THIRTEEN
Tuesday. 11:17am. Starbucks.
Today we have a day off. Thank god. Not that I'm not enjoying playing. I am. I always do. It's just that I've had that email on my mind since I opened it but I haven't had sufficient enough time to think up a response to it.
So here I sit in Starbucks. I always manage to find a Starbucks wherever I go. If I could plan all of our tour locations around which cities had a Starbucks close to the venue, I totally would. But alas, it doesn't always work out that way, so I take the luxuries as I get them.
As it happens, Starbucks is the only place where I can have peace of mind right now, despite how busy it is with its usual Canadian customers. I don't mind them and most of them don't know me, so it works out in my favor, ultimately. I just need a bit to be away from what's familiar. To be away from TOUR.
I brought my laptop. I normally don't, but I've decided that I don't really want to sit here and type out my email over my phone. I'm still not sure exactly what to say to her, but I do know I'm not in the mood to sugarcoat it. She never did strike me as the type of person who does much sugarcoating, or does much tolerating of it, either. I mean, hell, you saw her email to me! So I choose to be
frank right back at her:
"I'm an asshole. I get it. I didn't mean to be an asshole, again, but you caught me off guard. I appreciate your concern for me and I'm touched that you care, but honestly, I haven't even had any headaches since the last time we saw each other. I really think you just caught me at a freak moment. But I think maybe you were right in the first place. Maybe we shouldn't get too personal. I mean, we can get personal without getting too personal. You know? Except that I don't really know how to not get too personal with you because I want to know everything there is to know about you. You fascinate me. And I know that's not fair because you should be able to get to know me, too. So with that being said, I'm willing to let this little exchange be water under the bridge and try to take it easy like you suggested. Our friendship should be light. And fun. Not weird or emotionally heavy. Then we'd be defeating our purpose, right? Consider me waving the white flag, once and for all. I'll call you once we get out of Canada."
And SEND.
Waving the white flag? Is that what I said? Did I just surrender the rights to my own fantasy?
Is this even considered a fantasy anymore?
__________________________________________
Tuesday. 11:30am. Response.
I'm kind of surprised to get a response so quickly. I find my heart racing once again as I open my email.
"I won't lie. I'm a little confused. But I'm choosing to take what I can get here. I accept your white flag and agree to let bygones be bygones. I'd like to start fresh. Please do call me when you get back in the US. Believe it or not, I might kinda miss you. A little. Don't read too much into it. ;) "
I'm a little over the moon right now. I shouldn't allow myself to be, but I can't help it. I'm relieved that we're okay. I'm relieved we were able to resolve our issue--well, my issue. I'm relieved that she's so easy to talk to and work with and--and, well, she misses me! That right there is just unbelievable.
With an elated smile, I pack up my laptop and leave Starbucks.
____________________________________________
Tuesday. 11:55am. Carelessness has a price.
Everything is right with the world when I make it back to where our bus is parked. There was a reason why we didn't get a hotel for our day off. I don't remember what it was and it's really a non-issue anyway. A bed's a bed as far as I'm concerned.
When I board the bus, all eyes are on me. It's eerily silent and even my father is present. Andrew, Demetrius, and our driver all make their way to the back of the bus. It's at this moment that I realize that something is terribly wrong and panic quickly begins to rise within me.
I look in the three pairs of eyes staring back at me: Ike's, Zac's, and my father's. "What's going on?" I ask. I begin to silently pray. I pray for my wife, each one of my children, my mother, every one of my siblings. I move on to aunts and uncles when I see my cell phone.
In Ike's hand.
Normally I would panic at such a sight but I've been careful to delete all my conversations with HER so I have nothing to hide. It's actually more of an annoyance that he has ahold of it in the first place. Was it too hard to just leave it laying where he found it?
"Son, I think it's time we finally had a chat. Just us guys," my father says, motioning me to sit down.
My father can be an intimidating figure sometimes and this time just happens to be one of those times. Without question, I take the seat closest to me, never taking my eyes off of him. He hold his hand out to Ike and Ike hands him my cell phone. What is going on here?
"Is there something you think you might need to get off your chest?" my father asks. "I mean, once and for all, get it all out in the open?"
I look at him, and then over at Ike and then Zac. All eyes are on me, waiting for me to answer. "Uh, for one thing, I know I'm a 30-year-old grown man and I kinda don't appreciate being treated like a child. Which, quite honestly, is something I'm noticing is happening more and more frequently lately. So maybe I'm the one that should be asking you guys the questions, instead of the other way around."
"I'd advise you to watch your tone with me," my father says.
"And I'd advise you to remember that I'm an adult," I snap back.
"Okay, okay," Ike jumps in. "Maybe this approach is wrong. Tay--Tay, you've just been acting really weird lately. I mean, just bizarre. I don't get it, Zac doesn't get it, Dad doesn't get it. We've all tried expressing our concern for you but all you do is blow us off."
"I don't know what problem you guys think I'm supposed to have. I mean, I can make one up, right here on the spot. You gotta give me a little something to work with, though. Give me some direction. I don't do vague." I'm getting increasingly agitated. I hate being backed into a corner for no apparent reason. I wish they would just get to the damn point already. "As a matter of fact," I continue. "Why don't YOU tell me what YOU think my problem is. Since you're so convinced that I have one."
"We know what your problem is," my dad says as he tosses me my phone. "I was just giving you the opportunity to say it yourself."
I look down at my phone and light up the screen. Right there in front of me is the last text conversation I had with HER. Every single word. How in the hell had I not deleted it??
_____________________________________________
Tuesday. 12:09pm. Infuriated.
I feel my ears start to burn. That's how hot my blood is boiling right now. How dare they? How DARE they? "What in the hell gives any of you the right to just randomly go through my phone? Don't you guys know the definition of invasion of privacy? What goes on in my phone is NONE of your business! Any of you!"
"Except that it's not just in your phone," Ike said. "Which, even if it was, still wouldn't make it right. And as far as invasion of privacy? When were you thinking about invasion of privacy when you stole all of our bus keys the night you locked me out of the bus?"
"I didn't steal any bus keys!" I'm lying through my teeth but I don't care. How dare they? "I told you, I locked the door so I could have privacy because my wife and I--"
"I saw you take the girl on the bus," Zac finally butts in.
And now I'm at a loss for words. Momentarily. Through my teeth, I say to Zac, "I don't know what you THINK you saw that night, but regardless of what mistake your eyes made, that doesn't give any of you ANY right to go through my phone."
"Come on, Tay," my dad bellows. "We could smell her perfume all over the seat here!"
She actually wasn't wearing perfume that night, it was her hair. But I wouldn't dare open my mouth to correct them.
"Your notification alerts kept going off, loudly, and I had to follow the sound of your phone to turn it off. That's when I saw the texts," Ike says calmly.
"So you decide to pass my phone around for sport?" I'm livid. Completely livid.
"It wasn't for sport--"
"You can't give me any excuse to make this okay," I continue. "Whatever goes on in MY personal life is just that. My PERSONAL life. It's not any of your business. Not ANY of it!"
"That night at the hotel," Zac said. "And your outburst last week--"
"Zac, stop trying to play detective," I sneer at him. "This conversation is over. In fact, it should have never even started."
"It needs to happen before Natalie finds out," my father says.
I stand up to slide my phone into my pocket. "What, is that a threat? Cause she's not gonna find out. Who's gonna tell her? You think she hasn't had any little trysts of her own?"
"Has she?" Zac asks.
"If she had, would it be any of your business?"
"Is this the same girl you gave your number to that night? That fan?" my father asks.
"It's not anyone because there's nothing going on. I'm allowed to have friends."
"Tay, this whole thing--it's not even the point. I mean it's part of it, but--"
I cut Ike off. "Gee, I can't wait to hear this one."
Ignoring my sarcasm, he continues, "The point is, whatever is or isn't going on, it's changing you. And it's not good."
"Changing me? Nothing's changing me. I'm exactly the same person I've always been."
"You're really not. You're constantly defensive, possessive--"
"Defensive and possessive? You stole my fucking phone! What do you expect? You ask where I'm going and who I'm talking to 24/7! You treat me like a fucking child!"
"You're angry all the time, you have random outbursts, you're popping random pills, and you seem to be closing yourself off to everyone, more and more frequently," Ike finshes.
"Popping random pills?? You guys GAVE me those pills! Practically forced them down my throat! And to this day I STILL don't know whose they are or WHAT they are! As a matter of fact, where are they now?"
"Tay, what are you talking about?" Zac asked. "None of us ever gave you any pills. Nobody on this bus is even taking anything."
I look at Zac in disbelief. Then I look at Ike. Hard, into his eyes. How in the fuck are they sitting here, bold-faced lying to me like this? To my face? Hell, if it weren't for Zac forcing me to take that pill with me last week, my head would have likely exploded, and now they're denying it ever happened?? "Are you fucking using me as a scapegoat for your own drug problem?" I ask Zac in disbelief.
"Excuse me?" Zac asks.
"That pill you made me take with me last week. You GAVE it to me. YOU did. YOU told me to take it! And now you're just gonna act like I'm the one who's lying? You're fucking unbelievable! You and Ike both!"
My father takes a hard look at my brothers. "Zac. Is this true?"
Zac simply shrugs and shakes his head.
"You know what? Fuck all of you. Seriously, this entire thing is so fucked up. I can't even believe this is happening. I'm so glad we're so fucking close to finishing this tour. What's about to happen is that I'm packing my shit and I'm finding a hotel tonight. We're gonna finish this tour and when it's over, you can all go and fuck yourselves. I'm done."
________________________________________________
Tuesday. 1:32pm. Hotel.
I can't even begin to describe my mood right now. I just can't. What I want is to talk to HER. What I need is to talk to HER. She's the only one I can talk to, she's the only one who knows what's going on.
I decide to call her from the landline, charging the calls to my room. If she gets charged for my calls, I'll pay for it, I don't care. Except that she's not answering. I've called and called and called and she's not answering. I've left voicemails. Nothing. I've emailed her with no response.
I need her. Why isn't she answering me?
Frantically, I go through my luggage. Every single bit of it. Maybe they're right. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I've finally gone off the deep end. Maybe I AM taking random pills. Maybe I'm on drugs. I almost wish they had found drugs instead of my cell phone, honestly.
But there are no pills. Not a single pill or pill bottle anywhere in my luggage. Not even cigarettes. There wouldn't be anyway, but I haven't smoked in years and I could actually really use one right now.
I pace the room in thought. The worst thing they found was a text conversation. And the conversation wasn't even really bad. I'd read over it a million times after I checked into this room. They're accusing me of taking drugs. They're basically accusing me of being a shitty human being. But why? Why in the hell are they targeting me all of a sudden? No matter how much I rack my brain, I just can't come up with an explanation for that one.
WHY is my family so against me all of a sudden?
__________________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:46pm. Nothing.
I haven't heard a word. Well, she hasn't emailed me, anyway. I don't expect her to call. Actually it would have been nice if she had tried my cell anyway, but she hasn't. What the fuck could she possibly be doing?
I go through all the motions. Even if I wanted to sleep, I can't. I check the app and find nothing. I check Twitter and there's nothing. I check Facebook and Instagram. Nothing and nothing. I check them over and over and over. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Nothing.
I send her another email. Maybe if I make the subject line flashier she may not ignore it. She has to know this is urgent. She has to know that I need her. That I can't deal with this without her.
I call again. Twice. Once from my cell phone and once from the hotel phone. I leave messages both times, begging her to check her email. Letting her know that I need her. Begging her to please get back with me.
I don't know what else I can do.
______________________________________________________
Wednesday. 8:12am. Back to the bus.
The last place I want to be is on a tour bus full of traitors, but I don't really have a choice. We have a five-hour drive ahead of us to the next city with barely enough time to set up before the walk and sound check before the show. It's going to be a strenuous night and I am not looking forward to it.
I don't say a word to Ike or Zac or my father unless absolutely necessary. And I make extra sure it isn't absolutely necessary. My head stays in my phone. I still haven't heard from her. I check all my social media. I check my email. I send her another one. I've even given in and texted her. I have nobody right now. I need her. Why doesn't she understand that?
___________________________________________________________
Thursday. 1:31am. Bunk.
Tonight's show was terrible. It was almost guaranteed to be. And the shows to follow probably won't be much better. I feel bad for the fans, but it's hard to fake chemistry when you no longer want anything to do with your brothers, who also happen to be your band mates.
I'm exhausted. My mind has gone a mile a minute and I'm completely stressed out. I'm restless. I used up my over-the-counter sleep aides a long time ago. My cell phone doesn't help. She still hasn't contacted me. It's been, what, almost two days since we last spoke over email? Well, it'll be two days in mere hours. But still. I know I told her I would call when we left Canada, but how could she see me not calling? Does she just talk to me and then think she can ignore her phone until she thinks she's going to hear from me again? Who does this? She must be doing this on purpose. I've blown up her phone. I've called and I've texted and I've emailed. There is absolutely no reason how she can go this long without being aware that I need her. No way at all. Unless...
What if they already got to her? Zac or Ike or my father? What if, before they confronted me, they already spoke to her? Though I don't see how that would be possible, seeing as she was emailing me when they supposedly had their grubby hands all over my phone. Wouldn't she have said something if *I* was calling her in the moment? It had to have happened in the time after I left
Starbucks. It had to. It was them. They did it. They threatened her and now she won't return any of my messages. I need her. How could they do this to me?
Tuesday. 11:17am. Starbucks.
Today we have a day off. Thank god. Not that I'm not enjoying playing. I am. I always do. It's just that I've had that email on my mind since I opened it but I haven't had sufficient enough time to think up a response to it.
So here I sit in Starbucks. I always manage to find a Starbucks wherever I go. If I could plan all of our tour locations around which cities had a Starbucks close to the venue, I totally would. But alas, it doesn't always work out that way, so I take the luxuries as I get them.
As it happens, Starbucks is the only place where I can have peace of mind right now, despite how busy it is with its usual Canadian customers. I don't mind them and most of them don't know me, so it works out in my favor, ultimately. I just need a bit to be away from what's familiar. To be away from TOUR.
I brought my laptop. I normally don't, but I've decided that I don't really want to sit here and type out my email over my phone. I'm still not sure exactly what to say to her, but I do know I'm not in the mood to sugarcoat it. She never did strike me as the type of person who does much sugarcoating, or does much tolerating of it, either. I mean, hell, you saw her email to me! So I choose to be
frank right back at her:
"I'm an asshole. I get it. I didn't mean to be an asshole, again, but you caught me off guard. I appreciate your concern for me and I'm touched that you care, but honestly, I haven't even had any headaches since the last time we saw each other. I really think you just caught me at a freak moment. But I think maybe you were right in the first place. Maybe we shouldn't get too personal. I mean, we can get personal without getting too personal. You know? Except that I don't really know how to not get too personal with you because I want to know everything there is to know about you. You fascinate me. And I know that's not fair because you should be able to get to know me, too. So with that being said, I'm willing to let this little exchange be water under the bridge and try to take it easy like you suggested. Our friendship should be light. And fun. Not weird or emotionally heavy. Then we'd be defeating our purpose, right? Consider me waving the white flag, once and for all. I'll call you once we get out of Canada."
And SEND.
Waving the white flag? Is that what I said? Did I just surrender the rights to my own fantasy?
Is this even considered a fantasy anymore?
__________________________________________
Tuesday. 11:30am. Response.
I'm kind of surprised to get a response so quickly. I find my heart racing once again as I open my email.
"I won't lie. I'm a little confused. But I'm choosing to take what I can get here. I accept your white flag and agree to let bygones be bygones. I'd like to start fresh. Please do call me when you get back in the US. Believe it or not, I might kinda miss you. A little. Don't read too much into it. ;) "
I'm a little over the moon right now. I shouldn't allow myself to be, but I can't help it. I'm relieved that we're okay. I'm relieved we were able to resolve our issue--well, my issue. I'm relieved that she's so easy to talk to and work with and--and, well, she misses me! That right there is just unbelievable.
With an elated smile, I pack up my laptop and leave Starbucks.
____________________________________________
Tuesday. 11:55am. Carelessness has a price.
Everything is right with the world when I make it back to where our bus is parked. There was a reason why we didn't get a hotel for our day off. I don't remember what it was and it's really a non-issue anyway. A bed's a bed as far as I'm concerned.
When I board the bus, all eyes are on me. It's eerily silent and even my father is present. Andrew, Demetrius, and our driver all make their way to the back of the bus. It's at this moment that I realize that something is terribly wrong and panic quickly begins to rise within me.
I look in the three pairs of eyes staring back at me: Ike's, Zac's, and my father's. "What's going on?" I ask. I begin to silently pray. I pray for my wife, each one of my children, my mother, every one of my siblings. I move on to aunts and uncles when I see my cell phone.
In Ike's hand.
Normally I would panic at such a sight but I've been careful to delete all my conversations with HER so I have nothing to hide. It's actually more of an annoyance that he has ahold of it in the first place. Was it too hard to just leave it laying where he found it?
"Son, I think it's time we finally had a chat. Just us guys," my father says, motioning me to sit down.
My father can be an intimidating figure sometimes and this time just happens to be one of those times. Without question, I take the seat closest to me, never taking my eyes off of him. He hold his hand out to Ike and Ike hands him my cell phone. What is going on here?
"Is there something you think you might need to get off your chest?" my father asks. "I mean, once and for all, get it all out in the open?"
I look at him, and then over at Ike and then Zac. All eyes are on me, waiting for me to answer. "Uh, for one thing, I know I'm a 30-year-old grown man and I kinda don't appreciate being treated like a child. Which, quite honestly, is something I'm noticing is happening more and more frequently lately. So maybe I'm the one that should be asking you guys the questions, instead of the other way around."
"I'd advise you to watch your tone with me," my father says.
"And I'd advise you to remember that I'm an adult," I snap back.
"Okay, okay," Ike jumps in. "Maybe this approach is wrong. Tay--Tay, you've just been acting really weird lately. I mean, just bizarre. I don't get it, Zac doesn't get it, Dad doesn't get it. We've all tried expressing our concern for you but all you do is blow us off."
"I don't know what problem you guys think I'm supposed to have. I mean, I can make one up, right here on the spot. You gotta give me a little something to work with, though. Give me some direction. I don't do vague." I'm getting increasingly agitated. I hate being backed into a corner for no apparent reason. I wish they would just get to the damn point already. "As a matter of fact," I continue. "Why don't YOU tell me what YOU think my problem is. Since you're so convinced that I have one."
"We know what your problem is," my dad says as he tosses me my phone. "I was just giving you the opportunity to say it yourself."
I look down at my phone and light up the screen. Right there in front of me is the last text conversation I had with HER. Every single word. How in the hell had I not deleted it??
_____________________________________________
Tuesday. 12:09pm. Infuriated.
I feel my ears start to burn. That's how hot my blood is boiling right now. How dare they? How DARE they? "What in the hell gives any of you the right to just randomly go through my phone? Don't you guys know the definition of invasion of privacy? What goes on in my phone is NONE of your business! Any of you!"
"Except that it's not just in your phone," Ike said. "Which, even if it was, still wouldn't make it right. And as far as invasion of privacy? When were you thinking about invasion of privacy when you stole all of our bus keys the night you locked me out of the bus?"
"I didn't steal any bus keys!" I'm lying through my teeth but I don't care. How dare they? "I told you, I locked the door so I could have privacy because my wife and I--"
"I saw you take the girl on the bus," Zac finally butts in.
And now I'm at a loss for words. Momentarily. Through my teeth, I say to Zac, "I don't know what you THINK you saw that night, but regardless of what mistake your eyes made, that doesn't give any of you ANY right to go through my phone."
"Come on, Tay," my dad bellows. "We could smell her perfume all over the seat here!"
She actually wasn't wearing perfume that night, it was her hair. But I wouldn't dare open my mouth to correct them.
"Your notification alerts kept going off, loudly, and I had to follow the sound of your phone to turn it off. That's when I saw the texts," Ike says calmly.
"So you decide to pass my phone around for sport?" I'm livid. Completely livid.
"It wasn't for sport--"
"You can't give me any excuse to make this okay," I continue. "Whatever goes on in MY personal life is just that. My PERSONAL life. It's not any of your business. Not ANY of it!"
"That night at the hotel," Zac said. "And your outburst last week--"
"Zac, stop trying to play detective," I sneer at him. "This conversation is over. In fact, it should have never even started."
"It needs to happen before Natalie finds out," my father says.
I stand up to slide my phone into my pocket. "What, is that a threat? Cause she's not gonna find out. Who's gonna tell her? You think she hasn't had any little trysts of her own?"
"Has she?" Zac asks.
"If she had, would it be any of your business?"
"Is this the same girl you gave your number to that night? That fan?" my father asks.
"It's not anyone because there's nothing going on. I'm allowed to have friends."
"Tay, this whole thing--it's not even the point. I mean it's part of it, but--"
I cut Ike off. "Gee, I can't wait to hear this one."
Ignoring my sarcasm, he continues, "The point is, whatever is or isn't going on, it's changing you. And it's not good."
"Changing me? Nothing's changing me. I'm exactly the same person I've always been."
"You're really not. You're constantly defensive, possessive--"
"Defensive and possessive? You stole my fucking phone! What do you expect? You ask where I'm going and who I'm talking to 24/7! You treat me like a fucking child!"
"You're angry all the time, you have random outbursts, you're popping random pills, and you seem to be closing yourself off to everyone, more and more frequently," Ike finshes.
"Popping random pills?? You guys GAVE me those pills! Practically forced them down my throat! And to this day I STILL don't know whose they are or WHAT they are! As a matter of fact, where are they now?"
"Tay, what are you talking about?" Zac asked. "None of us ever gave you any pills. Nobody on this bus is even taking anything."
I look at Zac in disbelief. Then I look at Ike. Hard, into his eyes. How in the fuck are they sitting here, bold-faced lying to me like this? To my face? Hell, if it weren't for Zac forcing me to take that pill with me last week, my head would have likely exploded, and now they're denying it ever happened?? "Are you fucking using me as a scapegoat for your own drug problem?" I ask Zac in disbelief.
"Excuse me?" Zac asks.
"That pill you made me take with me last week. You GAVE it to me. YOU did. YOU told me to take it! And now you're just gonna act like I'm the one who's lying? You're fucking unbelievable! You and Ike both!"
My father takes a hard look at my brothers. "Zac. Is this true?"
Zac simply shrugs and shakes his head.
"You know what? Fuck all of you. Seriously, this entire thing is so fucked up. I can't even believe this is happening. I'm so glad we're so fucking close to finishing this tour. What's about to happen is that I'm packing my shit and I'm finding a hotel tonight. We're gonna finish this tour and when it's over, you can all go and fuck yourselves. I'm done."
________________________________________________
Tuesday. 1:32pm. Hotel.
I can't even begin to describe my mood right now. I just can't. What I want is to talk to HER. What I need is to talk to HER. She's the only one I can talk to, she's the only one who knows what's going on.
I decide to call her from the landline, charging the calls to my room. If she gets charged for my calls, I'll pay for it, I don't care. Except that she's not answering. I've called and called and called and she's not answering. I've left voicemails. Nothing. I've emailed her with no response.
I need her. Why isn't she answering me?
Frantically, I go through my luggage. Every single bit of it. Maybe they're right. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I've finally gone off the deep end. Maybe I AM taking random pills. Maybe I'm on drugs. I almost wish they had found drugs instead of my cell phone, honestly.
But there are no pills. Not a single pill or pill bottle anywhere in my luggage. Not even cigarettes. There wouldn't be anyway, but I haven't smoked in years and I could actually really use one right now.
I pace the room in thought. The worst thing they found was a text conversation. And the conversation wasn't even really bad. I'd read over it a million times after I checked into this room. They're accusing me of taking drugs. They're basically accusing me of being a shitty human being. But why? Why in the hell are they targeting me all of a sudden? No matter how much I rack my brain, I just can't come up with an explanation for that one.
WHY is my family so against me all of a sudden?
__________________________________________________________
Tuesday. 10:46pm. Nothing.
I haven't heard a word. Well, she hasn't emailed me, anyway. I don't expect her to call. Actually it would have been nice if she had tried my cell anyway, but she hasn't. What the fuck could she possibly be doing?
I go through all the motions. Even if I wanted to sleep, I can't. I check the app and find nothing. I check Twitter and there's nothing. I check Facebook and Instagram. Nothing and nothing. I check them over and over and over. Refresh, refresh, refresh. Nothing.
I send her another email. Maybe if I make the subject line flashier she may not ignore it. She has to know this is urgent. She has to know that I need her. That I can't deal with this without her.
I call again. Twice. Once from my cell phone and once from the hotel phone. I leave messages both times, begging her to check her email. Letting her know that I need her. Begging her to please get back with me.
I don't know what else I can do.
______________________________________________________
Wednesday. 8:12am. Back to the bus.
The last place I want to be is on a tour bus full of traitors, but I don't really have a choice. We have a five-hour drive ahead of us to the next city with barely enough time to set up before the walk and sound check before the show. It's going to be a strenuous night and I am not looking forward to it.
I don't say a word to Ike or Zac or my father unless absolutely necessary. And I make extra sure it isn't absolutely necessary. My head stays in my phone. I still haven't heard from her. I check all my social media. I check my email. I send her another one. I've even given in and texted her. I have nobody right now. I need her. Why doesn't she understand that?
___________________________________________________________
Thursday. 1:31am. Bunk.
Tonight's show was terrible. It was almost guaranteed to be. And the shows to follow probably won't be much better. I feel bad for the fans, but it's hard to fake chemistry when you no longer want anything to do with your brothers, who also happen to be your band mates.
I'm exhausted. My mind has gone a mile a minute and I'm completely stressed out. I'm restless. I used up my over-the-counter sleep aides a long time ago. My cell phone doesn't help. She still hasn't contacted me. It's been, what, almost two days since we last spoke over email? Well, it'll be two days in mere hours. But still. I know I told her I would call when we left Canada, but how could she see me not calling? Does she just talk to me and then think she can ignore her phone until she thinks she's going to hear from me again? Who does this? She must be doing this on purpose. I've blown up her phone. I've called and I've texted and I've emailed. There is absolutely no reason how she can go this long without being aware that I need her. No way at all. Unless...
What if they already got to her? Zac or Ike or my father? What if, before they confronted me, they already spoke to her? Though I don't see how that would be possible, seeing as she was emailing me when they supposedly had their grubby hands all over my phone. Wouldn't she have said something if *I* was calling her in the moment? It had to have happened in the time after I left
Starbucks. It had to. It was them. They did it. They threatened her and now she won't return any of my messages. I need her. How could they do this to me?