try the piano.” Frankie suggests, sitting down on the small couch. Jared picks up one of the guitars and starts improvising a riff. We all look over as Crystal hits the wrong note on the piano, making a sour chime. I start laughing, crossing my arms over my chest.

“You can't play the piano? It's the most basic instrument.” I question. She shrugs, hopping off the stool.

“I never bothered learning. There's nothing rock and roll about it.” She says as she rolls her eyes, like it should be obvious enough. Frankie laughs, shaking his head. Crystal picks up the rhythm guitar and joins Jared. Charlie, finding one of the electric guitars, joins as well. I watch Frankie, instead of the three jamming. Jared is throwing suggestions at Charlie about which notes to play.

“I haven't played since high school.” Charlie confesses. It shows. His fingering is sloppy and he's hitting the wrong strings. But he has a clear ear for rhythm, easily mimicking Jared. If he works on his fingering, he might be a great guitarist. He's definitely got potential.

“What are we doing?” I ask, mostly directing the question to Frankie. He looks over his shoulder at me, motioning around the room. I can see something in his eyes, but I can't tell what it is.

“Having fun.” He lies. I nod, walking into the room. I sit on the edge of the couch, watching the three of them play. Jared puts the guitar down and heads to the drum set. He can play any instrument handed to him, the same way Frankie can. He's fluid with everything, though sounds a little out of practice behind a drum kit. I recognize the song Jared is playing as one of his own. Crystal pauses, then picks up the rhythm he's setting. She doesn't have an ear for it the way Charlie does, but it's enough. She creates a rhythm that matches his drumming and Charlie joins in. I don't know how to play many instruments. I know how to play the piano and I know how to play the saxophone. I can play the flute and once upon a time, I could play the bass guitar. But I haven't touched an instrument in years. Music was never a passion for me. I didn't even play as a hobby.

The longer we sat in the practice space, the more it became clear what Frankie had in mind.

I knew it wasn't a random thing. There was a reason we were in that practice space. I was the only one asking questions. The rest of them were just enjoying themselves. No one even realized, but hanging out in the studio was an audition. Frankie didn't name the tour the New Additions. He changed the name of the band.

Chapter 20

Uncertain Future

We found a small diner at the heart of the city, arriving just before the dinner rush. The restaurant was a cute Italian place with a red and green theme. The staff was dressed in black uniforms, wearing the name of the restaurant in bright red lettering across the chest. It wasn't deserted, either. Most of the tables were full. But, the management came to the front of the house to personally seat us. Frankie gets recognized everywhere we go, after all.

“I'd like a bottle of champagne.” He orders as we're sitting down. The waiter nods, darting off to the bar. The owner comes over to the table with five menus, handing them to each of us. He's an older gentleman in his late 40's. He has graying hair with bald patches on both sides. He's got a well-groomed mustache on his chubby face. He pairs it with a wide smile and sparkling eyes.

“Let me know when you're ready to order.” He announces, heading to another table. There's a lull of conversation at the table, mostly about what everyone is ordering. I'm not hungry, deciding on a salad. Frankie insists on ordering appetizers, because it's a special night. Now, I'm not the only one who seems to be questioning him. Jared shifts uncomfortably in the seat beside me. We didn't plan how we were going to sit, but, it happened anyway. Crystal and Charlie are on one side of the booth. I'm sitting across from Crystal, against the wall. Jared is sitting beside me with Frankie on the outside. After the champagne arrives, Frankie says he's making a toast. Crystal says

“To the New Addition tour?” She asks with a giggle in her voice. Frankie shakes his head and the truth finally comes out.

“Are you fucking serious?” Charlie asks, his hands dropping on the table. Crystal's laughter has suddenly died and she's staring at Frankie with her eyes wide open.

“We’re going to be a real band?” She asks, looking over at Charlie. He's over the moon and it's obvious. Back at the practice space, he said something about buying a guitar when he got home. He had never given music a real thought, figuring it wasn't a real career. So, he sold his guitar and moved on. He said the whole thing was making him miss music.

“You'll be famous by association.” Frankie laughs, putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder. Charlie leans over the table, almost knocking over the champagne glass in front of him. He wraps his arms around Frankie, who laughs as he returns the embrace. Crystal is still sitting quietly, which is unusual for her.

“How would that work?” She finally asks, sipping at her champagne. It seems the initial shock of the announcement has faded and she's interested in the technicalities.

“Well, this is what I'm thinking, but, I'm open to suggestions,” He pauses, looking around the table. The lack of commentary has him continuing with his grand scheme.

“I'm obviously going to sing and play the piano, like I usually do.” He starts. Crystal nods, agreeing. Her hand is slightly shaking from the excitement. A feeling that Charlie seems to share.

“I figure you can sing with me during some of the songs. You can be a back-up vocalist, or we can work on some material and do a back and fourth sort of thing.” He continues. She nods.

“Like, one verse you. The next verse, me?” She clarifies. He nods.

“Then, Charlie can obviously play the guitar. I mean, he needs practice, but, he'll get there, I'm sure of it. The same with you.” He continues, still talking to Crystal.

“For some songs, we'll have you playing the drums. I'm thinking, you and Jared will switch back and fourth. It'll create a nice blend.” He adds, motioning from Crystal to Jared. She nods, seeming to be lost in thought. She's moving her hand around the air, like she's creating a stage in her mind. Then she pauses.

“What about her?” Crystal asks, motioning in my direction. It's the first time I've been a part of this conversation, so I look up suddenly. I was content staring at the checkered print of the table cloth.

“I'm thinking Jared can teach her bass. I mean, it's not a hard instrument to learn. I know a lot of useless musicians who can play.” He jokes. Luke comes to mind. He was a terrible bassist, but everyone loved him because of his presence. You don't have to be talented if you're loved. But I'm neither.

“I think this is great.” Crystal exclaims, clapping her hands together. The manager comes back over to the table and asks what the celebration is about. Frankie boasts about his new band, motioning to everyone at the table. The next thing I know, we're joined by the staff. Then, we're joined by a few random fans. Then, we're surrounded and everyone is cheering and celebrating. The atmosphere is joyous and everyone seems to be having a good time. Except for me and Jared.

I don't think Frankie is thinking this through. After all, what would it mean for his relationship with Jared? He can't let that become public knowledge, because the backlash would be too much to cover. Even with the best PR, his reputation would be ruined. Not because Jared is another man. He'd be willing to cross that bridge. But, because of my inclusion in that relationship. There would be too many questions and a whole new world of pressure. Jared was easing himself into the spotlight by playing at Reggie's. He's not ready to be thrown center stage. That's the reason he hasn't been the opening act, even though that's what Frankie had planned. He didn't want the attention. This is a sudden looming feeling over the two of us. A feeling the rest of our party doesn't share.

But a gift for the two of us, who now share this concern. We are now a unified front about something. I think he realizes the same thing as I do. Under the table, his hand finds mine, squeezing gently. And I squeeze back, letting him know that I'm here. I'm right here with him for this uncertain future of ours. Because it is ours.

Chapter 21

War With Words

It's only been four days since Frankie made the band announcement. Charlie has been spending every minute practicing his guitar. He is really fine-tuning his sound. I give him another day or two before he'll be ready to join Crystal and Jared on stage. Charlie laughs every time he messes up a chord, but I feel like I'm wasting my time. I am not getting the hang of the bass. There was a day off between Boise and Portland, which Jared dedicated to showing me the basics. I understand the idea, how to make the sound, but putting it into practice has proven difficult. I didn't really expect I'd catch on that quickly. I haven't even learned what the notes are called. But I still hoped I'd have a better sound by now. Charlie tried to make me feel better by saying he already played his instrument. I countered him, saying I learned to play the bass when I was living with Luke.

Frankie believes my heart is in music. I asked him why he would think such a strange thought. He said I sing whenever I'm happy, belting out songs from the radio. He says I dance whenever I'm in a good mood, so the rhythm is living in me. He thinks I've got some ideal about performing. I tried to tell him that I don't. The only performance I'm interested in is that of my pen. Yes, I've written a few of my own songs. I've even come up with the melodies for them.

He's heard me humming them on many different occasions now. But, I'd never pursue music as a career. I'd never want to. Still, I try to humor his idea, even if I'm not good at playing the bass. I'm just not passionate about music the same way they are. It was never a consideration for me.

At the end of our lives, what we leave behind actually sizes up the accomplishments we've made. To have a certificate that says you're a psychologist means nothing. To have a handful of people you talked through their issues, passing your knowledge along, that's a legacy. They don't have to be big accomplishments. You don't have to be a star at all to leave something behind. You just have to leave something meaningful. There's a saying that I've commit to memory: Write a book worth reading, or live a life worth writing about. Every choice you make, every single day, should be decisive of what you leave behind. I know that my writing will be the difference I can make in this world. It will be what I leave behind. I am the most passionate about my writing.

The only part of the band I'm actually enjoying is the writing process. Jared and me have been working on music. He's also been working with Frankie. When the two of them are writing together, it's like a war with words. Both of them are such creative people. They use fluid wording and mix in a handful of metaphors. They live inside of the words they write. It doesn't matter if the words make sense or not. They each have distinct ideas in mind and want to bring them to life. Crystal will occasionally add her opinion on the lyrics, but mostly sticks to the melodies. I don't know anything about the melodies, but I have a lot to say about the lyrics.

I actually wanted to be a lyricist. I wanted to pen the kind of songs you'd hear on the radio. I wanted to write lyrics to manufactured music. A product or a brand that could sell, sell, sell. I wanted soccer moms and kids alike to listen along. I also wanted to include hidden undertones that only the true hearts would catch on to. A musical form of subliminal messaging. I wanted to say something important, hidden in those dance songs on the radio. But, there's no band looking to hire a lyricist. I could sell my lyrics to a random pop artist who doesn't write for themselves, but that feels hollow. The kind of people who buy store bought lyrics are the people who don't know hardships. They know a bit about motivation and working towards a goal. They know heartache and lying friends. They know trust issues and family drama. But, they don't know anything about real pain. They can't sing with conviction if they don't identify with the words. They can't say something worth listening to because it didn't come from the heart. You can only write so many songs about the basic experiences of life. Then, you have to start searching your soul for deeper context. Deeper meaning. Too many people are afraid of that concept. Those are the people who ask someone else for their soul to dress up and put music to.

I can't write for those people. I need my words to make an impact. With Frankie, I know that my voice will be heard. He's already established his fame, so my words can live on through him. He's made it clear that he'll use whatever I ask him to. I have creative freedom. It's a dream come true, even though I've never mentioned it to him. He's good at reading me, even when I want to be the toughest book to figure out. The hardest cover to crack open. A curse on everyone who gets too close to me. He doesn't seem to care. He wants what he wants and he goes for it. Right now, I'm what he wants. In order to get me, he has to break me down. So he's had to deal with the paper cuts in the form of my passive-aggressive comments. I don't even mean to make them, but sometimes, they slip out. I mean, we're not perfect. There's no such thing as perfection. We are attracted to each other for the imperfections anyways. So we argue, but he never lets it turn into a fight. He doesn't want to look back in a year, two years, a decade, and think about how bad it was. He wants to look back and see all the obstacles we've dodged.

Some of my comments are about Jared. It's not that I'm jealous, but I worry about the future. I worry about what will happen when they start fighting. Or when Jared and I start fighting. It's only a matter of time. Since the day we met, we've gotten under each others' skin. That's why the sex is always amazing. We lit a fire inside of one another that is uncontrollable. It's only a matter of time before the gasoline starts leaking. I tell Crystal my concerns. She says there's no sense in worrying, it ruins the surprise. That, the more time I spend thinking, the less time I can spend living. The calming tone of her voice usually soothes those insecurities. I wish I could fall in love with her, but I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship.

Chapter 22

Family Matters

Frankie agreed to have an album concept by the time the tour was done. The songs and melodies will all be written. He wants to record the rough drafts on his laptop as well. Once home, we're going to New York. We're going to get into the studio right away and record our parts. Then, the label will have the album. They can hold onto it for a little while, creating a buzz. Then it will come out with a bang. There are three people in this band who understand the industry. We figure it'll be easy to make the most of the contracts. Jared knows a lot about working around album execs and unrealistic time lines. After all, he did have a career of his own. Even if I read his contracts at first, I wasn't always around. At some point, he learned for himself. He learned how to dance around the red tape. Since Frankie managed to screw over his old record label, I assume he's skilled as well.

When we got to Winnipeg, Frankie bought me a saxophone. He joked that he would find a way that I could play it on stage. Maybe, we'd use it in the background of the songs on the album. I didn't pay any attention to the words he spoke after he handed it to me. It felt surreal holding a saxophone. I wasn't sure I'd even remember the notes. I certainly didn't remember what any of them were called. But, it was like my fingers knew they were home. They knew every button to push. My tongue knew how to press into the reed. My lungs knew the amount of air that was needed to make the right sound. Everything felt perfect. He took my hand right after and said it was a gift. His way of saying thank you. They got me on stage two nights before. I wasn't thrilled about being in front of the audience, but I knew it would bring his vision to life. His touring band was dismissed the day after Charlie joined them. Frankie had just been playing guitar, while Jared and Crystal alternated between bass and drums.

Jared seemed to warm up to performing on stage, too. It's been years since he was in a band. So, he isn't used to working with other people. His last band was very opinionated, but they weren't passionate. It was a job to them. It was something that paid the bills and could make them famous. Hunter used to tell me they were all in it for the wrong reasons. So he dropped the band and attempted his retirement. But the music flowed through his veins like blood and he had to start playing again. He settled for acoustic sets, instead of trying to market himself as a solo artist. I don't think he ever had plans to tour again. He seemed uneasy as soon as I walked out on the stage though. I think I'm his problem with performing. He was lively for every show. He walked out onto that stage with purpose and confidence. He had none of the nerves he used to have when he performed. I guess it's because he was a real band now. But when I joined him the other night, it was like he lost a part of himself. I seemed to be the only one who noticed, so I haven't said anything.

If I can help it, I won't make it a point to go on stage. I'm not interested in being the center of attention.

Crystal has been working on her manuscript in every minute she has to spare. She thinks this band will be the perfect addition to her story. She's already traveled, she knows it all off by heart. But, she's never been in a band. She's only jammed with her brother back home. She said that yesterday. It was the first time I heard her talk about her family. No one asked her any follow-up questions, but it peaked my curiosity. She told me she didn't have a rough life, but I figured that was relative. I figured she was trying to see her past in a positive light to avoid facing the darkness of reality. But, if she had a brother she could jam with, maybe it was really an average childhood. After all, Frankie had a normal childhood and he still turned out this way. Maybe they both had real, loving families.

I don't understand why they would leave that behind. At the same time, I wouldn't. Since I didn't have a family of my own, I could never know what I was missing. Maybe, I wasn't missing anything in the end. Maybe not having a family was freedom. After all, so many people are determined to leave theirs behind. They have different visions of the future or they just want to experience the world. So they leave home, either against their parents' wishes or with their blessing. But, leaving none the less. I didn't really have to put up with that. Yes, my mother argued me. She didn't want me to leave, because she thought I was too young. But, I couldn't take her seriously. She gave me no reason to. Jared's father didn't care when he left. He didn't even bat an eyelash.

We left our families behind because they did nothing but bring us down. They left their families behind because they wanted to rise above. We all have our own reasons for the same decision. The idea of a band has made me think about the unity of the members. I've started to think of the bigger picture, about what it all means. I may not be a great musician, but it feels like we're a part of something much bigger than ourselves. This is a chance for Crystal to truly change the world. This is a chance for Charlie to create a buzz and watch his books fly off the shelf. This is Jared's chance to express his thoughts without a negative band turning them down. This is my chance to reinvent myself. We set out on this journey, hoping to build friendships. Somewhere along the line, we built something more. It started as a band, a musical connection. But, it's grown into something else entirely.

We've become a family. A family that truly matters.

Of course, there's no guarantee about tomorrow. There's no certainty. Each day is a gift, meant to be lived in the moment. Like Crystal always says: Don't worry about tomorrow because it ruins the surprise. You have to enjoy the ride. You have to find little moments that make it enjoyable. Life is a learning experience, but you have to be willing to learn.

Chapter 23

The Industry

If you've ever been in a band, you know the industry can be fickle. Music is a living creation. By itself, it can be a world of magic, transporting the listener to a different place. The writing process can do the same for its' creator, allowing the expression of feelings that might otherwise be bottled up. Music itself is a gift to all. But the music industry is nothing more than a monster. It feeds off the souls of those foolish enough to get close enough. Those who aspire to be musicians; take note. The industry isn't looking for creative individuals. They aren't looking for words that come from the heart or music the comes from the soul. They aren't interested in ideas or concepts. They are looking for products. They want music that can be manufactured. Names that sound good on the radio or in print. A look that fits with the style. They want a product they can sell. If you arrive with your heart in your hands, they will take it from you. If you express your real feelings, they will silence you. If you are opinionated, leave before you even walk through the door. Unless you offer a world of controversy, because that can sell. But you're an individual with ideals, you're never going to make it. The industry doesn't want any of that. They want little kids with big starry eyes who want to live the dream. As long as you can be sold, you can have the world at your feet.

There are some who try to change the industry – but I see more people fail than succeed.

Luke’s band was together for over five years before they announced they were breaking up. In that time, they had released four studio albums and three acoustic concept albums. The first two albums were rich with personality. They were penned from the heart and it showed. The band enjoyed playing together and there was no animosity among them. They were getting played on the radio. They had money and fame. But they were happy, even under the bright lights. At first. The third album came out as an apology. The front man having been under the bright lights for too long. He tried too hard to please the media outlets that offered criticism for his personal decisions. Although the band was doing well, he, personally, was not. He had created such a buzz around himself. He turned the band into a product, without ever stopping to ask them what they wanted. By the time their last album came out, they were broken. They had completely forgotten the reason they started playing music in the first place. Every member had turned against one another to the point they wouldn't speak off-camera. It started as an argument that the other members wanted more recognition. The front man had drawn too much attention to himself and it wasn't fair. He wasn't even the singer. He wasn't a fantastic bass player either. His only real contribution to the band was his lyrics. But, he was the only member with charisma. So, everyone wanted to see him front and center. He was asked every question during interviews. He was offered endorsement deals. He was given television appearances that didn't even include the band. That is why the animosity started growing between the members. Everything was about him, but it was never meant to be that way.

They started that band in the early 2000's with nothing in mind but playing. They sang songs for their friends and toured in the back of a white van that broke down on too many occasions. But they were happy, even when they were broke. Because they were doing what they loved to do. When it became a product, it became a job and there was nothing left to love. There was nothing left to hold onto. When you've got nothing to hold on to, you start to fall.

I watched as that band fell apart. I saw with my own eyes the bickering that took place off screen. For every show, they put on happy faces and attempted to act like everything was fine. But, they didn't even keep in touch. Their manager sent messages back and fourth whenever one of them needed another. The interviews were laced with snide comments and angered expressions. The members bit their tongues to avoid arguing in front of the cameras. But, behind them was another story. A story that truly shows the heart of the music industry and how it can tear apart even the strongest friendships. It was the front man's decision to end the band. He said the world needed a little less of him and bowed out of the spotlight. The other members went on to do their own thing, but he kept himself tucked away until he felt he was ready to start again.

The reunion of the band was a shock to the entire world. But, it was different the second time around. They knew what to expect and they had built armor to protect themselves. The front man stepped down, letting the other band members have the spotlight. He kept to himself in interviews and offered his screen-time to the others. They went back to making music that they loved. They fought the industry. But they didn't win. The years of silence took so much out of them that there was hardly anything left. The band may have pulled itself back together, but, the front man had to change everything about himself to get there.

That front man was Luke.

After the show at Madison Square Garden, I introduced him to everyone in the band. He already knew Frankie and Jared, so there was no need to make those introductions. He even knew Charlie from his early Illinois days. Crystal was the only person I actually introduced him to. There was a brief round of “what have you been up to” questions, before the rest of the band took off. I follow Luke to a small cafe outside of the venue. We both order coffees and I grab a blueberry muffin because I missed lunch. He seems to be at a loss for words, sitting down across from me.

“So, what brought you to the show? Or, Madison?” I ask.

“I heard you were in a band. I had to come check it out.” He answers, staring into his coffee cup. Like the answer to life is at the bottom.

“What did you think?” I question, picking at the muffin. He shrugs.

“It's funny you should ask that. I actually came here to tell you exactly what I thought.” He starts, laughing to himself. I raise my eyebrow, staring at him from across the table.

“I had this big grand speech planned. I was going to warn you about the dangers of this fucked up industry. About how soul-sucking these labels can be. Or, how draining this lifestyle is. I know you've been around it before. But, you were, well,” He pauses and looks down at the table. I roll my eyes, trying not to feel insulted. He likes to forget I was a big help over the reunion tour. Instead, he lets his mind focus on the first few tours I went with him on. Back then, his manager was paying me to keep him out of trouble. I suppose I was a high class call girl, but I worked for the money too. I didn't stand around doing nothing, even though I could have. I still had my dignity, even though I had no self-esteem. Of course, I also thought I was in love at the time. But, that wasn't love. He, wasn't love.

“I know all of that, Luke.” I remind him, letting pieces of my muffin fall on the table. He shakes his head, slowly sipping at his coffee. When he looks up, I notice there's a pain in his eyes.

“I just, wouldn't want the same things to happen to you. I went through so much, we went through so much. You deserve better than this life.” He assures. I smile, reaching for his hand.

“Thank you for your concern, but, we know what we're getting into. We're not just a band. We're a family.” I offer. He laughs.

“Yeah. I heard about you and Frankie, the pending wedding.” He mumbles, seeming distracted.

“Crystal and Charlie are together too.” I add, smiling as I take my hand back. His eyes go wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He barks, his voice raising in volume. I shake my head.

“We're a family.” I repeat, but it's met with more laughter.

“I don't believe in the whole 'family enterprise' thing. It's ridiculous.” He argues, talking with his hands. He goes into a rant about how unreliable Charlie is and how Frankie was always a basket case. I only listen with half of my heart, entertaining his rambling. I know where he's coming from. The entertainment industry can ruin families. It can ruin relationships. Hell, it ruins people too. Luke is a shining example of all three. But, he doesn't understand where I'm coming from. Frankie doesn't have a label to answer to. He can replace his label at the drop of a hat, and has. He has done his part of bending and breaking. He rose above it, made his own claim to fame. He makes the music he wants to make and the label he's signed to simply puts their heads down and lets him. They get no say, as long as his records sell a certain amount. He sure knows how to bargain. I wish I had that bargaining skill when Hunter was first starting out. I would have got him better record deals. I would have made sure he had more creative freedoms and room to breathe. I would have made sure his contract couldn't be the death of him. But I didn't know anything, neither did Hunter. A few years later, and we're experts.

“I've got to get going. We're leaving for Des Moises in half an hour. I can't hold them up.” I announce, standing up.

“Yeah. Tight schedules.” He agrees, also standing up.

“I'll walk you back.” He volunteers and I nod to be polite. The walk is in silence, and I look around the darkened streets. There are still a few people milling around outside of the venue, but most of them have cleared out. We parked the tour bus around the corner, trying to hide it from the view of the public. We didn't want to be harassed by fans. Luke stops when we approach the tour bus.

“I'm sorry if I came on too strong. I know you're independent. I know I'm paranoid. But I worry. I mean, really, I don't want to see you go through the same thing. And, given your history with Jared.” He pauses, looking down at the ground. I take a deep breath.

“If I hid from anything that could hurt me, I wouldn't do anything.”

Chapter 24

Wallpaper

We had a day off between Greenville and Tampa. Instead of staying in Greenville, we decided to keep driving. We booked a hotel in Tampa for the following night. I didn't even think about where we were staying, but we ended up in the exact same hotel. I know there are other places in Tampa, but I always seem to end up at this one. I head to the reception desk when we arrive. I grab keys for the two rooms and toss Crystal's to her. After checking in, we head to our separate rooms to drop out suitcases off. Jared is in his own room this time, while Frankie and I are booked in the room next to his. Crystal and Charlie are on a different floor entirely. Within minutes, Crystal is down at our room, knocking loudly on the door. Frankie opens it, letting her into our room.

“I want to go to the beach. I want to go swimming, I think.” She announces, looking around the room. I raise my eyebrow.

“It's the first week of May.” I remind her, but she shakes her head.

“And?” She counters, and I have nothing to say to her. I know that it's warm and the sun is shining brightly. For Charlie, this may as well be summer. I look at Frankie, who seems to enjoy the idea.

“Come on. We could use the sun. Well, you could. You're pretty pale.” He insists. I shrug, rolling off the bed I was laying on.

“Okay. Fine.” I agree, heading towards the door. Crystal skips out, meeting Charlie in the hallway. Jared opens his door right as I'm about to knock. We both laugh and I motion down the hall to where Crystal is jumping in front of the elevator. He raises his eyebrow.

“Where are you going?” He asks. I shrug.

“The beach apparently. These people are insane. Do you want to come along?” I look back at him. He seems to pause, then nods.

“Yeah. Sure.” He agrees, closing the door to his room. The elevator arrives as we meet Crystal in front of it. She's already calling a local taxi service to drop us off at the beach. It's not a long walk, but, none of us feel like exerting energy if we don't have to. The taxi is already waiting outside when we get to the lobby. Crystal steals the front seat, while the rest of us pile into the back. I'm fairly small, so I end up practically on Jared's lap. He doesn't seem to mind. Crystal has already spun into a story about the last time we stayed in this hotel. She recalls the Halloween party and how I was being a sour puss. I look at Jared briefly, forcing myself to look away. I barely remember the last time we were at this hotel. I don't remember that Halloween party at all. My mind was preoccupied with the other time I had stayed there. My head was in a different hotel room with a seashell collection and Jared.

When we get to the beach, Crystal decides she wants to go swimming. Charlie agrees, sure that the water is probably warm enough. It's Florida in May.

“I'm not getting in that water.” I dismiss, sitting down in the sand. Crystal shrugs and starts pulling off her shirt. No one packed swimwear, so she's decided to go in her under garments. Charlie pulls his shirt off too, leaving it on top of hers. They head towards the water, hand-in-hand.

“I'm going to grab a dip too. It's been a while since I went swimming. I could use the water.” Frankie announces, motioning towards the ocean. I laugh, opening my arms.

“Be my guest.” I insist through the laughter. He nods, and chases after Crystal. I watch as he grabs her, lifting her into his arms. Charlie laughs as Frankie throws Crystal into the water. She starts yelling and splashing the water in Frankie's direction. Charlie doesn't hesitate diving in himself. I feel the sand shift beside me and look over to see Jared sitting down. I smile in his direction and he returns it.

“How long has it been?” He asks, letting the words float off with the slight breeze. I laugh. I wondered if he would remember that hotel. If it struck him the same way it had struck me. The unchanged wallpaper with beige and green swirls that line the narrow hallways. The elevator with the mirror on the ceiling. The small rooms that feel too cluttered with the ugly curtains. The ugly truth.

“Five years.” I answer, pulling my knees up to my chest. He nods, resting his arms on his legs.

“And they are still using the same wallpaper. I guess some things never change.” He observes. The words feel like they are implying something else and I shake my head.

“Yet, so many things have. I mean, that wallpaper is faded now, losing all of it's color. I mean, sometimes, change is inevitable.” I ramble. He looks over at me, teasing the side of his lip between his teeth. I let myself stare for a few seconds longer than I should, then look back at the sand. My mind briefly finds itself on another shore.

“I think time forces change.” He adds. I nod slowly.

“It does.” I agree, looking down at the sand.

“But, maybe if the change was forced by time, there's a chance it was never meant to happen. I'd like to think, if it was never meant to change, it can always be changed back.” He finishes. I look over.

“I think, it's time to let go. Move on. Upgrade that old and jaded print with something new and flashy. Something that works, maybe.” I argue. He nods, looking out towards the water. I follow his view and we watch the other three splashing around. Then he looks back over at me and smiles. It's like the sun itself is radiating from his lips.

“I don't care if it is faded. It's beautiful. I wouldn't change it for anything.” He persists. I laugh.

“We're not talking about the wallpaper, are we?” I ask for clarification. He shakes his head.

“I know that we weren't working. I know we've done a lot to each other. I think, I probably did more,” He pauses, faking a smile. I laugh, leaning forward on my knees.

“Yeah. I'll say.” I agree. He's quiet for a minute, then reaches for my hand. I let him take it.

“But we could, now, I mean. If you're willing to give another shot.” He trails off, looking lost. I lean forward, pulling his hand towards me. He looks over and I quickly kiss him.

“Jared, I'll always be willing.”

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.

Chapter 26

Wait

We were all so sure he would show up on time. He would be alive and well and ready to get going. But two hours after the bus was supposed to leave Detroit, we're stuck waiting.

The first hour, only Crystal seemed to be worried. The rest of us figured he just was running late. The second hour, Jared seemed to be on edge. Then, our driver, Christopher, started complaining about the schedule. Frankie knows the schedule we're on. He knows we have to get on the road. But, he's still no where to be found. I tried calling his cellphone, but every time, it went straight to the machine. That means he has his phone turned off, which is useful. Crystal tried calling the hospital, but it wasn't any help. Besides, there have been no reported accidents in the city. So, it seems like Frankie is still alive and well. We even called the hotel to see if he had gone back at any point. The receptionist informed me that he had checked out in the early hours of the morning. I expected that much. Still, she said she would call me if he showed up. It was a temporary relief.

The bus is parked in an abandoned parking lot, the second bus waiting patiently behind us. I look out the window, pressing my forehead to the glass. I remember this parking lot. When I lived here, I was trying to be a model. I came here with a photographer friend to try and build the portfolio. At my first audition I was told I didn't have the presence to be a star. I didn't. But I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm hardly the same person I was last month. I'm in a state of constantly changing, trying to adapt to the world around me. But I can't adapt to this. I can't adjust to being the frustrated manager of my fiances band. Surrounded by friends and lovers who are equally as frustrated. A road crew that wanted to be leaving an hour ago and a bus driver that's complaining about the schedule.

If any of us had James' number, we'd be calling until we got an answer. But none of us do. None of us thought to ask Frankie for it before he left. We assumed Frankie would be his usual responsible self. He is usually so on top of everything.

“Let's just call random numbers in the phone book.” Crystal suggests, whining slightly. I laugh.

“Does anyone know his last name?” Jared asks. I loosely nod.

“Yeah.” I answer, uncertain. I know that Frankie told me a while ago, when he was telling me how excited he was to get to Detroit. It's funny that we didn't stop here to see him the last time we were touring. Maybe he was too busy. Crystal looks around the bus.

“We don't have a phone book.” She observes. I roll my eyes.

“Shocker. We don't seem to have anything.” I mutter.

“So, all we can do is wait.” Jared announces, leaning back on the couch. He's got one of his legs crossed over the other and his hands sitting in his lap. His back is pressed into the couch, while his head is resting against the wall. Crystal stands up.

“Fine. I'm going to bed.” She complains, stomping towards the back of the bus. I watch her walk away, my eyes landing on Charlie. He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Wait.” I repeat, still staring out the window. Wait. Be patient. But none of us have patience left.

We sit in silence for another half an hour before there's a knock on the bus door. Jared sits up, looking towards the entrance. He heads towards the front of the bus, even though Christopher is already opening the door. When he comes back, there's a look of disappointment on his face. One of the roadies is standing in the entrance, tapping his foot on the floor. He looks frustrated and angry and he's crossing his arms over his chest. There's a radio hanging from his belt and someone is talking on the other end.

“Where the fuck is he?” He barks. I motion around.

“Not here.” I answer dismissively. He lets out a deep sigh.

“They are running out of patience.” He complains loudly. I nod.

“Everyone is. But, there's not much we can do.” Jared defends.

“We have somewhere to be. You know we can't wait forever. We have a tight schedule right now.” The roadie continues.

“There's nothing we can do. The show can't go on without him. If he doesn't show up, there's no show at all.” I mutter.

“Take it easy, Joe.” Charlie soothes, looking towards the roadie. He shakes his head, throwing his arms up in the air. The radio almost falls off his belt, but he grabs it. The voice on the other end sounds rushed and equally as angry. Joe takes a deep breath, turning it off.

“What are we doing?” He asks, to no one in particular.

“Look, this is the best idea I've got,” I start, making up a plan as I go.

“You are going to leave, head to the hotel. We'll wait.” I finish. Joe stays quiet for the first time since he got on the bus.

“We can't just leave you here.” He argues. I shrug.

“That's the solution. You guys know where you're going, where you're supposed to be. We know how long it takes to get to Cincinnati. So, we'll meet you at the venue, worst case scenario.” I offer. Joe is quiet for a minute, then he nods. At first, just a casual nod, then growing more excessive.

“Yeah. Okay. I think that will work.” He agrees, turning around and walking off the bus. I hadn't given much thought to the other bus. I knew they were frustrated, but it was for a different reason. They all slept on the bus last night, where they've slept for most of the tour. But, they get a hotel night in Cincinnati. A chance to stretch out their limbs and get a proper night of rest. Of course they are excited about crashing. I look over at Charlie, who is playing with the sleeve of his shirt. He seems uncomfortable.

“How do you remember the names of the roadies?” I ask. He shrugs, leaning forward. He rests his elbows against his knees.

“I used to be one, remember?” He asks. I laugh.

“Right, because I know what you were up to when we weren't in touch. No, I didn't know.” I laugh, adjusting to face him. He nods.

“Well, I was.” He finishes. I nod.

“I was also a roadie. I still can't keep track of the names. I only know what they do.” I argue. Joe is the guitar technician. He tunes all of the guitars, but his primary is Jared's. Jared travels with his own guitar, so he only trusts certain people to handle it. The drum set has another technician assigned to it. There's someone in charge of sound and someone in charge of security. Everyone has a specific job. I can place the face to the job, but never with a name.

“Maybe I've just met too many people in my life. I can't remember anyone.” I mutter, finishing my thoughts out loud.

“I didn't know you were a roadie.” Crystal announces, rolling out of her bunk. The three of us turn to face her, sure she would be asleep by now. I nod as she sits down on Charlie's lap. Her arms wrap around his neck and she puts her head on his shoulder. Jared adjusts his legs to give her more room.

“Yeah. I've been on the road for years. That's actually how I met Frankie. Well, the second time.” I answer, confused about how she wouldn't know that. Then it occurs to me that she didn't hear that part of our history. The only thing she knows about our history is what she heard on that television appearance. It wasn't even a true story, just a romanticized fabrication. Crystal raises her eyebrow and I shake my head. I don't want to think about the second time. I regret even saying it. I know that Jared knows. We talked about it. But, I don't want to think about it. Not now.

I lean forward and grab the schedule off the table. It's got each of the tour dates on a list. Under each location is the arrival time and the time of departure. There are stars beside each city with a hotel night. This was one of Frankie's ideas to help keep everyone on track. I was the one who put them together, of course. But, it was his idea. I made everyone a copy of the schedule, including the second bus. Their schedule is actually taped to the wall behind the drivers seat. I sigh, looking at the time line. If we don't get on the road pretty soon, the hotel booking will be canceled. Hopefully the road crew will still get their rooms, but ours will be gone. I throw the schedule back on the table and stand up. I head to the drivers seat, putting my hand on the wall above my head.

“We've got to get going. We don't have the time to wait.” I observe.

“Are you serious?” Jared asks from over my shoulder. I turn to see he's standing directly behind me. I didn't hear him following me. I nod, looking back at Christopher. He seems hesitant, but starts the bus. The whole thing jerks slightly as he pulls out of the parking lot. I head back to the lounge, sitting back where I had been. Jared sits down beside me, instead of on the other couch. Crystal has slid off Charlie's lap and is now sitting beside him. She's got her legs draped over his and her arms still wrapped around his neck. I look over at Jared, who seems disgruntled. I put my hand on his knee.

“Frankie knows where we're going to be.” I remind him. He nods.

“What if he doesn't show up?” He asks. The thought hadn't occurred to me. Jared drops his head against the window, looking at nothing.

“Well, we do have another option.” Crystal starts, looking directly at Jared. He looks over at her, raising one of his eyebrows. I follow her train of thought, shaking my head.

“No. We can't do that. You can't ask him to. There has to be another option.” I argue, letting my eyes find Jared. He sighs.

“You want me to sing.” He clarifies under his breath. Crystal shrugs.

“It's that or, cancel the show I guess.” She offers. Jared shakes his head. We're all quiet until he says,

“If he doesn't show up, I'll do it.”

Chapter 27

The Show Must Go On

We're impatiently waiting in the dressing room of the venue in Cincinnati. We still haven't heard from Frankie. His now-assistant manager is consistently checking reports from Detroit. She's calling the hotel every couple hours. She's even started calling random numbers in the Detroit phone book with the hopes of finding him. So far, she's had no luck and there's only an hour before we're heading on stage. Between phone calls, she's asking me if this is typical behavior for Frankie. If he's often gone missing in action. She's been on this tour too. She knows he hasn't taken off before. But she's a representative from his new label. She doesn't know his typical behavior. I ignore her rambling about how much trouble we're going to be in if he doesn't show up. I leave the worrying to her. The rest of us are getting ready for the show.

The opening band is some local group that was able to come last minute. Usually, Jared does the opening set before joining us. But, tonight we need his vocal chords. We can't let him strain his voice by opening. Right now, he is walking around the dressing room doing a vocal warm up. He's been doing this for almost 45 minutes. He's looking at the set list and singing a verse from every song. He's trying to make sure he remembers all the words. Crystal is still freaking out, claiming something must have happened to him. Charlie is doing his best to keep her relatively calm. He's taken her for three walks since we got here, insisting the fresh air would help. It seems to, temporarily. I understand why everyone is on edge though. It's an awkward situation. I think Frankie just forgot who he was for the night. Maybe with James he feels like a different version of himself. He entered a different world. But, he'll come back to this one. He'll be here before the show starts. He has to be. This is his band and his life. His entire career is on the line. He'll be here.

The support band wraps up and joins us in the dressing room. They are joined by a handful of friends and family members, milling around the room. Everyone cracks open beers and celebrates the exposure. There's an atmosphere of celebration all around us, but none of us can feel the vibe. We're too busy panicking internally. The singer of the support band, Justin, is asking about our usual support band. Our manager is rattling off a story about how they couldn't make it tonight. Jared is staring down at the ground, awkward and out of place. He can't believe this is happening. Neither can anyone else. Joe comes into the dressing room, motioning towards us.

“It's time to go on.” He calls, looking around the room.

“He here?” He asks, and I shake my head. I tap Jared on the shoulder and we head towards the stage. Crystal walks into the lights first. She's followed closely by Charlie. Jared hesitates, looking around the dressing room. I gently grab his hand, offering a supportive smile.

“You'll be great.” I promise him. He nods, taking a deep breath. I walk onto the stage before him, but he follows closely. Joe hands him his guitar and he walks up to the microphone.

“Thank you for coming out tonight.” Jared calls into the little metal ball. There's a loud chorus throughout the audience, who seem pleased to see Jared in the spotlight.

“Frankie couldn't make it tonight, due to a bad cough.” He pauses and the audience boos.

“Yes, I know. It's unfortunate. But, we want him to get better, so we're letting him rest.” He adds.

“So, for tonight, you've got this gorgeous devil instead.” Crystal yells from behind her drum set. There's more cheering from the otherwise restless crowd. Jared flashes a smile in Crystal's direction and she yells the 1, 2, 3. Jared kicks off into the first song on the set list and the audience cheers even louder. I can see Jared is intimidated by the bright lights. It's one thing to play guitar and sing in the background. There's a whole other pressure when you're playing guitar and singing lead. By the third song, Jared seems to have warmed up to the idea. His movements are fluid and he's actually looking at the crowd. Charlie breaks into a random guitar solo at the end of the song. Jared copies him and they do a five minute epic of strings. The next song on the list is one that I sing with Frankie. When I'm not on stage playing, I come out for this song. We didn't even think about taking it off the set list. When Charlie announces it, I suddenly feel an uncomfortable shift. Jared starts the song, singing into his own microphone. Half way through the song, he's sharing mine. Although the words were written by someone else, I feel a connection. I know Jared feels it too when he looks into my eyes. I smile through the chorus, without even thinking. Then, he moves back to his microphone and we finish the song.

Aside from the absence of our singer, it's the best show we've put on.

After the show, we join the support band in the dressing room. Our crew, on the other hand, heads to the hotel for that hotel night they were looking forward to. Justin and Charlie make it through a case of beer within an hour. Crystal goes through a bottle of wine to herself. Everyone is laughing and chatting and having a good time. We're congratulated on the success of the show, even by the manager. The whole time, Crystal is entertaining everyone in the room with random tour stories. She gushes about the Halloween party we went to, how she made me dress up with her. She talks about the time she met Alice Cooper. She has a bunch of stories that the average person wouldn't have and she just keeps talking. She has the attention of everyone in the room, which makes the air feel lighter. The more she talks, the easier it becomes to ignore the situation.

But it's not just Frankie's absence we're avoiding. Jared and I dodge looking at each other, afraid our eyes will say what our lips can't brave. There's a new kind of energy between us. A new kind of connection. It was more than just a good duet. We worked. We worked in a way I never could have imagined. I know he felt it too. We could keep doing this if we had to. It works without Frankie. Maybe, other things would too.

We all go our separate ways after about two hours. Crystal and Charlie head to the hotel, while Jared and me linger around the empty venue. We're sitting on the edge of the stage with our feet dangling in the air. I would say we're waiting for Frankie to show, but I think we want to hold on to the magic for a little while longer. In case it doesn't follow us when we leave.

“I can't believe he didn't show up.” Jared mumbles, still looking around. The floor is littered with bottles of water and red solo cups. Discarded and abandoned after briefly being loved.

“Me either.” I agree, not knowing what else to say. I want to be reassuring. I want to offer him something, anything, to take his mind off this. But, there's nothing I can do. We both know Frankie well enough to know this isn't like him. He's never just, disappeared. That's more our style. But, he has. So, we're left wondering what it means, and not just for the band.

“Let's get going.” I insist, nudging his shoulder with mine. He sighs, but nods, climbing back up to his feet. I jump up, following him towards the exit. There's a light rain outside, which neither of us had expected. But, it's half-way through May and the rain is warm. I hail a taxi when we're outside, climbing into the back seat. Jared climbs in behind me, rattling off the address for the hotel.

“You know, I've got to admit,” He starts, looking out the window at the rain rolling down the glass.

“It felt good. It felt,” He pauses. I smile, looking over at him. I put my hand on his knee and he puts his hand on top of mine. We wrap our fingers together and he looks over.

“Natural?” I offer. He looks at our hands, then back at me. There's a smile on his face when he does.

“No. It felt right.” He corrects.

Chapter 28

Fire

It was hard to sleep last night. Frankie's absence was felt throughout the group. A few of the roadies were starting to worry too, although they thought the show was great without him. There was still a looming question of “what happened”. Crystal feels bad that we just left him there. She asked if I was sure he would know to catch up with us. I honestly don't know, but, what else would he have expected? Assuming nothing is wrong with him, he knows we had a show. We have to keep this moving forward. If something had happened to him, Christine would have been able to figure it out by now. After all, she is his manager. She has been pulling every string. The phone book search turned out to be useless. No one even knew who James was, let alone where he might be.

Crystal sighs, kicking her shoe against the side of the bus. I look over at her, raising my eyebrow.

“Hey, the bus didn't do anything to you.” I remind her. She shakes her head, looking around the parking lot. It's a beautiful morning in Cincinnati. It's a shame we have to leave it behind. But, we have to be in Harrisburg in a few hours. We've already compromised the schedule by waiting the extra hour.

“I can't believe this.” She groans, crossing her arms. She lifts off the side of the bus, where she had been leaning. I shrug and she follows me onto the bus. Christopher looks at me, hopeful and I just shake my head. Crystal drops down on the couch beside Charlie. Christopher starts the bus. The jerk of the sudden motion is familiar by now. But, I'm not expecting the second jerk when the bus stops. I stand up, walking to the front. I intend to ask Christopher what is going on, but I don't have to. I notice the two of them standing outside the closed doors with suitcases in their hands. Christopher opens the door and Frankie gets on the bus first. He's out of breath, like he's been running to catch up with the vehicle moving on without him.

“Nice of you to finally join us.” I bark, mostly frustrated by the delay. He nods, looking at Christopher.

“I'm sorry, I know we're on a tight schedule.” He apologizes. The driver shrugs, starting the bus up again. I step aside, letting him move further into the bus. The second man steps up behind him. Frankie takes both suitcases and heads to the back of the bus.

“We're not off to a good start.” The second man observes, holding out his hand. I lightly laugh, shaking it.

“Stealing my singer, disappearing with him for almost two days? Leaving us high and dry with no idea what even happened. Yeah, I'd say that's a pretty rocky start for sure.” I joke, attempting to laugh. But it's a forced laughter, because I'm emotionally exhausted.

“I'm James.” He introduces. I nod again.

“I figured that much.” I motion with an open hand to the rest of the bus. James nods and heads into the lounge. Jared has moved to the other couch, sitting beside Charlie. James sits down on the empty couch, smiling at the rest of the passengers. None of them smile back. Even Charlie seems uncharacteristically aligned. Normally, he would be neutral. Frankie comes back into the lounge, dropping down beside James. I remain standing, mostly to avoid picking a side. It's become clear that alignments have been made and I don't want to get involved if I can help it.

“This is James.” Frankie introduces, looking around the bus. There's a lull of forced greetings and Charlie even fakes a smile. The displeasure of the band is obvious.

“So?” I start, crossing my arms over my chest. Frankie shrugs, looking around the bus.

“Man, I couldn't explain if I tried. It's been a crazy couples of days. But, I'm here now. That's all that matters, right?” He asks, cheerfully. Jared shakes his head, standing up. He heads to the back of the bus. I watch the way his shoulders tighten as he gets further away, disappearing into his bunk and pulling the curtain closed.

“Is he mad at me?” Frankie asks, looking from Jared's bunk to where I'm standing. I raise my eyebrow, unsure if he's asking seriously or not. Then it occurs to me that he doesn't understand the aftermath of his actions. He has no idea. I don't even know what to say to him, but I'm not given the chance to articulate something.

“Of course he's fucking mad. You left us, without a fucking word. We had to leave you in Detroit, not knowing if you were alive or fucking dead. Now you show up like it was no big deal. Life keeps going, right? Why fucking worry? It's all good. Well, fuck you. We're all fucking mad.” Crystal yells, standing up to impress her point. My eyes widen as I look in her direction. I've never heard her swear, because she says swearing is negative. Even if you're using it in a positive way. I've also never seen her angry, if you could use that emotion to describe whatever she's feeling. I think it's something beyond anger, even beyond rage. There is a fire in her eyes, burning bright enough to burn the city to ashes. It's not a flattering look on her. She doesn't give him the chance to reply, either. She flips her hair, then stomps towards her bunk. Charlie looks over at Frankie, shaking his head. Then he stands up and follows behind Crystal. I shake my head. I wasn't expecting that reaction, but, I feel it was deserved.

Maybe Luke was right after all.

Chapter 29

Silent Sound Check

Crystal didn't move from her bunk until we arrived in Harrisburg. Even then, I had to convince her to brave the world outside her curtain. I only saw Jared once, but he came out when Christopher announced we were at the venue. Needless to say, it was an awkward trip. It didn't get any easier during sound check either. Crystal was still so angry she refused to even look at Frankie. If he would try talking to her, she would blatantly ignore him. It was childish, her way of coping I suppose. On the rare occasion she had to acknowledge him, she shot daggers in his direction.

Luckily, Charlie decided to resume his neutral approach. He apologized for his reserved reaction earlier, aiming the apology at James. After all, he was greeted with a cold shoulder by everyone. They spent most of the sound check making jokes back and fourth. Charlie was only upset because of Crystal and Jared. Like me, he thought the show was better without Frankie anyway.

We're finishing sound check when Crystal pulls me out into the hallway. She's pacing back and fourth.

“I'm going to take a walk.” She announces, biting and pulling at her nails. I nod, looking towards the stage.

“I'll be back in time for the show. Don't worry.” She assures. I nod.

“I wasn't.” I answer loosely. She nods.

“Good. You know I won't put everything at risk, like some people.” She assures, trying to turn her sour expression sweet. She fails, but I understand where she's coming from. I don't want to argue her, anyway. I don't need this sudden burst of anger to be directed towards me. I nod, and she heads further down the hallway, pausing before she reaches the exit. I head back to the group. Charlie has already headed towards the door, but he stops. He looks over at Jared, and motions for him to follow. Jared jumps up without a second thought and they head after Crystal. He also pauses at the door, looking over at me. I shake my head, motioning for him to go. He looks down at the floor, like he's debating his abandonment of me. But then he looks up and nods and he's gone. I drop down on the couch beside James. His arm is stretched across the back of the couch, but he adjusts himself when I sit down. He leans forward, looking over at me.

“Are they always like this?” He asks, motioning towards the empty doorway. I shake my head slowly.

“No. But, I guess you don't know what people are actually capable of until it happens.” I pause, looking at Frankie. He's sitting on the couch opposite of us, leaning back.

“Okay, everyone is pissed. I get that. But, like, why? I missed one show. It's the first time I've ever bailed on you guys. I just,” He pauses leaning forward. He presses his elbows into his knees and covers his face with both of his hands. When they drop down, there's a sad expression on his face.

“I don't understand why everyone is mad at me.” He finishes, a pout now on his face. I shake my head.

“Firstly, you bailed. You left us no instructions, or peace of mind. You could have told the reception desk to let us know you were checking out. But you didn't. You didn't tell us anything. We had to find out for ourselves. Then, you made no attempt to call any of us. I know the reception is bad on the road, but you know damn well Christine has a satellite phone. You could have called. But you didn't. Instead, you left us wondering what happened. If you disappeared, or worse. What if something had happened to you, Frank?” I try explaining. He shakes his head, like he hadn't thought of that.

“Okay, I dropped the ball. But, I mean, is that really a reason for this reaction?” He asks. I shrug again.

“I don't know. Consider how you might have felt in our shoes. How worried you might have been. Or how pissed you would have been having to carry the show, like Jared. Do you have any idea how he felt about being forced on the center of the stage?” I add. His eyes go wide and his hands drop.

“What?” He questions, a crack in his voice. His eyebrows are knitted together, emphasizing his confusion. I close my eyes and look up at the ceiling. The bright lights blind me, but my eyes feel open now.

“What did you think? We were going to cancel the show?” I ask, holding back laughter. I know the answer by the look on his face. That's exactly what he thought we had done.

“Christine would never allow that. Even with the atmosphere. Even with your absence. Canceling the show could have ruined your reputation. As it is, you're on thin ice with this new management company. Especially after this disappearing act.” I correct. He lets out a deep sigh.

“I don't care what they think. Let them drop me. I cant find a new label. I did.” He mutters. I nod, leaning forward.

“What about your fans, Frank? The ones who waited around for three hours before the concert, just to get a glimpse of the star attraction, only to be disappointed because you never even showed up.” I pause, and I can tell he's about to disregard the fans as well. I put my finger in the air to silence him. I don't want to hear it.

“What about us then?” I finish. The reason Jared and I stayed behind at the venue was to try and make it up to the audience. We signed autographs for as many of the fans as we could. We entertained conversation with those who were hanging around. Jared felt bad about the main attraction not showing up. I tried to tell him that the fans seemed happy to have him as a replacement. But there were a few people who were disappointed. Many of the fans who stayed behind just wanted us to tell Frankie to feel better. It was awkward, because we both knew that Frankie was fine. Jared was always awkward with his fans. Shy and uncomfortable. It's what he's known for. Even though he's worked on his interactions, it's hard when the fans weren't even his. They weren't there to see him, but a man who didn't bother showing up. Two of the people who came up to us after the show had actually come out to see Jared. They got more than their monies worth.

“I don't know. I just, don't understand.” He mumbles, covering his face again. I shrug, leaning back against the couch.

“You don't have to understand. But you have to accept that it's going to take more than a 'I lost track of time' excuse to get out of this. For example, a real fucking answer.” I add. The boldness of the statement catches his attention and he looks up at me.

“I just, wasn't thinking.” He repeats, now looking at James. He shrugs, exaggerating his arms.

“I don't know what to say man. It's not my band.” He dismisses.

Frankie nods, then raises his eyebrow.

“Why aren't you angry and avoiding me like everyone else?” He asks, seeming confused. I shrug.

“Well, I guess I believe you have your reasons for your lack of reaction. Plus, I'd like to keep this ship from sinking, if that's possible. And, I guess I have to be there for Jared because you haven't been. Do you have any idea what you did to that poor kid?” I sigh, only considering it now. I haven't thought too much about how Jared was taking Frankie's absence. I couldn't focus on any of the negatives of the situation. All I could think about was how perfect Jared and I were on that stage. How perfect we are together, despite everything that has happened. We actually work, and it only became obvious because of Frankie's disappearing act.

“He goes out on stage every night. Besides, he wants to get back into music. He has to be used to being the center of attention, right? It's good for him.” He dismisses. I shake my head.

“It's not just the performance, Frank.” I argue. He looks confused, so I look over at James, biting the side of my lip.

“There are other reasons Jared might be concerned.” I suggest, trying to hint at my point. I don't know if James is aware that Jared and Frankie are an item. I don't want to be the one to tell him if he isn't. The last thing I need is that drama on top of everything else.

“Fuck.” Frankie mutters, covering his face again.

“So, let's try this again. What happened?” I ask, letting my voice be as soothing as possible. He shakes his head, like he doesn't want to talk about it. When he looks up, he's not looking at me. He's looking at James, like he might have an answer. He shakes his head again.

“I don't know what to say.” He sighs, dropping his hands into his lap. Frankie nods, looking at me. I shake my head, motioning to the door.

“I suggest you figure it out.”

Chapter 30

History

Cincinnati got a shit show, mostly because the fans felt ripped off. The person they paid to see wasn't even there. But at least the performance went well, all things considered. The same couldn't be said for Harrisburg. No one would talk to Frankie or James, even as we headed onto the stage. All of the banter that usually existed on stage was absent. James stood by the side of the stage watching, because he didn't have the chance to learn all of the songs yet. Crystal was still so angry, she insisted on staying on the drum set all night. She didn't want to switch, like she normally would. Jared agreed, but he stayed as far back on stage as possible. He spent the whole show avoiding Frankie. The tension was so thick you could see it a mile away. Frankie lacked energy in his performance. I assume some of that was his adventure with James. But the rest was from the effort spent in dealing with his pissed off band. Me and Charlie had to carry the whole show as the only neutral members. Though we tried our hardest to give the crowd a good show, it was to no avail.

Harrisburg chalked it up to the fact that Frankie had a cold, so his performance was lackluster and the rest of us were tired. But, we all knew better.

None of us felt like greeting the fans after the show. We went straight from the venue to the bus, boarding our sinking ship with no other choice. Crystal and Charlie went straight to her bunk. I followed Jared to his. We didn't say a word to each other. We just crashed.

The next morning, we woke up parked outside of a hotel in Newark. We were late for the check in, but the hotel didn't seem to mind. Then, we headed out for breakfast before starting the day. Crystal picked the diner, a cute place that turned out to be family-owned. The owner was shocked to see us coming in, accompanied by our crew. Frankie apologized for not calling ahead, saying we had just got to town. The owner didn't seem to mind. He recognized Frankie instantly and started running around the restaurant. He closed the place down, to give us privacy. He even rushed out customers that were already in the restaurant. He rearranged his whole world to make us comfortable. This was the kind of treatment Frankie was used to. Once upon a time, Jared was too. But, it was new to the rest of us. After we all sat down, we ordered coffees and food. The manager and owner headed into the kitchen to help the chef, so we wouldn't have to wait too long.

The only conversation in the restaurant is between staff members. A few of the guys in the crew are talking about the show in Harrisburg, how bad it went. Then they start talking about how amazing Cincinnati was. This seems to peak Frankie's interest, but he doesn't ask. Most of the road crew has been avoiding him as well. They are afraid of losing their jobs by expressing an opinion.

Christine was livid when Frankie didn't even have a reason for his absence. She told him it was his first strike and if he continued with “such behavior”, he could do so for a different label. They expect their performers to perform. I feel bad that everyone is treating Frankie so poorly. I feel even worse for James, because he didn't do anything. At the same time, there's not much I can say about the situation. It's been hard for everyone.

After finishing her first coffee, Crystal stands up and heads outside. I dismiss the conversation I was having with one of the waitresses and go after Crystal. She's not standing outside of the building, so I walk around the side. She's in the alley, leaning against the brick wall. She's got a smoke in one of her hands. The other seems to be fidgeting with something. She's staring off into nothing.

“Hey.” I greet, trying to let her know I'm here. She looks over, exhaling with force. She nods, before resuming to her previous view of nothing. I walk over, slowly.

“What's going on with you?” I ask softly, trying to convey the concern. She shakes her head, like she doesn't want to talk about it. She's taking deep inhales from her cigarette and her hand is slightly shaking. I realize I've never seen her smoke a cigarette. She only smokes when she is stressed.

“It's just, the book. I mean, the manuscript is coming along, but, I don't need added stress, right?” She shrugs, letting her shoulders slump as she adjusts against the wall. I nod.

“But it's more than that.” I observe. She finishes her cigarette, tossing the butt across the street. She nods, excessively, lighting another cigarette. She looks over at me.

“Yeah. You're right. It's more than that. It's a fuck load more than that.” She barks, raising her voice. I take a step back from her, afraid she might lunge at me. I don't know what she's capable of.

“I'm not trying to be pushy, I just want to help.” I remind her, trying to approach the subject. She nods, looking over again.

“Yeah. I know. I'm not upset with you.” She hints. I nod.

“The general consensus seems to be that Frankie is an asshole. But, how long are you going to give him the cold shoulder?” I ask, trying to encourage thought. She shakes her head, smiling crooked.

“I'm not trying to give him the cold shoulder. I just, expected more from him.” She mumbles. I nod, stepping closer to her. I watch her smoking feverishly. I imagine how black her lungs must be right now. But, she doesn't seem to care. Maybe she is hoping the more smoke she sucks in, the less oxygen she'll have in her system. She can't feel if she can't breathe, after all. I laugh, which causes her to look over at me. I just shake my head, looking down at the ground. She finishes her second smoke, pulling out her pack for a third. She holds it in my direction this time. I hesitate, but take one anyway. I don't smoke unless I'm drunk, then I'm a chimney. If I'm sober, I can't stand the smell of cigarette smoke. It hurt my lungs. But the rules don't apply when I've been drinking. I can turn off my vices, unlike most people. I don't have an addictive personality. So I can do something in excess, then walk away. Or I can do everything in moderation. I have no roots when it comes to vices. I have no roots when it comes to life either. Everything is disposable to me. She lights the smoke for me and drops her arm.

“So, you're disappointed that he's a fuck up. He's only human. He's bound to make mistakes.” I remind her, leaning against the wall. The brick has sharp edges, now digging into my skin . I chose to wear a t-shirt, because the weather was nice. Right now, I wish I had worn something with sleeves to create a barrier.

“Yeah, I guess.” She agrees, letting out a deep breath. I watch her for a minute, through the smoke cloud she's created around herself. I can see there's a glaze over her eyes. It makes sense that her rage was covering up her sadness. She wanted to believe he was more, but, he turned out to be another disappointment. Another man filled with promises he never intended to keep. Another man who bailed because it was too inconvenient for him to stick around. I can tell the look.

“Look, we've got the practice space rented for tomorrow. James will learn his parts, then you're off the hook. You can leave the tour if you want, Charlie can too. We'll just hire touring members to finish off the tour. There aren't many shows left anyway. But for tonight, let's try to put on a decent show. For the fans.” I encourage, but she just laughs. She looks over at me and I can't figure out what she's thinking.

“Why are you making excuses for him?” She asks. I raise my eyebrow, lifting off the wall.

“What do you mean? I just want to finish this tour.” I argue. She nods, motioning broadly around us.

“It's not our tour. Not our obligation. We can all leave. So why are you so determined to see this through?” She counters. I bite the side of my lip, fumbling as I try to bring the cigarette to my mouth. I didn't know I needed to make excuses. I thought I was explaining the situation. She finishes her third cigarette, dropping it on the ground in front of her. She stomps on it to put it out, making a clear point to everything around her that she is done.

“Do you know why Jared is so upset?” She asks, turning to face me. She's got her arms crossed over her chest and the smoke cloud has finally dissipated. I shrug, shaking my head.

“I haven't asked. I've been trying to give him space. Not that I think he'd tell me anyway.” I note, letting my voice sound as bitter as I feel. Ever since Frankie got back on that bus, Jared has been withdrawn. He's been distant, like he's in his own world. We've hardly said anything to each other. I want to be there for him, but I don't want to pressure him right now. The last thing I need is Hunter coming back. Crystal laughs, shaking her head. She lightly tugs her hair.

“Of course he didn't tell you. Why would he? That's actually sweet because he doesn't want you to worry, so he's keeping it bottled up.” She rambles. I look down at the ground, mostly to avoid seeing her this way. She's completely unhinged and I don't know how to feel.

“Tell me what?” I ask under my breath. She pauses, looking over.

“Frankie didn't tell you about him and James?” She asks, trying to clarify. I raise my eyebrow, looking up at her. She sighs, shaking her head. She's quiet for a minute, breathing out deeply.

“James is Frankie's ex-boyfriend. He's not a friend. They were dating the entire time they were in that band together. But, they didn't end when the band did. They kept seeing each other, on and off. But, it was behind Jared's back.” She explains, shaking her head again. I don't move. I can't.

“His ex-boyfriend.” I repeat. Crystal nods.

“The worst part is, Jared didn't know that. Not until Frankie said he was going to see James. Then, Jared realized they had never lost touch, which means it had never stopped.” Crystal finishes, her voice laced with sympathy. That certainly explains why Jared has shut down. That would be a bitter pill to swallow, especially considering the sudden disappearance and time Frankie can't account for.

But, is it that he can't account for his time, or that he doesn't want to admit to what he's done?

Chapter 31

Questions

Crystal headed back to the restaurant after our conversation. But, I couldn't bring myself to join the group. Even if my dampened mood would have fit right in with theirs. Instead, I decided to get a little bit of alone time. Time to think about what Crystal told me. Time to wonder what actually happened with Frankie and James. I never thought I'd have to worry about Frankie's loyalties. He's always shown his devotion to me, even when I wasn't giving him the time of day. He persisted until I caved and gave him everything he wanted. I never thought in a million years he would do something that could compromise this. I never thought he would do this to me or to Jared.

Even if he had been faithful while he was off with James, he should have told me about that history. I had no idea they had a past. Frankie knew that. There was no way I could have known about their history, unless he had told me. Which, he didn't. And he didn't consider Jared's feelings, obviously. Jared knew a bit about their history, but, he thought it was just that: History. He had no idea it could still be going on. If nothing else, it was insensitive for Frankie to bring James onto this tour. He shouldn't have brought his ex-boyfriend on tour with his fiancee and his boyfriend, without letting them know the details. I just can't face him right now.

I started walking when I left the restaurant. I didn't care where I was going, I just needed to get away from what I left behind. I ended up at the shoreline, looking over at New York City. The shoreline in Newark isn't the best place to sit. The water is murky and the ground is littered. Still, it's a breath of fresh air when I feel like my lungs are struggling to work. It's less constrictive than the tour bus, as well. I could just go back to the hotel. We're there until Tuesday morning, when we leave for Boston. That's two nights in a hotel, which is something the road crew is grateful for. But, I don't want to risk running into any of them there. I wouldn't know what to say to any of them. Especially Jared.

Now that I know about Frankie's history, I can see why Jared was so upset. Maybe that was the real reason he didn't want to leave the hotel room. He didn't want to face the reality of his problems. His solution was to lock himself in, pretend to be ignorant of what was going on. It makes me wonder how many times he might have done that without me. Or, because of me. Maybe some of those nights he took off and didn't come home were innocent after all. Maybe he just needed a break from his own thoughts. I wonder why he chose to tell Crystal all of this. I thought him and I were at a point where we could talk to each other about this kind of thing. I would have been happy to listen to his concerns. Crystal said it was sweet that he didn't tell me, that he didn't want me to worry. I appreciate that, but I thought we had worked on our communication. Maybe it wasn't sweet at all. Maybe Jared is worried that I'm too close to the situation.

I can also see why Crystal had such an aggressive reaction towards Frankie. I thought it was strange that she was so upset. It's not a big deal to lose a day. She's lost entire weeks in her past. I would have believed she was just tired, stressed out about the book. I would have believed she was pissed about being left to worry for nothing. I would have believed she was sympathizing because she knew I wanted to get off stage. I would have believed any alternative version of the truth to avoid seeing what was right in front of my eyes. I guess, I am too close to the situation. Crystal said I was defending Frankie. Maybe Jared felt the same. I recall telling him that we had to show support because it's Frankie's band. I told him we had to trust him. He could have told me. But he didn't. He just agreed.

Why didn't he just tell me?

The question swirls in my head as I walk along the littered ground. My eyes find New York, longing for the life I had there once upon a time. I think about leaving this all behind and heading home. Although it long stopped feeling like home. I've never found somewhere that feels like home. I've never really wanted a home. I had this ideal about me and Frankie. Living on the road, making a home out of each other. But, I'm starting to see those ideals are unrealistic. I'm starting to want something a little more concrete. A little more reliable.

I think of our hotel morning in Detroit, how Jared said everything comes to an end. Now that I know about Frankie and James, there is more of a connotation to that statement. I thought we were agreeing that the band was temporary, or that we were temporary. But, he was being more general than that. He was talking about things I didn't even know. I know everything ends. Of course everything ends. But, that doesn't make it any easier to face. I can't let myself think that way. I have to believe that it's going to work out. I don't even mean the band. I've long given up hope the band was a good idea. Luke was right. It put too much strain on our little family. Tired us out, made us sick of each other. We need a break, more than anything. But there's a week and a half left of the tour and we're obligated to push through. I'm just disappointed at what I stand to lose when the tour ends.

I continue walking the shore line, noticing a familiar figure in the distance. I'm not entirely surprised he would find himself by the water. His best thoughts have always come from memories of the shore. He finds such comfort in the waves. Tranquility, he would say. Anything from a wide open ocean to a small balcony overlooking the pier. I'm shocked he's not a water sign. He looks over at me as I approach, kicking a rock across the gravel in front of him. Just as quickly, his eyes find their way back to the water. I sit down on the bench beside him, but I don't bother saying anything. I don't know what I could say. This whole thing is a mess and I just want it to go back to the way it was. I know that's not possible. I know I shouldn't bottle the feelings up, either. Bottled feelings are like an animal in a cage. The longer they are left there, the harder they try to break out. When they finally succeed, it's violent and aggressive and dangerous. I don't need that, but I don't know how to deal, either.

“I'm guessing Crystal told you.” He starts, only briefly looking over. I nod when he does, then his eyes go back to the water. I look down at my feet, suddenly feeling the weight of the situation.

“I just,” He stops, taking a deep breath.

“I knew what you'd say about it. That we need to be supportive. We need to trust him. It's not even that I don't, I just,” He stops again, like he's struggling with the words. I don't say anything. I know when he wants to open up, he just wants someone to listen. He nods again, though it seems like he's encouraging himself to continue.

“It's hard to be around them, when I know their history. I have to look at James and know he's shared intimate moments with Frankie. That just kills me. It's worse, because I'm left wondering if it even is history, or something that's continued. Especially when,” He stops, shaking his head. I put my hand on his leg. He looks over and I can see the look of contemplation in his eyes. I nod, encouraging him.

“I thought he left me for James, you know.” He adds. I look over.

“When he got back from the tour with Luke’s band, so many things ran through my head. I thought maybe it was Luke, because they had spent so much time together over that tour. Then I thought maybe he was still talking to James, which, apparently he was. Then I realized it was you,” He pauses, looking over at me. I look down, suddenly feeling guilty. It'll always hurt to know I did that to him. Even if he had done awful things, it was never that bad.

“I mean, I should have seen that coming. Who wouldn't fall for you? But, that didn't make it hurt any less. In fact, I think it only hurt more.” He jokes, faking a smile. I try to return one, but I fail.

“I'm sorry.” I offer, shaking my head. He shrugs.

“I wasn't very good to you. I know that. I mean, I had been cheating on you for years, after all.” He adds, looking over. I nod, and it helps to ease some of the guilt. He just shakes his head.

“When did you find out?” I ask, looking over at him. He shrugs, leaning back against the bench.

“I think part of me knew right away. But, I couldn't bring myself to face the facts. Then, you gave me that ticket and, I knew I couldn't deny it anymore.” He answers. I nod, looking back to the ground.

“I was going to tell you, if that makes you feel any better. I just, I knew how hurt you were about Frankie, so, I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to salt the wound.” I mumble. He puts his hand on mine and moves in into his lap. His other arm wraps around my shoulder, pulling me towards him. I slide the rest of the way over.

“It wasn't Frankie that hurt.” He corrects, looking down at me. I sigh.

“You know, that information might have changed the course of this relationship.” I attempt to joke. He shakes his head.

“I don't think so. I was too self-involved to be what you needed at the time. Well, ever, I think. I mean, relationships either evolve into something better or they die off. I like to think we've evolved. It took time, but, I think,” He pauses, letting out a deep breath. I laugh, nuzzling into his neck.

“I'd like to think we evolved, too. But, then, here you are talking to Crystal instead of me about something I feel like I should have known.” I joke, attempting to test the waters. When he's in a good mood, I can joke about anything. When he isn't, he doesn't know how to take a joke. But I can't handle serious conversations. I awkwardly make jokes that no one gets or no one finds funny, just to break the ice. Only sometimes, I wish I just put myself under the ice instead of trying to break it at all. I don't know how to interact with people. That's why I chose to be a writer, after all. He laughs, nodding.

“I know. I won't make a habit out of it, I promise.” He assures, gently squeezing my shoulder. I nod.

“I know you won't.” I agree, and we both stare across the water at New York.

Chapter 32

Practicing Space

We got to the practice space bright and early in the morning. None of us were particularly excited about the early rise, but everyone made their best effort. After I brought back coffees, everyone seemed to perk up. Crystal was in a pleasant mood, all things considered. She was smiling and laughing with James all day. She even addressed Frankie in casual conversation. He seemed pleased that she was acknowledging him again. I assume it helped her to get everything off her chest. To know that I knew. It seemed to be a burden for her, to carry that secret around. Now, everyone is aware that Frankie and James have a past together. They don't know we know. But, it seems to have given us all a sense of unity. I think that's what Crystal and Jared both needed. Although, Jared spent the whole day quiet and contemplative. He didn't acknowledge Frankie even once, but Frankie didn't acknowledge him either. Jared being quiet isn't new. No one would think anything of it. Jared is usually on autopilot for rehearsals. He's in deep thought when he's writing. So, he's usually quiet. Given the circumstances, I'd be worried. But, he kept shooting me these little smiles from across the room. It was his own way of reassuring me and it worked. By the time we were leaving, it was already dark outside. We spent all day teaching James the songs. Even Frankie picked up a guitar to create a better flow. By the end of the day, I felt confident that James would be able to play with us in Boston.

We could have taught James the songs anywhere. Backstage, even on the tour bus. But Frankie wanted to find somewhere that had a good flow, that would provide a creative and relaxing environment. The practice space was perfect, even offering a change in the atmosphere.

The practice space was gorgeous, especially for a place we found in downtown Newark. It was a wide room with a red oriental theme. The walls were painted a dark red, with golden accents. There was a dark burgundy couch just off to the side, covered in throw pillows. Most of the pillows had tassels that dangled from the four corners. The print was something that looked hand-made. There were dragons on some of them, and square patterns on others. In the corners of the rooms were bamboo stocks. Across the floor was a large square rug that had the same patterns as the pillows. The coffee table in front of the couch was a sheet of glass perched across a metal dragon. The whole thing came together so beautifully. I noticed while they were rehearsing, Jared kept writing things down in his journal. I imagine the space was inspirational. I made a note to myself to come back some time.

I spent most of the day sitting on the couch, watching the magic. I wasn't needed at the practice at all. Since Frankie was playing too, I had no reason to participate. I was going to leave, but, I thought maybe Jared needed me. So I stuck around, only leaving for the occasional coffee run. Christine spent her day at the hotel, on the phone with Frankie's label.

We get back to the hotel and join the crew in the restaurant. Crystal and Charlie eat quickly, before heading back to their room. Crystal stops on her way out, making a point to say goodnight to Frankie. He doesn't stick around much longer, either. He eats and heads back to his room. Slowly, each of the crew members leave, until it's only James, Jared and myself in the restaurant. I try to be polite, making conversation with James. I ask about how he met Frankie and he tells me about the tour they went on. He doesn't make any reference to a relationship or even a romantic interest. But, Jared tenses up as he talks. James picks up on it easily enough, suggesting he head to his room and crash.

“I'm sorry.” I apologize once James is gone. Jared shakes his head.

“I've got to face the music, right?” He offers, pushing the potatoes around his plate. He's hardly touched his dinner. He didn't eat anything all day. He's trying to hold himself together, but he's doing a bad job. He might fool everyone else, but he's not fooling me.

“I think, before we leave,” I pause, looking absently at the door. He waits for me to continue, leaning forward.

“What?” He asks. I bite my lip, looking back to him.

“I'm going to talk to Frankie.” I finish. He raises his eyebrow.

“What do you mean?” He questions, leaning back again. He's crossing his arms over his chest.

“You know what I mean. I'm going to ask about James.” I insist. He looks down at the table, shaking his head.

“We've only got 5 shows left. Let's deal with it after.” He suggests.

“Jared, he has to face the music. Deal with the consequences of his actions. And, I can't sit around pretending not to know. We can't keep practicing space. We need to practice confrontation. Or, I need to. Because I'll go insane.” I argue. Jared lets out a deep sigh.

“I guess you're right. Ignorance isn't the answer.” He agrees. I nod.

“I'm going to head to bed.” I announce, standing up. He nods.

“Goodnight.” He offers. I put my hand on his shoulder as I stand up.

“Since you're not eating anyway, you might as well come too.” I offer. He looks up at me, confused. But I just smile and he follows me back to my room.

Chapter 33

Talk

I lean against the wall of the tour bus, staring forward at Frankie. He's looking through the book sitting on the lounge table. I asked everyone else to hang back for a little bit. We haven't been alone since James joined us on the tour. But, this needs to be done.

“So, when were you going to tell me?” I ask, startling him. He stands up abruptly, turning to face me.

“Tell you what?” He asks, confused. I laugh, shaking my head.

“About James. You. The relationship.” I shorten. There's a look of shock. Genuine shock, like he wasn't expecting me to find out at all. My laughter fades and I sigh.

“Never.” I answer for him. He shakes his head in a silent argument. I walk further into the bus, looking around.

“It's not that I wasn't going to tell you.” He argues. I nod, sitting down on the couch opposite of the one he had been on. He sits back down, dropping his back against the couch. He moves both of his hands to cover his face and I can tell he's struggling with what to say. I nod to myself.

“Oh, please correct my misinformation. I am dying to hear what you have to say.” I let the statement drip sarcasm. I want to be supportive and understanding, but my patience is wearing thin. My tone conveys all the emotions I've been holding back. The anger, the disappointment, the pain. I don't want to be so cruel, but Crystal was right. I can't keep defending him.

“I didn't know how to tell you. I was,” He pauses.

“I was trying to find the words.” He mumbles, letting his hands drop down. He looks defeated. Good. He should be.

“Don't lie to me, Frankie. I spent too many years doing this with Hunter. I won't go through it again.” I assert. We're both quiet. I can see something flicker in his eyes as he looks towards the door. I don't know if he's planning to run for it, or hoping someone will come and save him from this conversation. But, neither one of those are happening and he's realizing it. He looks back at me.

“Fine. You're right. I wasn't going to tell you.” He admits, looking down at the ground. I nod, more to myself.

“So, you were just going to let me think the two of you were friends? Let me be completely ignorant to your past? Flaunt him around, as what, a trophy? Knowing you could get away with it because I knew nothing. I wouldn't question it, wouldn't get suspicious.” I ask, trying to comprehend it for myself. He shakes his head.

“It's not like that.” He argues. I nod slowly.

“What is it then?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. He sighs.

“No one needs to know. It was a thing of the past. It's been over for a long time.” He defends. I lightly laugh.

“What about Jared?” I ask. He doesn't say anything at first.

“Did he say something to you?” He asks, suddenly sounding angry. Like he has any right to feel offended. I shake my head.

“It's not over for him, Frankie. It's a constant reminder to him. Of the past, of the betrayal. He never got over what happened, yet, you're shoving James right in his face. Like his feelings don't matter to you at all.” I explain. Frankie jumps up, violently shaking his head.

“He never cared about my fucking feelings. All I wanted was his fucking time, but it was never his to give. He dismissed me at every chance he got. Afraid of his own feelings. But, I was supposed to be okay with that? That's why I fucking left him. I guess, I should have reminded myself of that, before any of this.” He rambles. I raise my eyebrow, watching him pacing back and fourth.

“I should have known he'd never change. He can't. He couldn't express his feelings then, and he can't express them now.” He shakes his head, dropping back down on the couch. I shrug.

“Funny how it only seems to be a problem with you. He told us.” I remind him. He raises his eyebrow and I see the moment it registers in his head. He laughs, almost maniacally.

“So everyone knows?” He asks, looking over at me. I nod.

“We know what Jared knows. His side of the story. We'd all love to hear yours.” I offer. He shakes his head, pointing his finger rapidly around the room.

“No. No one has the right to know about our history. It's just that. History. Mine and his.” He insists. I nod.

“You're being awfully defensive about something that happened years ago.” I observe. He looks over at me and the picture becomes clear. Painfully clear.

“Oh my God.” I mumble, looking away. I put my hand over my mouth, feeling like I'm going to be sick. I looked for the signs, but I must have missed something. Again. Crystal was right. I have a weak spot. Here I was thinking it would be Jared, but I expect him to let me down. I expected more from Frankie, who spent so long trying for this. I gave him a false trust that apparently, he didn't deserve. I look back in my mind to that hotel room. His game system, with two controllers. The smell of his hotel room, of sweat and bodily fluids. The second toothbrush in his bathroom. I overlooked it all.

I shake my head. I feel trapped. I feel stuck. I want off this bus. I want out of this city. I want out of this life. For a minute, I want to entertain leaving the tour and going home. Reggie has my job on hold in Illinois. He said I was the best worker he ever had, that it'd be a shame to lose me. He even offered to hire security so no one would bother me during my shifts. It was a nice sentiment and I told him I'd think about it. Then, I remember that Frankie owns that house in Illinois. He could kick us all out, if he wanted to be an asshole. I would say he'd never do that to us. But now, I don't know what he'd do. It turns out I don't know him at all.

“Listen, I can explain.” He starts, seeming saddened.

“No. I don't think you can. You're not that great with explanations.” I answer, standing up. I head towards the door, him following close.

“I'm sorry.” He whines, reaching for my hand. I look over at him, seeing the glossiness in his eyes.

“You're sorry?” I ask, stepping forward. He nods, looking at the floor.

“Yeah. That's convenient. If you were sorry, you wouldn't have fucked someone else behind my back.” I argue, my voice raising slightly. He laughs, looking up.

“Like you weren't sleeping with Hunter.” He counters. I shake my head, pushing him backwards. I head to the front of the bus, opening the door. He sighs, following me off the bus.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.” He apologizes. I shake my head.

“Fuck you. I didn't touch him. I don't even care what you think. I wanted to, and I told you that. That is as far as anything ever went. But now, now I wish I had.” I argue, storming in front of the bus. He chases after me, grabbing my hand. He pulls me behind the bus.

“Let's talk about this.” He insists. I pull away, shaking my head.

“No. I'm done talking to you. I'm going to talk to the crew. You'll be switching places with Christine for the rest of the tour.” I announce. He looks like he's going to argue, but instead looks at the ground.

“What about us?” He asks. I laugh, opening my arms to the world.

“There is no us, Frankie. When this tour is over, we're done. I never want to see you again.”

Chapter 34

New Captain

The show in Concord was amazing. The crowd was passionate and enthusiastic. Everyone seemed to enjoy having James on stage, including the band. His performance was flawless. There was only one time he messed up, but I had my suspicion it was intentionally. He decided to change some parts to suit his own musical taste. It worked well. Even the band seemed receptive of his changes. Charlie rocked out alongside Jared and Crystal danced around with her guitar. Frankie sang his heart out. Everything went smoothly, on stage. Everyone held themselves together, as long as they were in sight of the audience. Off stage, Concord was awkward and uncomfortable.

At least, for me. Everyone else was milling about and offering “good show” encouragements. The crew opened a case of beer and everyone sat around talking about the rest of the tour. Jared has been avoiding Frankie, who seems worried every time he looks at Jared. His guilty conscious has finally kicked in, but it's too late to change the outcome. Jared just ignores Frankie whenever he's addressed. He has been unusually friendly towards James, though. I pulled him aside before the show, asking what was up. He told me he has nothing against James. He doesn't know James well enough to cast judgments about his personality. But, he seems like a decent guy. The kind of guy who wouldn't knowingly be a home wrecker. He told me he's pretty sure James is unaware of his relationship with Frankie, both present and past. So James doesn't even know how uncomfortable this situation is for him. He told me he can't blame James. It isn't his fault, it's Frankie's. He has no idea how right he is.

I didn't have the heart to tell him about New York.

I feel bad, keeping it from him. But, I don't think he needs another blow right now. He's withdrawn himself, though I can see he's trying not to shut me out. But, he's been on autopilot since James joined us on tour. He's basically nothing more than a shell of himself. I don't know if he's going to recover from this. It's been hard for him. He knew of the their history, and of his own, but the collision of both seemed to be too much. I would be taking it harsh, if I wasn't also relieved. I was going to marry Frankie. Obviously, that would have been a mistake and I was saved from making it. I don't know if Jared and I will recover, as a couple. But if we do, I'll have that to be grateful for as well. If I had to choose between the two of them, well, I'd pick Jared. I'll pick Jared over anyone.

At some point, Frankie pulled me aside as asked if I was going to tell everyone else, specifically Jared. I said it was his job and I was keeping my mouth shut. He tried to further the conversation, but I walked away. I won't make it a habit to talk to him, unless we're around everyone else. It's funny, since James got on the tour, Frankie and I hadn't been alone. Now that I know, it seems Frankie wants as much alone time as possible. I'm not entertaining his attempts. I said all I needed to say and I've run out of words. I can barely stand to look at him. Every time I hear his voice, I cringe. I can't believe he cheated on me, after all the years of fighting for the chance. I can't believe he thinks I cheated on him with someone he called to our house. In New York, he said it wasn't a test. But, it's starting to sound like it was. Regardless of what Frankie believes, I passed that test.

Christine announced the new bus arrangements the night before, after the Boston show. Of course there were questions. Everyone wanted to know why we were putting Frankie on the other bus. Christine dismissed most of the questions, saying we need to discuss business. It wasn't exactly a lie. I spoke to her after the show in Boston. I told her about what was going on with Frankie. She was the only person I felt comfortable talking to. She has no personal involvement with Frankie. She doesn't know any of us, either, so she's unbiased. She expressed her sympathy, but, I told her I wanted to talk about the future. The future of the band. She said she'd invite the management to the show in New York. If they liked what they saw, we'd set up a meeting at the office.

So, I've been doing everything I can to keep this show on the road, dismissing my personal feelings about the situation. Crystal would suggest we just leave the tour. She already has, and that was before I knew about New York. I didn't tell her. She has no reason to know. It doesn't affect her or Charlie. Only Jared and myself. But I have to see this through. We have to make it to the end of the tour. Not just to impress Frankie's label, now for ourselves and not for Frankie. But I have my own reasons to want to get to the New York City show.

I'm taking control of this sinking ship. I am the new captain.

Chapter 35

The Cold War

The cold war continues in the dressing room after the Albany show. Crystal has a few friends who came over from New York to see the concert. She's invited them into the dressing room and they are laughing and having a good time. She's introducing Charlie to everyone, beaming in a way that only a proud girlfriend could. There's one or two people in the dressing room who know me, but I have no idea who they are. Friends of friends, but no direct relationship. I stick to the stage, sitting with Jared. Neither of us try speaking, but the silence is comfortable. I watch Crystal, being the natural leader that she is. The conversation is all about her and all eyes are in her direction. She even knows a few of the stage hands from a tour she was on years ago. I'm not surprised they would remember her. She stands out. I'm just glad she's back to her usual happy self. I look back over at Jared. I wonder if he just needs to break down, the same way Crystal did. If he just needs to let out those emotions he's trying to keep inside. I know his break down won't be anger, like hers. He might become a basket case, worse than he already is. He might not be able to pick up the pieces and move on, the way she did. He's not as strong as she is. Well, none of us are. So, I've got to make sure he keeps his head on his shoulders until the tour is over. Then, he can break down all he wants.

Christine motions us over to the dressing room. She's got a clipboard in her hand and our schedule is on it. She doesn't normally hold band meetings, but apparently she has something to say.

“Come on.” She demands, motioning to the couches. She's cleared almost everyone out of the room. I heard Crystal's friends leaving, but they invited her to a party later tonight. I know she'll go, because we're in Albany for the night. Christine points towards the empty couch and I sit down with Jared.

“We have a meet and greet in Toronto. There's a general admission, then a VIP ticket. There are 5 contest winners who are coming before the show. They get to hang out during the set and sit down with you guys after the show.” She announces, looking around the room. Frankie sits up straight.

“I never agreed to that.” He argues. Christine raises her eyebrow and turns the clipboard around. She has the date circled and a list of names. The names circled are of 5 contest winners.

“Irrelevant. It's happening. That's why I called this meeting.” She corrects. I stand up, moving towards her. I hold my hand out and she passes me the clipboard. At the top of the page, the date for the meet and greet is highlighted. A local radio station held a contest for 5 golden tickets. I'm not crazy about the Willy Wonka reference, especially since we're hardly exciting. But, there are five people who are going to be backstage before the show in Toronto. Then, there is another 25 that paid for access to the area after the show. I hand the board back to Christine, biting my lip.

“There's going to be 30 people after the show.” I announce, looking around the room. Crystal seems excited, clapping her hands. She would be, because she loves meeting new people. But, everyone else seems uncomfortable. Even James seems bothered by the idea.

“That's a lot of fans. Fans who want to see interaction. Fans who want to meet you, ask questions, have you sign some stuff. You're going to need to pull your act together, at least for that.” Christine continues dictating. Charlie starts laughing and shakes his head.

“Yeah, perfect. Because what we need is to ruin some poor kids' idea of what this means.” He jokes, rolling his eyes. Frankie shakes his head, standing up. He takes the clipboard to see for himself.

“Fuck.” He mutters. I step backwards, moving away from him.

“I didn't sign off on this. I wouldn't have agreed to this.” He continues arguing. Christine looks over at me and I nod.

“No, you didn't. I'm the one who set it up.” I announce, causing Frankie to look over. I shrug.

“I thought it would be a good way to drum up a buzz. I was trying to be helpful. But, I didn't know any of this would happen.” I defend, motioning around the room. Jared looks back down at the ground. Crystal pretends to know nothing, looking around the room. James raises his eyebrow, looking over at me.

“Am I missing something?” He asks, leaning forward. Christine looks from Frankie to James. She bites the side of her lip.

“You tell me.” She accuses. Frankie shakes his head.

“I'm not doing this.” He argues, storming out of the dressing room. I motion to Crystal. She pushes Charlie's shoulder and motions towards the door. He gets up and heads to the door, leaning against it.

“Now that he's gone.” Christine starts, throwing the clipboard on the table. She turns her back to us and starts walking towards the stage. I motion for Crystal and Jared to follow. They do, leaving Charlie at the door. I drop down on the couch beside James, looking over.

“Hey.” He greets, seeming confused. I nod, looking around at the almost empty room. I let my eyes land on him.

“We know about you and Frankie.” I start. He looks at the ground.

“Before I got here, or after?” He asks, trailing off. I look over to where Jared is standing with Crystal.

“After.” I answer. He nods. A simple action. He doesn't give anything away because there is nothing to give away.

“I thought,” He pauses again, shaking his head.

“I thought you knew. I mean, he didn't tell you?” He asks, seeming upset. I shake my head slowly.

“No. He wasn't going to either. Said it was none of our business. That it was ancient history and didn't concern any of us.” I repeat. James looks up, raising his eyebrow.

“He didn't tell you about New York?” He barks, suddenly angry. I raise my eyebrow, looking over at him.

“New York?” I question, feigning ignorance. I'm good at that, it turns out. He laughs, disbelievingly.

“That fucking asshole.” He mumbles, shaking his head. He stands up and I watch him pace back and fourth. I wait, and he continues.

“I'm sorry. I had a moment of weakness. I knew you two were together, but, I don't know. I'm weak to my emotions, I guess. I mean, I love the guy.” He starts, looking over. I nod.

“So, you two?” I ask, trailing off. He nods.

“It only lasted a week. Then you came to see him and I guess I realized how wrong it was. I mean, you were just a name in my mind. Him and I had a history. Then, I saw you two leaving the office together.” He pauses. I let my eyes drop to the floor. James was meeting him. They were going back to that hotel together. If he hadn't seen us, he might have shown up and I would have known.

“He said he'd tell you. I begged him.” He looks choked up. I want to feel bad, but, if he knew we were together, he knew what he was doing. He doesn't deserve sympathy for something he did to himself. Just like Luke told me about the white lines on the highway. It was my own fault, I needed the punishment.

“Did you know about him and Jared? I mean, their history.” I ask, suddenly realizing. James raises his eyebrow.

“No. What about them?” He asks. I laugh, looking over at Jared.

“Frankie and Jared were together for years. The whole time, Frankie was cheating on him with you. Even now.” I explain. James stops.

“What?” He asks, letting his hands drop from his hair. I nod.

“Well, they were.” I correct, motioning around.

“He's back.” Charlie calls, drawing my attention to the door. I stand up, looking from James to Charlie. I don't know what exactly Frankie is up to, but, I'll be damned if I sit back and watch quietly. I told Jared he needs to face the music. I meant it.

“Let him in.” I insist. Charlie nods, and I follow him towards the stage. James stands up as Frankie comes back into the room. He's got his arms crossed and an uncharacteristically angry look on his face.

“What's going on?” Frankie asks, looking over to where we're standing. I motion to James, now in a fury of emotion.

“I think it's time we heard your side of the story.”

Chapter 36

The Answers

If I thought it was bad before, it got worse.

None of us could have expected the reaction James had. Of course, the confrontation with Frankie was unavoidable. I made sure of that. More than anything, I just wanted to help Jared. I figured, getting everything out in the open was the best way to do that. If we could clear the air, maybe we could patch things up and get the show back on the road. Maybe, we would even be able to work everything out. But, James had a different idea. He was quick to raise his voice, yelling and shouting about what a piece of shit Frankie was. He called Frankie out about his entire past with Jared, about the lying and the betrayal. Then he asked why Frankie would put Jared through this again. Then, he kept going, calling Frankie out about lying to me about New York. So, Jared and Crystal found out about New York. When James was finished, he grabbed his suitcase off the bus and headed to the airport. He told Frankie to drop dead, too. It was a stylish exit.

Meanwhile, the rest of us sat in shock as we watched the destruction take place. Everyone expected James to be more reserved. A quiet conversation or some fumbling for words. But James was a shock to all of us. He knew what he wanted to say and he said all of it. He didn't even leave Frankie room to argue or explain himself. Not that there was a reasonable explanation for anything.

I've come to accept that there isn't always a reason behind an action. Sometimes, we just do things without thinking them through. It seems like thinking too much is overrated, anyway. We just need to let the chips fall where they may. In fact, it's best not to even watch them fall. Don't even look at them when they land. Step over the messy pile and keep your feet moving forward. Always forward, never looking back. Never stopping to consider what could go wrong and just let life happen. Stop trying to be in control. I've come to accept that's a good philosophy on life.

The show in Toronto goes well, considering the fall out of the previous night.

The contest winners get to experience something rare before the show. There's no cold war. There's no tension. It seems James leaving the tour lifted the storm cloud above our heads. I guess I was right about having everything out in the open. Now, we're truly on the same page. There is no doubt about where we are all standing. The crew and the management all know that Frankie and I are no longer together. We denounced our relationship, privately. But, Frankie wants to wait until the tour ends to denounce it publicly. I'd argue, but I don't care enough.

There's only one show left: New York.

The contest winners are all above legal drinking age in Toronto, so management ordered a few cases of a local brew. The atmosphere is relaxed and enjoyable. There are a few reporters milling around with the fans. They are interested in knowing more about the dynamic of the band. Charlie is getting asked about his books, which sold out a long time ago. He's telling everyone where they can buy copies online. Crystal is talking about her book, which will be coming out soon. She managed to finish the manuscript, she just needs it to go through an editor. One reporter asked about the drummer we had during the last show. Christine shrugs it off, saying we were touring with a friend, but he headed home. None of the reporters in Toronto would have seen James sitting at the airport, waiting for the plane to take him home. Cursing out the waste of time his trip turned out to be. He should spend a week in any of our shoes. He was boarding the finished product, we built this now-sinking ship. But, the state of our disaster doesn't damper the mood tonight. Everyone seems to be genuinely enjoying themselves, including Jared. Instead of being nervous or reserved, Jared is actually happy and talkative. He's still avoiding Frankie, but, almost everyone is now.

I leave Jared and Charlie to mingle with the contest winners and the reporters. Crystal and I head into the hallway, to talk about our plans for the end of the tour. She tells me that Charlie might go to Australia for a year, adding that she might go along with him.

“If you want to live alone, I mean.” She adds. I shake my head.

“I don't do well on my own.” I correct her. I won't tell her that I've never lived on my own. I've had my own apartment maybe three times in my life. Every time, it was a disaster.

“We could buy a place together. We can afford it.” She offers. I nod.

“We can.” I agree loosely. She shakes her head.

“Neither of us know much about real estate though.” She adds.

“We can hire someone for that. I mean, that's what real estate agents are for.” I remind her, laughing lightly. She nods.

“We could just rent a place, I guess.” She corrects herself. I nod.

“Are you sold on Illinois?” I ask. She bites the side of her lip.

“I don't know. I only moved there for Charlie, you know. I think Charlie likes it, because it's home to him. He's never lived anywhere else. But, it's not home to me.” She answers, loosely. I nod.

“We could move to New York.” I suggest. Her eyes light up.

“Oh I would love to live there again. I miss it so much.” She purrs, looking starry-eyed. I laugh, nodding.

“I've got a friend who can find us a place there. I just have to give him the word.” I add. She starts jumping up and down.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She yells, throwing her arms around me. I shake my head, returning the hug. Her enthusiasm is refreshing. She steps back.

“Is Jared going to want to move?” She questions. I shake my head.

“I don't think Jared is going to be a part of the equation.” I mumble. She raises her eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I thought you two were doing good. I mean, it seemed like you were, at least.” She continues whining. I shrug.

“We were, yeah. But, I mean, the only reason he came to Illinois was to see Frankie. He wanted that chance, even if it turned out to be a waste of time.” I remind her. She laughs.

“You really think Jared was there for him?” She questions, crossing her arms over her chest. I nod.

“Yeah. That's what he said. So, I'm guessing he's heading back to California after the tour.” I offer. She laughs.

“Nope. Not likely.” She argues, shaking her head. She's spinning around in a circle, like she's dancing with herself. I raise my eyebrow.

“What do you mean not likely? That's his home.” I remind her. She stops spinning and lets her vision focus on me.

“He sold his house. He said he thought he'd be relocating to Illinois.” She informs me. I look down the hall. Jared is coming into the hallway, motioning us towards the stage.

“I think it's show time.” I suggest, motioning to him. Crystal nods.

“Yeah. We'll talk more after, right?” She asks, excitement not fading. I nod, following her towards the stage. Jared joins us and we exchange a brief smile before the show starts.

The show itself is amazing, even if I hate being on stage. Jared is hidden behind the drum set, where he seems to let out some of his aggression towards Frankie. Crystal has taken Jared's guitar and is playing like her life depends on rocking the audience. Charlie walks over to her during the show and the two break into a competitive guitar solo. I laugh from the other side of the stage, watching the musical foreplay. The two of them have developed a stronger bond because of the drama surrounding Frankie. I'm glad. It's nice to know at least one relationship is going to survive this train wreck. My eyes find themselves on Frankie, performing on autopilot. He's not here anymore. He's in a world inside of his own head, like Jared usually is. Maybe he's in a world filled with endless opportunities and no mistakes of the past. We could have lived in a world like that. There was nothing saying we couldn't make it a reality. He always made me feel like the world was filled with those endless possibilities. Being around him made me feel something magical. Whenever I was lost, I found myself with him. Or when I was upset or angry. I even found myself by his side when I was happy, because he made me happier than anyone else. My feet always seemed to walk in his direction, landing me outside his house. In his bed. At his side. Always. It was like my feet knew that's where I wanted to be, even before I was ready to admit it to myself. Now, I can hardly look at him without this sinking feeling in my heart. I realize our love was nothing more than a figment of my imagination. Frankie gave me something to believe in when I didn't have anything else. But, holding on to nothing is better than holding on to something ugly. Regardless of how beautiful I thought it was.

After the show, the rest of the VIP holders are backstage. The venue is packed with kids asking questions. Crystal and I get crowded by the handful of female fans that bought passes. One girl asks about our musical influences, while another asks about our favorite bands. It's not supposed to be an interview, but essentially becomes one. Frankie walks over to us, taking my hand in his. We pose for pictures with a few fans. We smile at each other. It's such an automated action that for a minute, I forget everything is falling apart. Everything feels perfect and just the way it should be. Then my eyes find Jared, signing a t-shirt for a young, teenage boy. Suddenly, I remember nothing is perfect. This isn't my life. I'm dressed up and dancing, like a marionette on strings. I remember doing this too many times with Hunter. The fake smiles, polite introductions. Pretending everything is fine in front of judgmental eyes, but an echoing silence through our shared home. I can't do this anymore. I won't. I make an excuse to leave Frankie and head towards the entrance. I feel this overwhelming need to cry and I can't let anyone see that. I don't remember the last time I cried. It's been so long since I felt like I had to. I get outside, pulling my pack of cigarettes from my pocket.

“What are you doing out here?” Jared calls from the open door behind me. I spin around. He's leaning against the door frame, looking at the ground. I fake a smile.

“I just, wanted some fresh air.” I offer. He laughs, motioning to the now-lit cigarette in my hand.

“I don't think that's going to happen.” He jokes. I nod, inhaling.

“It's more, I just needed space, I guess.” I confess. He nods.

“Frankie?” He asks, stepping forward. The moonlight makes his skin glow, drawing attention to those sparkling eyes. I let myself smile, remembering how it feels to be happy for a minute.

“Yeah.” I agree, looking up at the moon. The smoke I breathe out forms a cloud, floating upwards. I look over at Jared and notice he's watching the smoke clouds too.

“We used to do that.” He observes, still looking at the sky.

“Yeah. Outside of the tour bus.” I agree. He looks over at me, reaching for my hand. I catch something in his eye, a glimmer from the street lights reflecting something I haven't seen in a long time.

“Crystal told me, what you were talking about.” He starts. I nod, looking over at him. He shifts, looking down at the ground. I lace my fingers around his, causing him to look up.

“I'm not walking away. I don't blame you for any of this.” He pauses. There's a small pout in his lips and I can't help myself. I lean forward and press my lips to his. When I step back, he's smiling.

“This doesn't have to change us.” He finishes. I nod.

“Okay.” I agree. He smiles, almost bashfully.

“Okay?” He asks. I lean forward and softly press my lips to his.

“Okay.” I repeat. He smiles, motioning back inside. I follow him back into the crowd. We're approached by the fans, the reporters, but I don't let go of his hand.

Let them ask the questions. I already know the answer.

Chapter 37

New York

Christine insisted on another band meeting before the show in New York. It was our agreed opinion to not tell the band about the label representatives. I didn't want to cause drama with Frankie and Christine thought the added pressure would make it harder. But, she had a few ideas to boost the show. She suggested the duet I normally sang with Frankie should be replaced by a duet with Jared. Jared insisted he was fine with drumming again, but Christine wasn't listening. In private, she told me there was a review about the show in Cincinnati. Everyone praised Jared's performance, but felt the duet really showed a different side of the band. The chemistry was undeniable. Christine wanted to show that chemistry to her bosses in attendance. I agreed. Frankie didn't bother arguing Christine. His auto-pilot performance continued. No one spoke to him during sound check, or before the show. The only interaction with him was on stage. He was upset about the incident in Toronto. He thought it would damage his reputation. But, I stopped trying to help him.

In my opinion, the show was mediocre. Since Crystal was drumming, there was no guitar duel between herself and Charlie. Frankie was terrible, hardly putting any life into his performance. Christine said the only redeeming factor was the duet with Jared. She was proud of herself for suggesting it.

Since it was the final night of the tour, there was a huge party being thrown at some nightclub. Christine felt disappointed in the show and exhausted in the band. She was happy to finally be home. She took the first chance she had to get away from all of us. But, she left me her number. I tossed it on the dresser at the hotel. Frankie's room was still booked, from his stay in New York. He went back to a place that was familiar. He didn't see any point in going to the party. We booked ourselves a week at a different hotel, close to the nightclub. No one questioned the longer stay, figuring we were all just tired. It would be nice to stay in one place for a little while. Most people would want to head home after a tour. But Crystal and I didn't feel like we had a home to go to. There was no reason to rush our stay. After the show, we headed to the bus, removing all our personal belongings. Christopher would be leaving the bus in New York and taking a plane home in the morning. Then, we headed to the hotel to drop our stuff off. Jared and Charlie decided to hang back, too exhausted to party. Crystal and I headed to the party.

We get to the club and there's a welcoming party for the band. Some people are disappointed that we didn't force our men out. By now, everyone has caught wind that Jared and me are an item. There are rumors about what broke Frankie and me up. Some people think that I cheated on Frankie with Jared. Some people say that Frankie was just a cover, to keep my relationship with Jared a secret. There are too many opinions and most of them are wrong. They always seem to paint Frankie in such a positive light. He was helping out a friend who wasn't comfortable with a public relationship. Or, we betrayed him. If the public knew the story, they wouldn't see Frankie as a hero. But who cares what other people think, anyway?

“There's the girl.” A familiar voice yells from the bar. I walk into the crowd more to see Jesse waving at me. He's got a champagne bottle in his hand, and he's waving it around.

“Hey.” I greet, opening my arms for the usual exchange. He hugs me, stepping back. Then he looks over at Crystal and hugs her.

“Any thoughts?” He asks, looking between the two of us. Crystal raises her eyebrow, looking over at me.

“On what?” She asks. Jesse raises his eyebrow, looking over at me.

“Oh, you didn't show them.” He figures. I shake my head.

“Too much drama, Jesse. I was going to approach the subject in the next few days. We're here for a week. Plenty of time to see it in person, I'm sure.” I dismiss. He nods.

“Yeah, you're right. No more business talk. Tonight is a celebration.” He offers, opening his arms wide. Crystal smiles.

“This seems excessive for an end-of-the-tour party.” She observes, looking over at me. I shrug.

“Maybe it's something more. The end of a chapter in our lives. The start of a new page, a new book.” I hint. Crystal looks around at the crowd and smiles to herself. She bites the side of her lip.

“No business tonight though.” She repeats, winking in my direction.

“No business.” I repeat. She nods. Then, she's out of sight. I look over at Jesse, who takes my hand. We head upstairs, to the lounge.

“There's someone who wants to see you.” He announces as we're out of the noise of the bass. I raise my eyebrow, looking over at him. He lets go of my hand and motions forward. I freeze.

“Go.” Jesse demands, lightly pushing me forward. I approach the man at the table. He's got a trimmed beard decorating his face. It's a mix of oranges with a few grays peppered in. He's wearing a dark purple scarf around his neck, but it's clearly for decoration. He's wearing a sweater vest with an argyle print over a black dress shirt. He stands up as I approach the table.

“Long time.” He greets. I nod, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Hello Samuel.” I greet. He motions to the seat in front of him, sitting back down. I cautiously sit down at the table across from him and put both my hands on the table.

“I thought you never wanted to see me again.” I observe. He shrugs.

“I'm sorry I said that to you. Life is too short to stay angry for silly reasons.” He apologizes. I nod, faking a smile.

“I agree. I mean, I was never angry, though.” I joke, trying to ease the tension. He laughs, shaking his head.

“So, Jesse told me all about the new man, the new band. The new life, I guess. It sounds like you're doing well.” He starts. I nod.

“Well, it was short lived. The man cheated, the band fell apart and the life wasn't as shiny as I thought it was at first glance.” I recite. He nods, looking down at the dance floor.

“Is that your drummer?” He asks, motioning towards Crystal. She's got her arms around someone's neck and she's grooving to the music. I wonder who she is dancing with.

“And guitarist. And lyricist. And back-up singer. She's a Jill of all trades, that one. But, she might just be plain ol' Crystal now. We're not sure of our direction anymore.” I explain. He nods.

“Jesse says you're thinking of moving here.” He adds. I nod, looking behind me. Jesse is long gone, probably back at the bar. I briefly consider that he might be the one with Crystal. Or I'm hoping.

“We're not sure if the men are going to enjoy the idea. We were already settled in Illinois.” I dismiss. He raises his eyebrow.

“I thought you said the man had cheated. Oh, don't tell me,” I don't let him finish the sentence.

“No. I didn't stay with him.” I clarify. He nods.

“That's good. It's about time you knew your self worth. You know, that's the only reason I even said something about Hunter. He didn't know what a treasure you were. You're not a trophy that should be placed on a shelf and forgotten. You're so much more than he ever let you be. You know that, right?” He stops rambling and looks across the table at me. I nod, taking a deep breath.

“I know my worth. But Jared,” I pause, looking down at the table.

“Who is Jared?” He asks, leaning forward. I laugh to myself.

“His real name is Jared. That's what he goes by now. Jared.” I repeat. I just like saying his name. Samuel nods.

“So that's the guitarist?” He asks. I nod. We're both quiet.

“I know that Hunter was a waste of space, Sam. I loved him, but that doesn't mean I was blind to his flaws. I was just with him for so long. He was everything I knew. He felt familiar, like home. I mistook that for love, but I see it was only my comfort zone. We fell out of love and I didn't even realize. I thought love was all you need to make a relationship work. I would never give Hunter another chance. He'd only hurt me, and I know that. He was so disillusioned about everything. I mean, he thought I would always be there. I had to show him I wouldn't. You know?” I finally stop rambling. He's looking over towards the dance floor, but he's not looking down. He's looking at nothing. I look down at the table, suddenly feeling out of place. We're both quiet for at least five minutes.

“You know, I read about the Cincinnati show. I know how many people felt the chemistry. I saw the same chemistry between the two of you tonight.” He starts. I look up, raising my eyebrow.

“I know I never gave him a chance. Hell, I never even met the guy. I just saw such potential in you and I saw you wasting it with someone who couldn't appreciate you.” He pauses, again. I nod.

“I know. And, I appreciate that you were looking out for me.” I agree. He leans back against the booth. Then he nods, more to himself.

“I always tried to look out for you. I guess, in my mind, I still see that confused little girl I met. But, I can see now, you're not that girl anymore. I don't have to look out for you. You're doing just fine for yourself. Maybe, we'd still be friends if I let you make your own decisions. If I was less protective.” He finishes, finally making eye contact. I smile, reaching for his hand.

“We'll always be friends, Sam.” I assure. He nods, holding my hand.

“I'm in town for a bit. We should get coffee.” He suggests. I nod.

“Catch up a bit, as friends?” I ask, smiling. He shakes his head.

“Not us.” He corrects. I raise my eyebrow. He shrugs.

“Maybe it's also time I give him a fair chance.”