TEN
Tuesday. 1:30am. Bunk.
Drama on the app.
Of course I'm on the app. When am I not anymore? I've been crazy these past few days, after my night with HER. I haven't heard from her since the last time we texted. She had said she was picking up her fiancée from the airport. Does she only talk to me when he's not home? Does she only seek me out when he doesn't know? Does she only watch and wait for me when she's lonely? Like I do?
I was right. We are the same.
Anyway, back to the app. Drama has apparently ensued today. It's to be expected when you get scores of women together in one environment like that. A lot of times the drama is petty and childish and downright crazy.
But if you're like me, a person with my secret little addiction, you kind of find it amusing.
I don't even understand what sparked it, honestly. I mean, I've scrolled and read and I've seen the origins. Someone speculated
something. A debate followed. Then a rude comment from a habitually rude person. And then WWIII happened.
But at least it's distracting me from myself. Right now I'd take just about any stupid thing to distract me from my own thoughts. I scroll through the bickering. I agree with some of them. I wish some of them were more eloquent in their wording. Much like this girl, actually. She only responds once and it's perfect and she drives the point straight home and tells the offenders where they can shove it without actually saying it. She has class. She has--OH MY GOD IT'S HER!
How did I miss her? How did I completely miss it? Because her profile picture is different. After all these months with the same picture and she all of a sudden decides to change it up?
I immediately rush to Facebook because that's the account she's signed in through. She just changed her profile picture today. It's a cute picture of her. It's a selfie, her head posed with her hand in her messy hair--and showing off that damn ring. I sneer at the screen and then I glance down at my own ring and instantly feel foolish.
Wait a minute. If she's been online, why the hell isn't she trying to contact me? Does she always have to contact me every time she gets online? Is it that necessary? Actually, yes. Yes, it is. I search for her every single time I get online. Hell, half the time, she
IS the reason I get online. I think I deserve the same respect.
I haven't posted on Instagram in awhile. But what the hell kind of picture can I take from this bunk?
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 9:58am. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
My sleep aide kicked in kinda suddenly last night. One minute I was thinking of picture ideas, the next minute I was out cold. But the rest is appreciated. Holy shit, is it appreciated.
I feel awesome. I feel like I can take on the world. I feel like--is Ike seriously drinking my last iced coffee??
I may die. Or he may. I haven't figured it out yet.
However, before I can think of a place to hide Ike's body, laughter erupts from Zac from behind his laptop in the corner by the window. Ike and I both turn our heads to look at him.
He looks at us, still laughing. "You guys should see this. This is probably the most awesome fan ever." Curious at what could possibly garner this type of reaction from Zac, Ike and I look over his shoulder at his Hanson.net inbox. Ike starts to laugh. I chuckle. The fan's question IS funny. She's hit the nail on the head with her assumption about Zac. After thinking about it for a moment, I laugh, too. We start to discuss what his reply should be when my eyes land on the screen name and suddenly my mood changes on a dime.
___________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:10am. Red.
How could she? Sending Zac private messages? I don't care how generic and harmless it seemed, how could she be online this whole time, send my brother private messages, and completely ignore me? Is she avoiding me? This isn't fair.
I'm not sure if my sudden silence is noticeable, but right now I don't really care. My mind begins to wander. Back to that night. The
night I slept with her. When I came back to my room and met Zac in the hall. Why was he up so late? Why did she kick me out so
quickly? Why does she disappear on me for days at a time?
Interrupting their laughing, my eyes suddenly see red and I say to Zac, "Are you sleeping with her?"
Silence.
Finally Zac says, "What? Who? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Tay?" Ike says. "What is the matter with you?"
I look from Ike to Zac, my breathing quickening. "You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"
Zac looks at me as if I have three heads. "Dude, I'm fucking married. I'm not sleeping with anyone! I don't do that shit." Then his expression softens and his voice lowers. "Are you?"
Now it's my turn to look at him like he's crazy, covering my ass on auto-pilot. "What? No. Of course I'm not."
"Tay?" Ike asks. "Do, uh, do we need to talk?"
I glance at Ike. "About what? What would we need to talk about?"
"Well, I mean, do you have some sort of problem?"
I glance back and forth at Ike's and Zac's expectant faces. It's clear to me now that I have made a horrible, terrible mistake. I'm known for speaking before I think and this time takes the cake. I may have just severely screwed up. Poorly trying to save face, I say, "I--there's no problem. I guess--I had a weird dream last night? I need some fresh air." I look around the bus. "When did the bus stop?"
Ike and Zac exchange looks. "I'm kinda worried," Zac says.
"Me, too," Ike responds.
"No need to worry. I'm sorry for my outburst. Maybe it's just a little cabin fever. I just need some air, I'll be fine."
I can't get off this bus fast enough.
__________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:20am. Phone call.
I step off the bus and stand there for a few seconds. I breathe in the warm morning air, trying to get a grip on myself. But I can't. I
just can't. I'm still fuming.
I pull out my phone and call HER. I've never tried to call her before and under normal circumstances I would be a nervous wreck. But not today. Not right now.
To my amazement, she answers. But I'm too upset for niceties. "Are you sleeping with my brother?"
"Which one?"
Her retort nearly sends me over the edge. "This is not the time for games."
"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're calling me," she says, flatly.
"Why? Were you expecting Zac?"
"Why the hell would I expect Zac?"
"Why not? You obviously have a thing for him. You got something going on with Ike, too? I know you do. You're fucking all three of
us, aren't you? Open relationship, my ass. You're nothing more than another groupie whore."
"Yeah, Tay. Congratu-fucking-lations, you guessed it. That's my ultimate life goal, to be the Hanson whore. Wow, you DO know me better than I thought!"
I've offended her. I don't care. "Then what? What is it? Why are you messaging Zac? Being all buddy-buddy with Ike on the walks? Why are you ignoring me online? What the hell else am I supposed to think?"
"You know what? Fuck you. I don't know who the hell you think you are, calling me and disrespecting me with all this crazy shit you're spouting out, but I will NOT sit here and allow you to insult me this way. Maybe when you've calmed down some, you can call me back and we can try this again. Like adults. Sane adults."
And then the call drops.
Except it didn't drop. She hung up on me. I want to throw my phone on the ground. I want to smash the shit out of it with my heel and never own another cell phone ever again. They're nothing but trouble.
How dare she? How dare she at all? Dammit, this is MY secret! MY fantasy! Who is she to control it? Who is she to private message my brother behind my back? Or to accuse me of being crazy and hanging up on ME? This is MINE! I call the shots here!
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:32am. Regret.
Shit, what have I done?
This is my secret. My fantasy. And I've ruined it. I've all but outed myself to my brothers and called my fantasy girl a whore. I
realize I'm a little nutso, but now I'm also incredibly stupid?
Without wasting time, I call her back. I'm astonished when I hear her voice, live, on the other end. "Well that was fast."
"Uh, yeah...look--"
"I'm a fan of your band, Tay." She interrupts me and I allow it. Right now I owe her anything she wants. "I've been a fan since
way before I met you. So, yes, I like you all in your own way. If I want to private message something to Zac or Ike, I have that right."
"I know..."
"You don't own me, you know. Nobody does."
"I know. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I am."
"I can't get involved with someone like this. Not if you're going to be all crazy like this. It's weird and it's stressful and I don't have
time for it. Tay, I think--"
"No!" I know what she's going to say. I can't allow it. "Don't finish that sentence. Look, okay, I had a temporary moment of
insanity. We all have those, right? Sometimes the road can make you a little crazy, you know?"
"You called me a groupie whore."
"I didn't mean it. You have to believe me."
There's silence on her end. I can't take this.
"I believe you," she finally says. I'm so relieved, I almost piss myself. "And the fact that I think about the other night nonstop has
nothing to do with it."
"You do? Think about it, I mean."
"Don't you?"
"Uh," I run a nervous hand through my hair. "I can't--get it out of my head."
"I've also been thinking about what you said," she continues. "You know, about getting to know each other and all that junk."
My heart races. This is borderlining unchartered territory. I mean, yeah, I want to know her. But her reasoning against it was just
starting to make sense...
She keeps talking. "And--well--I guess I don't see where it would hurt...much...I mean, I wouldn't mind crawling into your head a little bit, myself."
Why is my heart still pounding? Why are my palms sweaty? What--why?
You know what? I don't care. I'm on tour. This is my secret and, dammit, I'm going for it.
"Tay, are you there?"
"Yeah!" I say, suddenly. Maybe a little loudly. And a little too eager. "Yeah, I'm here. I--what made you change your mind?"
"Don't read into this too much. You're lucky you're getting this."
"Well you got that right," I mutter.
"Seriously, you're pushing it."
"Okay. Okay."
"Uh, hey, so...you wanna go get coffee or something?"
I laugh. Loudly. I can't help it. It kills me. "Yeah. Let me just go to the nearest coffee shop around here while I'm on the phone with you and I can order one for both of us and drink them both. I'll describe the flavor to you, it'll be great."
"No," she says, quietly. "I mean real coffee."
My laughing stops abruptly. "What do you mean? Are you stalking me again?"
"No. You're in my hometown today."
________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:42am. Shock.
With the phone on my ear, I spin around and look frantically at my surroundings. It's a reflex. "Your hometown? You live in--you
live in Texas?"
"Born and raised."
"Texas is--I mean, this city is near--"
"I know where I'm located."
"Are you coming to the show tonight?"
"It was going to be a surprise. But since you chose to play the lunatic card I figured maybe we ought to meet now."
"How come I never knew you lived in Texas?"
"I don't spill me entire world on the internet. I'm honestly surprised you didn't find it out yourself. So, coffee or not?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"Give me an hour."
"I thought you lived here?"
"You woke me up. I need to shower and then I'll be there. See you in a few."
"Wait. Don't you need to know where I am?"
"I know where you are."
And then she hangs up.
I stand there for a moment, taking it all in. This has probably been the craziest morning I've ever had. Granted, I've been the main source of the crazy, but that's not the point.
I turn around and look at the bus door. Damn. Here's a new hurdle. Getting past Ike and Zac with the crazy that I left them with when I got off the bus. How in the hell am I gonna smooth this one over?
Tuesday. 1:30am. Bunk.
Drama on the app.
Of course I'm on the app. When am I not anymore? I've been crazy these past few days, after my night with HER. I haven't heard from her since the last time we texted. She had said she was picking up her fiancée from the airport. Does she only talk to me when he's not home? Does she only seek me out when he doesn't know? Does she only watch and wait for me when she's lonely? Like I do?
I was right. We are the same.
Anyway, back to the app. Drama has apparently ensued today. It's to be expected when you get scores of women together in one environment like that. A lot of times the drama is petty and childish and downright crazy.
But if you're like me, a person with my secret little addiction, you kind of find it amusing.
I don't even understand what sparked it, honestly. I mean, I've scrolled and read and I've seen the origins. Someone speculated
something. A debate followed. Then a rude comment from a habitually rude person. And then WWIII happened.
But at least it's distracting me from myself. Right now I'd take just about any stupid thing to distract me from my own thoughts. I scroll through the bickering. I agree with some of them. I wish some of them were more eloquent in their wording. Much like this girl, actually. She only responds once and it's perfect and she drives the point straight home and tells the offenders where they can shove it without actually saying it. She has class. She has--OH MY GOD IT'S HER!
How did I miss her? How did I completely miss it? Because her profile picture is different. After all these months with the same picture and she all of a sudden decides to change it up?
I immediately rush to Facebook because that's the account she's signed in through. She just changed her profile picture today. It's a cute picture of her. It's a selfie, her head posed with her hand in her messy hair--and showing off that damn ring. I sneer at the screen and then I glance down at my own ring and instantly feel foolish.
Wait a minute. If she's been online, why the hell isn't she trying to contact me? Does she always have to contact me every time she gets online? Is it that necessary? Actually, yes. Yes, it is. I search for her every single time I get online. Hell, half the time, she
IS the reason I get online. I think I deserve the same respect.
I haven't posted on Instagram in awhile. But what the hell kind of picture can I take from this bunk?
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 9:58am. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
My sleep aide kicked in kinda suddenly last night. One minute I was thinking of picture ideas, the next minute I was out cold. But the rest is appreciated. Holy shit, is it appreciated.
I feel awesome. I feel like I can take on the world. I feel like--is Ike seriously drinking my last iced coffee??
I may die. Or he may. I haven't figured it out yet.
However, before I can think of a place to hide Ike's body, laughter erupts from Zac from behind his laptop in the corner by the window. Ike and I both turn our heads to look at him.
He looks at us, still laughing. "You guys should see this. This is probably the most awesome fan ever." Curious at what could possibly garner this type of reaction from Zac, Ike and I look over his shoulder at his Hanson.net inbox. Ike starts to laugh. I chuckle. The fan's question IS funny. She's hit the nail on the head with her assumption about Zac. After thinking about it for a moment, I laugh, too. We start to discuss what his reply should be when my eyes land on the screen name and suddenly my mood changes on a dime.
___________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:10am. Red.
How could she? Sending Zac private messages? I don't care how generic and harmless it seemed, how could she be online this whole time, send my brother private messages, and completely ignore me? Is she avoiding me? This isn't fair.
I'm not sure if my sudden silence is noticeable, but right now I don't really care. My mind begins to wander. Back to that night. The
night I slept with her. When I came back to my room and met Zac in the hall. Why was he up so late? Why did she kick me out so
quickly? Why does she disappear on me for days at a time?
Interrupting their laughing, my eyes suddenly see red and I say to Zac, "Are you sleeping with her?"
Silence.
Finally Zac says, "What? Who? What the hell are you talking about?"
"Tay?" Ike says. "What is the matter with you?"
I look from Ike to Zac, my breathing quickening. "You're sleeping with her, aren't you?"
Zac looks at me as if I have three heads. "Dude, I'm fucking married. I'm not sleeping with anyone! I don't do that shit." Then his expression softens and his voice lowers. "Are you?"
Now it's my turn to look at him like he's crazy, covering my ass on auto-pilot. "What? No. Of course I'm not."
"Tay?" Ike asks. "Do, uh, do we need to talk?"
I glance at Ike. "About what? What would we need to talk about?"
"Well, I mean, do you have some sort of problem?"
I glance back and forth at Ike's and Zac's expectant faces. It's clear to me now that I have made a horrible, terrible mistake. I'm known for speaking before I think and this time takes the cake. I may have just severely screwed up. Poorly trying to save face, I say, "I--there's no problem. I guess--I had a weird dream last night? I need some fresh air." I look around the bus. "When did the bus stop?"
Ike and Zac exchange looks. "I'm kinda worried," Zac says.
"Me, too," Ike responds.
"No need to worry. I'm sorry for my outburst. Maybe it's just a little cabin fever. I just need some air, I'll be fine."
I can't get off this bus fast enough.
__________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:20am. Phone call.
I step off the bus and stand there for a few seconds. I breathe in the warm morning air, trying to get a grip on myself. But I can't. I
just can't. I'm still fuming.
I pull out my phone and call HER. I've never tried to call her before and under normal circumstances I would be a nervous wreck. But not today. Not right now.
To my amazement, she answers. But I'm too upset for niceties. "Are you sleeping with my brother?"
"Which one?"
Her retort nearly sends me over the edge. "This is not the time for games."
"I'm sorry, I just can't believe you're calling me," she says, flatly.
"Why? Were you expecting Zac?"
"Why the hell would I expect Zac?"
"Why not? You obviously have a thing for him. You got something going on with Ike, too? I know you do. You're fucking all three of
us, aren't you? Open relationship, my ass. You're nothing more than another groupie whore."
"Yeah, Tay. Congratu-fucking-lations, you guessed it. That's my ultimate life goal, to be the Hanson whore. Wow, you DO know me better than I thought!"
I've offended her. I don't care. "Then what? What is it? Why are you messaging Zac? Being all buddy-buddy with Ike on the walks? Why are you ignoring me online? What the hell else am I supposed to think?"
"You know what? Fuck you. I don't know who the hell you think you are, calling me and disrespecting me with all this crazy shit you're spouting out, but I will NOT sit here and allow you to insult me this way. Maybe when you've calmed down some, you can call me back and we can try this again. Like adults. Sane adults."
And then the call drops.
Except it didn't drop. She hung up on me. I want to throw my phone on the ground. I want to smash the shit out of it with my heel and never own another cell phone ever again. They're nothing but trouble.
How dare she? How dare she at all? Dammit, this is MY secret! MY fantasy! Who is she to control it? Who is she to private message my brother behind my back? Or to accuse me of being crazy and hanging up on ME? This is MINE! I call the shots here!
______________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:32am. Regret.
Shit, what have I done?
This is my secret. My fantasy. And I've ruined it. I've all but outed myself to my brothers and called my fantasy girl a whore. I
realize I'm a little nutso, but now I'm also incredibly stupid?
Without wasting time, I call her back. I'm astonished when I hear her voice, live, on the other end. "Well that was fast."
"Uh, yeah...look--"
"I'm a fan of your band, Tay." She interrupts me and I allow it. Right now I owe her anything she wants. "I've been a fan since
way before I met you. So, yes, I like you all in your own way. If I want to private message something to Zac or Ike, I have that right."
"I know..."
"You don't own me, you know. Nobody does."
"I know. You're absolutely right. I'm sorry, I am."
"I can't get involved with someone like this. Not if you're going to be all crazy like this. It's weird and it's stressful and I don't have
time for it. Tay, I think--"
"No!" I know what she's going to say. I can't allow it. "Don't finish that sentence. Look, okay, I had a temporary moment of
insanity. We all have those, right? Sometimes the road can make you a little crazy, you know?"
"You called me a groupie whore."
"I didn't mean it. You have to believe me."
There's silence on her end. I can't take this.
"I believe you," she finally says. I'm so relieved, I almost piss myself. "And the fact that I think about the other night nonstop has
nothing to do with it."
"You do? Think about it, I mean."
"Don't you?"
"Uh," I run a nervous hand through my hair. "I can't--get it out of my head."
"I've also been thinking about what you said," she continues. "You know, about getting to know each other and all that junk."
My heart races. This is borderlining unchartered territory. I mean, yeah, I want to know her. But her reasoning against it was just
starting to make sense...
She keeps talking. "And--well--I guess I don't see where it would hurt...much...I mean, I wouldn't mind crawling into your head a little bit, myself."
Why is my heart still pounding? Why are my palms sweaty? What--why?
You know what? I don't care. I'm on tour. This is my secret and, dammit, I'm going for it.
"Tay, are you there?"
"Yeah!" I say, suddenly. Maybe a little loudly. And a little too eager. "Yeah, I'm here. I--what made you change your mind?"
"Don't read into this too much. You're lucky you're getting this."
"Well you got that right," I mutter.
"Seriously, you're pushing it."
"Okay. Okay."
"Uh, hey, so...you wanna go get coffee or something?"
I laugh. Loudly. I can't help it. It kills me. "Yeah. Let me just go to the nearest coffee shop around here while I'm on the phone with you and I can order one for both of us and drink them both. I'll describe the flavor to you, it'll be great."
"No," she says, quietly. "I mean real coffee."
My laughing stops abruptly. "What do you mean? Are you stalking me again?"
"No. You're in my hometown today."
________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:42am. Shock.
With the phone on my ear, I spin around and look frantically at my surroundings. It's a reflex. "Your hometown? You live in--you
live in Texas?"
"Born and raised."
"Texas is--I mean, this city is near--"
"I know where I'm located."
"Are you coming to the show tonight?"
"It was going to be a surprise. But since you chose to play the lunatic card I figured maybe we ought to meet now."
"How come I never knew you lived in Texas?"
"I don't spill me entire world on the internet. I'm honestly surprised you didn't find it out yourself. So, coffee or not?"
"Yes. Definitely."
"Give me an hour."
"I thought you lived here?"
"You woke me up. I need to shower and then I'll be there. See you in a few."
"Wait. Don't you need to know where I am?"
"I know where you are."
And then she hangs up.
I stand there for a moment, taking it all in. This has probably been the craziest morning I've ever had. Granted, I've been the main source of the crazy, but that's not the point.
I turn around and look at the bus door. Damn. Here's a new hurdle. Getting past Ike and Zac with the crazy that I left them with when I got off the bus. How in the hell am I gonna smooth this one over?