FOUR
Friday. 8:17pm. Opening act currently onstage
"Convenience."
That had been her answer when I'd asked her what determined how many shows she was going to.
"Convenience."
I've been mulling over that word since she said it on the walk earlier today. "Well what's your determining factor?" "Convenience." What did that mean? Was she trying to say something? Was there something there I was supposed to pick up on? Convenient for who? Me or her? What would make it convenient for her to see multiple shows? I don't understand what she meant by it and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to or not.
I find myself listlessly going through my social media routine, only half expecting to find that she'd posted. She hasn't. I figured so
much. She's had plenty to keep her occupied today.
I glance around the room and my eyes land on my camera, which is hanging by the strap from the back of a chair, and I suddenly get an idea. I snatch up the camera and head for the stage, making an effort to stay as hidden as possible behind the curtain and still be able to see. I snap a couple of photos of the crowd and look at them. Unsatisfied, I zoom in as close as I can go and pan the crowd slowly. Sadly, she's nowhere to be found.
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Friday. 9:50pm. Showtime.
We're late going onstage. Later than we should have been. Ike and Zac don't seem to be too anxious about it but I've been completely restless. I have to see. I have to know. I have to find out where she is.
We enter from stage left to uproarious screams. They're the same every night. Nothing is different. As I smile and wave and make my way to the keys, I try to inconspicuously scan the crowd. I don't see her. My heart skips a beat for a moment when I see one of her friends but I don't see HER around.
We start the first song. The first song doesn't require keys and the fact that I begin to play them anyway tells me everything I need to know about my own mind at the moment and how much of a disaster this show has the potential to be. I take the mic off the stand and begin to sing, desperate to turn all my focus on the performance. I need to nail this. I owe it to Ike and Zac, and even Andrew and Demetrius, to nail this.
I perform the first couple of lines. I'm easing into it. The crowd is great tonight and it's easy to feed off of them. I find my comfort zone and migrate to Ike's side of the stage to create an evenly-distributed performance. Suddenly my eyes land on HER. Directly in front of Ike. Second row.
My heart begins to pound and as soon as she smiles at me I immediately feel the need to turn away and return to my designated spot onstage. I need to stay here for awhile while I think. While my mind goes back to mush. While I not only wonder how in the hell I'd missed her standing there, but why in the hell is she on IKE'S side of the stage??
My mind retraces recent events. He responded to her tweet. He got along with her on the walk today. Now she's chosen to stand on HIS side of the stage. Had I read this all wrong? Had I read HER all wrong? Did she prefer Ike over me? Does she even like me at all? Am I so crazy that I created this entire scenario where I thought maybe she was secretly communicating with me online?
As I let that last question run through my mind, I realize how insane it sounds. Tonight, in my bunk, instead of surfing social media, I'm going to be looking up personality disorders and what the psych ward can do for me. Because I know now that I must be sincerely, undeniably loony tunes.
By the start of the second song I still can't keep my eyes off of her. I hate how my keyboard is positioned sometimes. She sings along, she laughs with her friends, she dances--Jesus, she dances. I hope she doesn't notice that I keep watching her hips every chance I get to see her entire body--which, unfortunately, isn't often enough.
As I get into the second verse I catch her eyes with mine. She smirks at me. I can feel the blood rise in my face and I know. In that moment, I know. She is here for me. And she's on Ike's side on purpose.
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Friday. 10:33pm. Acoustic set.
The acoustic set is a welcome break for us. It also gives us an opportunity to connect with our fans on a more personal level. I can't help but glance over at Ike in jealousy over the fact that he gets to sit right in front of HER, up close and personal. From where I'm sitting I can't see her. It annoys me how she's so short.
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Friday. 10:50pm. Ike's solo.
I can't stop the jealousy. I don't understand why. I know she's here for me. I know she is. But now she's out there, probably swooning over Ike and I can't help but wonder--what if after this performance, she doesn't like me anymore? What if she decides she likes Ike now? What if...?
You know what, what if I were sane? What if THAT? Because these thoughts I'm having are not normal. They're just not. Not at
all.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, I decide to check the app wall. It's silly, I know, but I do it anyway, compelled by some imaginary
super power I've just made up in my head a second ago.
I pull up the app wall and then I freeze. Is this real? Is she testing me?
It's HER. She posted literally a minute ago, during Ike's solo. She called me out directly. She posted, "Dear Taylor: I'm at the show! And if you're lurking backstage right now, will you please play Take My Time for your solo? Pretty please!!"
I feel my eyes widening and, for some reason, I feel the need to look around to make sure I'm alone. I'm almost convinced that if Zac or Andrew or Demetrius are around while I'm reading it, they'll be able to hear me thinking about it. I feel so exposed right now.
It's that song. That song...this isn't the first time she's said anything about this song. It's eerie, in a way, that this is the song she tends to gravitate to. I hadn't intended to play that song. Not even in the least. My solo is supposed to be Crazy Beautiful. It's printed on the set list. But something's telling me to change it. I shouldn't change it. If I do this, the fans will know I singled her
out. They'll just know it. If they're paying attention to the app, that is. And if they're not paying attention to it now, they will be
later.
Besides, it's only me and the keyboard right? I mean, once I get out there and start playing I can't turn back. It's not like Zac or Ike can pop out of the back and be like, "Haha, just kidding! Now start over!"
I could do it. I could play the song.
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Friday. 10:55pm. My solo.
As the fans cheer for Ike, it's time for me to take the stage. As he walks past me backstage and pats my back, I still haven't made a song decision yet. I'm not sure I've ever gone onstage without a plan in my life...
I have to walk past her to get to my keyboard. I can't help but glance at her and I see her smile and raise her eyebrows at me. In that moment, I've made my decision.
I'm glad my keys are facing away from her. I've never been more glad for anything in my life. I know I can't face her right now. I could never do it. The other faces that I CAN see are more than a welcome sight.
The screams escalate to uncanny levels as I play the first few notes. I wonder what she's doing behind my back. Is she screaming with the rest of them? Is she silent, taking it all in? I don't know. The not knowing is bringing back the adrenaline--the thrill. I'm loving every second of it.
"I've never had a true obsession, but that's what you turned out to be." This line resonates with me as I struggle to sing the next ones. Obsession. I thought I had an uncanny secret addiction to social media. But now, as I keep singing this song, I'm beginning to think a little more. Not about social media, though. About HER. Obsession. I make a mental note to look up the formal definition of
the word and I finish the song.
As the fans scream and cheer, I make my way back across to exit stage left. I find my eyes immediately and uncontrollably locking with hers and she smiles and mouths a "Thank you" amidst all the craziness around her. I feel my eye twitch and instantly I realize that I've winked at her.
As I hit the cooler air backstage I discover that I've broken into a cold sweat and I start to feel a little dizzy. The reality is starting to set in and I don't know how I feel about it. She wasn't supposed to know. She wasn't supposed to know that I watched. She wasn't supposed to know that I waited. She wasn't supposed to know that I depended on her.
And now it feels like the tables have turned. I know now that she watches. I know now that she waits. I know now that she depends on me. And I have caved to her will on more than one occasion already.
I never speak her name because I never wanted it to become a reality. But now it is a reality. And I still can't bring myself to say it.
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Friday. 11:16pm. Give A Little.
Tonight's crowd is fantastic. It really is. Every show there's a debate on whether to play Give A Little or not. We sort of have to, seeing as we released it as a single. But the conversation is always, "Do we bring a couple onstage? Do we not?"
Tonight we had decided to and I was sweating bullets. She was second row. I didn't even expect her to be standing so close!
It's time. We've been through the song and now it's time. It's always fun to bring people onstage because you never know what's going to happen. But tonight the anxiety over it overwhelmed me and I honestly didn't think I could do it.
The normal group of girls crazily crowded around the stage, crawling out of the woodworks to get there. Below me, all I can see are hands and desperate faces. My first instinct is to search for HER. I don't know what's holding me back, this would be more than perfect opportunity to be around her, but as my eyes land on hers I decide I can't do it. It helps that she's not raising her hand to volunteer either, so I don't feel so bad.
Except that I feel horrible about it.
However I have to make a judgment call and I decide that pulling HER onstage is an all-round bad idea. I don't need to be close to her. I don't need to dance with her, I don't need to touch her, I don't need to feel her hips underneath my hands so close to my own
body. I just can't trust myself.
So I pick someone else instead.
My eyes quickly dart to hers, as inconspicuously as I can. Does she look disappointed? Surprisingly, no. In fact, she almost looks relieved. I wonder why? Does she feel the same way I do? Does she have stage fright? Can she not dance?
I don't have time to think about it right now. Although, I can't stop the pounding of my heart as I wonder what she must be thinking, watching me dance with another fan. Oddly, this makes me feel empowered again. I think maybe earlier I felt like I was losing control of the situation. Now I feel like I'm recovering from a temporary moment of insanity and I'm now taking back the control I thought I'd lost. I smile at the fan I'm dancing with onstage. I'm glad I picked her.
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Saturday. 12:43am. Outside the bus.
I haven't touched my phone since before I went onstage for my solo. I just can't bring myself to do it. So much shit has happened today that I'm just honestly ready for it to be over, primarily so I can lay there in silence and reflect and collect my thoughts. I have a lot of thinking I need to do. It's gonna be a long night.
But first it's time to greet the fans. I always try to get this over as quickly as possible because I'm always so exhausted and there are SO MANY of them and it takes SO LONG. They always want pictures more than they want autographs. I try to balance it out and I always end up disappointing someone. It makes me feel bad to do it, but when you have one of us to every 50 fans, it can be overwhelming and time-consuming.
Tonight is different. Tonight I scan the crowd for one more chance to see HER before we leave for the next city. I remember she's short, so I aim my eyes low when I glance around. Then I feel silly and go back to concentrating on the fans in front of me.
I finish with a fan's autograph and I move to the next group consisting of her friends and I feel my heart rate speed up, hopeful. But she isn't there.
I smile and I'm nice to her friends. One of them wants a picture with me, so she turns around and gives the camera to the girl behind her. It's HER. She smiles as she prepares to take the picture and I sport a big, goofy grin that I can't control, honestly because I'm just happy she didn't leave.
She finishes with the camera and hands it back to her friend. Her friend turns to her and I hear her murmur, "Well, go ahead!"
Suddenly SHE is looking at me like a deer in headlights. I'm completely confused. She's displayed nothing but confidence all day. Oh what I would give to be able to read this woman!
Then she steps up and shoves a CD booklet at me. Hesitantly I take it from her, never taking my eyes off of her, and I flip through it to the same page I always sign. Reluctantly I focus on my autograph for a moment, never once asking her name, but writing it anyway. I don't think about it until after the fact and I'm sure it will freak her out but it's too late to worry about that now.
I hand her back her booklet but I don't let go of it. At this point, auto pilot has completely taken over and I no longer have any control over my actions or my words. It's so late and I'm so tired that it's really too exhausting to care. "Do you want a picture?" I find myself asking her.
Her eyes widen more, if that's even possible. Quietly and shyly she says, "Uh, I don't have my camera and my phone is acting weird."
Who was this woman and what happened to the one I talked to on the walk earlier today? What had changed since then? Maybe
I'm not the crazy one, maybe SHE is. Maybe she has multiple personalities or something. At this point I realize I'm grasping for
answers because her actions are just completely baffling me right now.
I don't wait for one of her friends to jump in and offer theirs like I know they were going to. Without thinking I blurt out, "It's okay, we can use my phone and I can tag you on Instagram or something."
I realize immediately that that was completely the wrong thing to say but I can't take it back now. I look at her and she, along with her friends, are gaping back at me. If I were them, I'd be gaping at me, too. Her friend, then, nudges her with her elbow and SHE says, "Uh, okay..."
She stands next to me and I put my arm around her and pull her close. After all, we do need to fit in the frame and there is no way I'm putting my phone in the hands of anyone out here. I can barely keep it together as I breathe in the floral scent of her hair, which is lightly brushing my chin. By the grace of god I manage to get one shot in and it happens to be a good one.
I smile and then she smiles and says thank you. I tell her to hold on while I upload it to Instagram to make sure it works. However before I do it, a brilliant plan pops into my head and I almost feel bad for it. Nevermind the fact that I have actually blown my OWN mind in having this idea to begin with and I'll have to think of a way to punish myself later. But the devil on my shoulder is
screaming loud in my ear and won't shut up so I go for it and I lie to her. "Uh, look, I don't know what's going on, but my Instagram won't load. Why don't you just give me your number and I'll text it to you."
Her jaw drops. Literally, her mouth is hanging open. Dammit, I just keep digging deeper and deeper. What is going on with me??
She stutters at first. "Uh...give you my--my what?"
And then it all just rolls off my tongue with ease. "Your number. Then I'll send you the picture, you can save it to your phone, and then I'll delete my number right after. It'll only take a second." It sounded logical to me. I'm so damn proud of my brilliance right now, I'm waiting for someone to present my award to me.
It works. Like a charm. Without hesitation, she rattles off her phone number. Eagerly, but not too eagerly, I type her number in
my phone and send her the picture as promised. Within seconds her alert goes off and she pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the picture. She smiles and I say to her, "May I?" as I reach for her phone.
She nods and hands me her phone. I'm not believing how trusting and cooperative she is. I don't know what to make of this. As
promised, I save the picture and I poise my finger over the button to delete the text before I hesitate for a moment. Certain that she can't see her own screen right now, I instead go into her call history and delete a phone number not attached to a name, at least so I can say I deleted SOMETHING. I have no idea who or what that number I just deleted could have been and frankly, I don't care. I smile and hand her phone back to her. She shoves it directly back in her pocket, never once looking at it.
I wonder how long it'll take.
I can feel eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as I continue on down the line. I don't know why I just did what I did, but suddenly I'm getting weird looks from Ike and Zac and my dad. Did that exchange really look that bad?
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Saturday. 3:02am. Bunk.
Peace and quiet and dark. Nothing but the sound of the humming of the wheels underneath the bus. This is exactly what I need right now.
I received a gang lashing from my brothers and my father after we finished up with the fans. I knew it was coming. I assured them that no harm came of it and they were over-reacting. They're not convinced but at least I was able to shut them up.
I get comfortable and scroll the app wall. It's rampant with action from tonight's show. As expected, it's full of posts about the phone incident. Oddly, though, SHE hasn't posted a thing. Not a post, reply, anything. I check Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Still nothing. It's official. I have officially freaked her out. Why in the hell do I have to be so damn weird?
Defeated, I close out all of my social media apps and then my text alert goes off. My wife never texts this late, so immediately I panic. Except that it's not my wife. It's HER. I didn't expect this. Hadn't anticipated it for a second.
"You didn't delete your number," she texts.
I text her back, "I know."
"Why?"
"I just didn't."
I didn't hear back from her for the rest of the night.
Friday. 8:17pm. Opening act currently onstage
"Convenience."
That had been her answer when I'd asked her what determined how many shows she was going to.
"Convenience."
I've been mulling over that word since she said it on the walk earlier today. "Well what's your determining factor?" "Convenience." What did that mean? Was she trying to say something? Was there something there I was supposed to pick up on? Convenient for who? Me or her? What would make it convenient for her to see multiple shows? I don't understand what she meant by it and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to or not.
I find myself listlessly going through my social media routine, only half expecting to find that she'd posted. She hasn't. I figured so
much. She's had plenty to keep her occupied today.
I glance around the room and my eyes land on my camera, which is hanging by the strap from the back of a chair, and I suddenly get an idea. I snatch up the camera and head for the stage, making an effort to stay as hidden as possible behind the curtain and still be able to see. I snap a couple of photos of the crowd and look at them. Unsatisfied, I zoom in as close as I can go and pan the crowd slowly. Sadly, she's nowhere to be found.
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Friday. 9:50pm. Showtime.
We're late going onstage. Later than we should have been. Ike and Zac don't seem to be too anxious about it but I've been completely restless. I have to see. I have to know. I have to find out where she is.
We enter from stage left to uproarious screams. They're the same every night. Nothing is different. As I smile and wave and make my way to the keys, I try to inconspicuously scan the crowd. I don't see her. My heart skips a beat for a moment when I see one of her friends but I don't see HER around.
We start the first song. The first song doesn't require keys and the fact that I begin to play them anyway tells me everything I need to know about my own mind at the moment and how much of a disaster this show has the potential to be. I take the mic off the stand and begin to sing, desperate to turn all my focus on the performance. I need to nail this. I owe it to Ike and Zac, and even Andrew and Demetrius, to nail this.
I perform the first couple of lines. I'm easing into it. The crowd is great tonight and it's easy to feed off of them. I find my comfort zone and migrate to Ike's side of the stage to create an evenly-distributed performance. Suddenly my eyes land on HER. Directly in front of Ike. Second row.
My heart begins to pound and as soon as she smiles at me I immediately feel the need to turn away and return to my designated spot onstage. I need to stay here for awhile while I think. While my mind goes back to mush. While I not only wonder how in the hell I'd missed her standing there, but why in the hell is she on IKE'S side of the stage??
My mind retraces recent events. He responded to her tweet. He got along with her on the walk today. Now she's chosen to stand on HIS side of the stage. Had I read this all wrong? Had I read HER all wrong? Did she prefer Ike over me? Does she even like me at all? Am I so crazy that I created this entire scenario where I thought maybe she was secretly communicating with me online?
As I let that last question run through my mind, I realize how insane it sounds. Tonight, in my bunk, instead of surfing social media, I'm going to be looking up personality disorders and what the psych ward can do for me. Because I know now that I must be sincerely, undeniably loony tunes.
By the start of the second song I still can't keep my eyes off of her. I hate how my keyboard is positioned sometimes. She sings along, she laughs with her friends, she dances--Jesus, she dances. I hope she doesn't notice that I keep watching her hips every chance I get to see her entire body--which, unfortunately, isn't often enough.
As I get into the second verse I catch her eyes with mine. She smirks at me. I can feel the blood rise in my face and I know. In that moment, I know. She is here for me. And she's on Ike's side on purpose.
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Friday. 10:33pm. Acoustic set.
The acoustic set is a welcome break for us. It also gives us an opportunity to connect with our fans on a more personal level. I can't help but glance over at Ike in jealousy over the fact that he gets to sit right in front of HER, up close and personal. From where I'm sitting I can't see her. It annoys me how she's so short.
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Friday. 10:50pm. Ike's solo.
I can't stop the jealousy. I don't understand why. I know she's here for me. I know she is. But now she's out there, probably swooning over Ike and I can't help but wonder--what if after this performance, she doesn't like me anymore? What if she decides she likes Ike now? What if...?
You know what, what if I were sane? What if THAT? Because these thoughts I'm having are not normal. They're just not. Not at
all.
For reasons unbeknownst to me, I decide to check the app wall. It's silly, I know, but I do it anyway, compelled by some imaginary
super power I've just made up in my head a second ago.
I pull up the app wall and then I freeze. Is this real? Is she testing me?
It's HER. She posted literally a minute ago, during Ike's solo. She called me out directly. She posted, "Dear Taylor: I'm at the show! And if you're lurking backstage right now, will you please play Take My Time for your solo? Pretty please!!"
I feel my eyes widening and, for some reason, I feel the need to look around to make sure I'm alone. I'm almost convinced that if Zac or Andrew or Demetrius are around while I'm reading it, they'll be able to hear me thinking about it. I feel so exposed right now.
It's that song. That song...this isn't the first time she's said anything about this song. It's eerie, in a way, that this is the song she tends to gravitate to. I hadn't intended to play that song. Not even in the least. My solo is supposed to be Crazy Beautiful. It's printed on the set list. But something's telling me to change it. I shouldn't change it. If I do this, the fans will know I singled her
out. They'll just know it. If they're paying attention to the app, that is. And if they're not paying attention to it now, they will be
later.
Besides, it's only me and the keyboard right? I mean, once I get out there and start playing I can't turn back. It's not like Zac or Ike can pop out of the back and be like, "Haha, just kidding! Now start over!"
I could do it. I could play the song.
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Friday. 10:55pm. My solo.
As the fans cheer for Ike, it's time for me to take the stage. As he walks past me backstage and pats my back, I still haven't made a song decision yet. I'm not sure I've ever gone onstage without a plan in my life...
I have to walk past her to get to my keyboard. I can't help but glance at her and I see her smile and raise her eyebrows at me. In that moment, I've made my decision.
I'm glad my keys are facing away from her. I've never been more glad for anything in my life. I know I can't face her right now. I could never do it. The other faces that I CAN see are more than a welcome sight.
The screams escalate to uncanny levels as I play the first few notes. I wonder what she's doing behind my back. Is she screaming with the rest of them? Is she silent, taking it all in? I don't know. The not knowing is bringing back the adrenaline--the thrill. I'm loving every second of it.
"I've never had a true obsession, but that's what you turned out to be." This line resonates with me as I struggle to sing the next ones. Obsession. I thought I had an uncanny secret addiction to social media. But now, as I keep singing this song, I'm beginning to think a little more. Not about social media, though. About HER. Obsession. I make a mental note to look up the formal definition of
the word and I finish the song.
As the fans scream and cheer, I make my way back across to exit stage left. I find my eyes immediately and uncontrollably locking with hers and she smiles and mouths a "Thank you" amidst all the craziness around her. I feel my eye twitch and instantly I realize that I've winked at her.
As I hit the cooler air backstage I discover that I've broken into a cold sweat and I start to feel a little dizzy. The reality is starting to set in and I don't know how I feel about it. She wasn't supposed to know. She wasn't supposed to know that I watched. She wasn't supposed to know that I waited. She wasn't supposed to know that I depended on her.
And now it feels like the tables have turned. I know now that she watches. I know now that she waits. I know now that she depends on me. And I have caved to her will on more than one occasion already.
I never speak her name because I never wanted it to become a reality. But now it is a reality. And I still can't bring myself to say it.
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Friday. 11:16pm. Give A Little.
Tonight's crowd is fantastic. It really is. Every show there's a debate on whether to play Give A Little or not. We sort of have to, seeing as we released it as a single. But the conversation is always, "Do we bring a couple onstage? Do we not?"
Tonight we had decided to and I was sweating bullets. She was second row. I didn't even expect her to be standing so close!
It's time. We've been through the song and now it's time. It's always fun to bring people onstage because you never know what's going to happen. But tonight the anxiety over it overwhelmed me and I honestly didn't think I could do it.
The normal group of girls crazily crowded around the stage, crawling out of the woodworks to get there. Below me, all I can see are hands and desperate faces. My first instinct is to search for HER. I don't know what's holding me back, this would be more than perfect opportunity to be around her, but as my eyes land on hers I decide I can't do it. It helps that she's not raising her hand to volunteer either, so I don't feel so bad.
Except that I feel horrible about it.
However I have to make a judgment call and I decide that pulling HER onstage is an all-round bad idea. I don't need to be close to her. I don't need to dance with her, I don't need to touch her, I don't need to feel her hips underneath my hands so close to my own
body. I just can't trust myself.
So I pick someone else instead.
My eyes quickly dart to hers, as inconspicuously as I can. Does she look disappointed? Surprisingly, no. In fact, she almost looks relieved. I wonder why? Does she feel the same way I do? Does she have stage fright? Can she not dance?
I don't have time to think about it right now. Although, I can't stop the pounding of my heart as I wonder what she must be thinking, watching me dance with another fan. Oddly, this makes me feel empowered again. I think maybe earlier I felt like I was losing control of the situation. Now I feel like I'm recovering from a temporary moment of insanity and I'm now taking back the control I thought I'd lost. I smile at the fan I'm dancing with onstage. I'm glad I picked her.
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Saturday. 12:43am. Outside the bus.
I haven't touched my phone since before I went onstage for my solo. I just can't bring myself to do it. So much shit has happened today that I'm just honestly ready for it to be over, primarily so I can lay there in silence and reflect and collect my thoughts. I have a lot of thinking I need to do. It's gonna be a long night.
But first it's time to greet the fans. I always try to get this over as quickly as possible because I'm always so exhausted and there are SO MANY of them and it takes SO LONG. They always want pictures more than they want autographs. I try to balance it out and I always end up disappointing someone. It makes me feel bad to do it, but when you have one of us to every 50 fans, it can be overwhelming and time-consuming.
Tonight is different. Tonight I scan the crowd for one more chance to see HER before we leave for the next city. I remember she's short, so I aim my eyes low when I glance around. Then I feel silly and go back to concentrating on the fans in front of me.
I finish with a fan's autograph and I move to the next group consisting of her friends and I feel my heart rate speed up, hopeful. But she isn't there.
I smile and I'm nice to her friends. One of them wants a picture with me, so she turns around and gives the camera to the girl behind her. It's HER. She smiles as she prepares to take the picture and I sport a big, goofy grin that I can't control, honestly because I'm just happy she didn't leave.
She finishes with the camera and hands it back to her friend. Her friend turns to her and I hear her murmur, "Well, go ahead!"
Suddenly SHE is looking at me like a deer in headlights. I'm completely confused. She's displayed nothing but confidence all day. Oh what I would give to be able to read this woman!
Then she steps up and shoves a CD booklet at me. Hesitantly I take it from her, never taking my eyes off of her, and I flip through it to the same page I always sign. Reluctantly I focus on my autograph for a moment, never once asking her name, but writing it anyway. I don't think about it until after the fact and I'm sure it will freak her out but it's too late to worry about that now.
I hand her back her booklet but I don't let go of it. At this point, auto pilot has completely taken over and I no longer have any control over my actions or my words. It's so late and I'm so tired that it's really too exhausting to care. "Do you want a picture?" I find myself asking her.
Her eyes widen more, if that's even possible. Quietly and shyly she says, "Uh, I don't have my camera and my phone is acting weird."
Who was this woman and what happened to the one I talked to on the walk earlier today? What had changed since then? Maybe
I'm not the crazy one, maybe SHE is. Maybe she has multiple personalities or something. At this point I realize I'm grasping for
answers because her actions are just completely baffling me right now.
I don't wait for one of her friends to jump in and offer theirs like I know they were going to. Without thinking I blurt out, "It's okay, we can use my phone and I can tag you on Instagram or something."
I realize immediately that that was completely the wrong thing to say but I can't take it back now. I look at her and she, along with her friends, are gaping back at me. If I were them, I'd be gaping at me, too. Her friend, then, nudges her with her elbow and SHE says, "Uh, okay..."
She stands next to me and I put my arm around her and pull her close. After all, we do need to fit in the frame and there is no way I'm putting my phone in the hands of anyone out here. I can barely keep it together as I breathe in the floral scent of her hair, which is lightly brushing my chin. By the grace of god I manage to get one shot in and it happens to be a good one.
I smile and then she smiles and says thank you. I tell her to hold on while I upload it to Instagram to make sure it works. However before I do it, a brilliant plan pops into my head and I almost feel bad for it. Nevermind the fact that I have actually blown my OWN mind in having this idea to begin with and I'll have to think of a way to punish myself later. But the devil on my shoulder is
screaming loud in my ear and won't shut up so I go for it and I lie to her. "Uh, look, I don't know what's going on, but my Instagram won't load. Why don't you just give me your number and I'll text it to you."
Her jaw drops. Literally, her mouth is hanging open. Dammit, I just keep digging deeper and deeper. What is going on with me??
She stutters at first. "Uh...give you my--my what?"
And then it all just rolls off my tongue with ease. "Your number. Then I'll send you the picture, you can save it to your phone, and then I'll delete my number right after. It'll only take a second." It sounded logical to me. I'm so damn proud of my brilliance right now, I'm waiting for someone to present my award to me.
It works. Like a charm. Without hesitation, she rattles off her phone number. Eagerly, but not too eagerly, I type her number in
my phone and send her the picture as promised. Within seconds her alert goes off and she pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the picture. She smiles and I say to her, "May I?" as I reach for her phone.
She nods and hands me her phone. I'm not believing how trusting and cooperative she is. I don't know what to make of this. As
promised, I save the picture and I poise my finger over the button to delete the text before I hesitate for a moment. Certain that she can't see her own screen right now, I instead go into her call history and delete a phone number not attached to a name, at least so I can say I deleted SOMETHING. I have no idea who or what that number I just deleted could have been and frankly, I don't care. I smile and hand her phone back to her. She shoves it directly back in her pocket, never once looking at it.
I wonder how long it'll take.
I can feel eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as I continue on down the line. I don't know why I just did what I did, but suddenly I'm getting weird looks from Ike and Zac and my dad. Did that exchange really look that bad?
__________________________________________________
Saturday. 3:02am. Bunk.
Peace and quiet and dark. Nothing but the sound of the humming of the wheels underneath the bus. This is exactly what I need right now.
I received a gang lashing from my brothers and my father after we finished up with the fans. I knew it was coming. I assured them that no harm came of it and they were over-reacting. They're not convinced but at least I was able to shut them up.
I get comfortable and scroll the app wall. It's rampant with action from tonight's show. As expected, it's full of posts about the phone incident. Oddly, though, SHE hasn't posted a thing. Not a post, reply, anything. I check Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Still nothing. It's official. I have officially freaked her out. Why in the hell do I have to be so damn weird?
Defeated, I close out all of my social media apps and then my text alert goes off. My wife never texts this late, so immediately I panic. Except that it's not my wife. It's HER. I didn't expect this. Hadn't anticipated it for a second.
"You didn't delete your number," she texts.
I text her back, "I know."
"Why?"
"I just didn't."
I didn't hear back from her for the rest of the night.