SEVEN
Monday. 2:05am. Bunk.
I lay in my bunk, recapping the day. We had a day off today but our show is in this city tomorrow. Or tonight. Depending on how you look at it.
I'm kind of pissed off that we had a day off and had to leave the last city as fast as we did. If we had stayed that night...slept in a hotel...then maybe it would be the same hotel...nah! What are the chances of that, anyway?
My wife Skyped me today. It was a welcome call and I was happy to see her, but--this time I was distracted. And she could tell. I surprised myself at being distracted while talking to her. That had never happened before. Well, not a distraction like this, anyway. She assumed it was the tour and I just went along with it. I'm supposed to feel guilty about this. I know I am. But I don't. I don't feel guilty because this is mine. It's my secret. It's something I have especially for me, and nobody else. And it's not like it's serious. It's having absolutely no interference with my home life whatsoever.
It took most of the day to convince myself of this. So far I've been successful.
But now I wait. Should I be waiting? I had asked HER about texting again tonight but I didn't specify who would text who. Is that juvenile to think of? Actually, I think I said I would text her. I don't remember, but I'm feeling bold, so I go ahead and take the
plunge. I send to her, "Are you awake?"
_____________________________________________________
Monday. 3:00am. Still awake.
Why am *I* awake? Is this normal? Is it healthy? The fact that I've waited on a text for an hour that never came? I stayed awake for this long, waiting for a response? Is this the modern day version of waiting by the phone?
I decide immediately that it is and I feel like an idiot over it. It's embarrassing, even though nobody is awake to witness how big of a loser I am. I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off at HER for not texting back and I'm pissed off at HER for making me feel like a fool. She never intended to text me tonight. I should have known it last night when she was being so vague. When I had to talk her into texting tonight. I looked forward to this all day and I should have known.
I'm such a fucking sap.
___________________________________________________
Wednesday. 1:12am. Common area of the bus.
There's really no point in going straight to my bunk right now. Tonight was an awesome show and everyone is wired. So I've found myself a corner in the common area with my laptop while Zac and Andrew play video games and while Ike and Demetrius drink beer and play cards. Dad has already gone to bed and I envy him, but that truth is I'm pretty wired myself.
I hook up my laptop and open it up and while I wait on it to boot up, I check the app wall from my phone. I know what I'm searching for. I've searched for it for the past two days. This girl has yet another pointless point to make. This girl has posted a picture of herself with Zac. This girl has posted some of our song lyrics. But where is MY girl? Where has she been? She's one of the regulars. Has been since day one of the app. I know this because that's how long I've been following her. Where is she NOW?
I head on over to Twitter, which is the next best thing. Nothing from her there, either. I've taken to keeping track of her friends lately. I know who they are. I found them on the app when I recognized her with them from the shows. I also cruise their Twitter accounts to see if they've tweeted her or anything. They have, but there's been no response. My frustration is reaching its limit.
I head on over to Instagram. I know I'm grasping with that one since that's the one she uses the least but it's worth a shot. Of course there's nothing. Why would there be?
When my laptop is ready, I waste no time going to her Facebook page. There, I find nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a single post, not a "like," nothing. I even cruise her friends' pages, too, but I turn up nothing. I could send her a private message. Well, actually, I can't, because I share this Facebook page with my brothers. I'd never know when she would message me back and if Ike or Zac saw, I'd be screwed. So I can't. I can't send her personal Facebook messages or Twitter messages or messages on the app. I can't tag
her in any pictures on Instagram. I can't personally contact her at all.
Well. I COULD personally email her from my non-publicized email account. It would be a waste, though. If she's not on her social media, she's certainly not checking her email. No, the only thing I can do is text her and she's not texting back, so...
Yes, yes, I admit it. Fine, okay? I texted her more than once since the other night. I may have texted her at least five times in the past two days? Okay, FINE!! I may have texted her more than ten. But she isn't answering me so what the hell else am I supposed to do??
"Tay!" I look up at the sound of my name to see Zac trying to get my attention. "What's wrong with you?"
He's caught me off guard. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Are you okay? You look like something pissed you off."
I feel my blood begin to boil in embarrassment. I had no idea I was even wearing any expression at all. "Uh, do I? I must just be
concentrating. I'm fine, though. Really."
Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, Zac slowly turns back to his video game. "Okay..."
Shit. I can't be out here anymore. But I don't want to go to bed, either. I'll be alone in my bunk, wide awake, with nothing to do. She isn't going to text me back and she isn't going to post on any of her social media. This is ridiculous.
Defeated, I turn to Ike and Demetrius. "Ike, pass me a beer, will you?"
Ike obliges me and I plug in my ear buds and prop up my feet in the seat in front of me. I turn on a movie on my laptop and sit back, relaxed, nursing my beer.
______________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:39am. Hotel room.
When you're on tour, you learn to appreciate the small luxuries in life. One of them being in your own hotel room, after a day
off, when you have no city to be at the next day. Granted, tomorrow (or today, again, depending on how you look at it) is solely a driving day because we have a long way to go, we can afford to sleep an hour or two later than normal. We can afford a little extra relaxation without the hustle and bustle of having to be in the next city in less than ten hours.
In my room, alone, I talked to my wife on the phone for awhile earlier. I talked to each of my kids. It made my day, honestly. I wish they could all meet me here since we have a little extra time to work with but with all the time we're about to have to be on the road,
it's not convenient for one woman, traveling with five children.
Earlier today we did some promo on a local news station here. We played a show the previous night and afterward we were asked to come on the local news. After that, we were invited to be on a local afternoon radio show. After that, we all went our separate ways to enjoy a little peace and quiet alone. Sometimes you need that.
After talking to my wife and kids, I took a long, hot, much-appreciated shower and ordered room service. I ate, watched a movie, answered some business emails, and now here I lay, in my bed, alone, in the dark.
It always ends up this way.
I still haven't heard from her. It's been a week. A week and she hasn't texted me or posted on the app or any of her social media accounts. It's like she's disappeared off the face of the earth. I don't understand it. Should I be concerned?
I should have used this to my advantage. After all, out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. I should have allowed this to wean me off of the addiction I so obviously have but, instead, it seems to have fed the addiction. I can't stay away. I can't stay away from the app or Twitter or Instagram or Facebook, or even Hanson.net. I've looked at every single outlet I could possibly look at, several times per day, to no avail. I have to KNOW now. I have to know. I have to know why she doesn't watch. Why she doesn't wait. Why she doesn't depend on me. It's making me crazy.
I've watched all the TV I can watch and I've surfed all the internet I can surf. I put my laptop on the bed beside me and I put my phone on the bedside table and turn off the lamp.
For half an hour I've been completely comfortable when my phone vibrates on the table beside me. My eyes shoot open and my
heart begins to pound as I wonder who in the world that might be, texting me. Deep down, I know who it is. And now part of me is afraid to check it.
Finally, I retrieve my phone and I check the message. I'm right. It's HER. But it isn't a text. It's a picture message...
I open the message and my breathing comes to a complete stop. All my energy drains straight to my dick, which is using every ounce of energy I possess to grow rock hard at this very moment. She has sent me a picture of herself. In the mirror. Completely naked.
I don't hear from her for a week. An entire week. And the first form of communication she sends me is a nude picture of herself.
I have no idea what to do right now. I know what I WANT to do. But I only have one hand available and jerking off and typing at the same time is not an option. My dick throbs and my heart pounds as my eyes slowly move over the picture. She has a slight hour-glass figure, small chest, slightly widened hips...her skin has a light tan and she's holding her wild, dark, hair on top of her head. She's looking down at her camera so I can't see her eyes. And she's standing up so I can't see every inch of her that I WANT to see. She has taken the picture in the mirror of a very generic bathroom. It looks familiar, but who the hell is taking the time to look at the damn bathroom?
Sometimes I wonder about myself.
My hand travels to the seam of my pants when another message follows, this time a text. "You better not be jerking off right now."
I bite my lip and I swear I'm breaking into a cold sweat. "What if I am?" I text back. I'm nearly desperate. I want to do it so bad...
"I said you better not be," she texts back. "You better save it for me."
A smile spreads across my face. "Are you suggesting we Skype?"
"I don't Skype."
"I'll send a picture," I volunteer.
"Pictures do me no good."
"Then, dammit, woman, what do you want?"
She sends me a smiley face. "Your desperation is cute. Are you desperate? How desperate are you?"
I glance down at myself in the dark. I can't see it, but I feel it. "Embarrassingly," I text back.
"Don't you dare jerk off," she texts me back.
"This isn't fair."
"It's plenty fair."
"How could it possibly be fair?"
"Because I don't want you to get yourself off. I want to try my hand at it. ;) "
How does that breathing thing work again? Oh yeah. In, out, in, out...
"I'm calling you," I text her.
I prepare to hit the button when she texts back. "No need. Just come find me."
Annoyed with her games now, I sneer into the phone. "WTF are you talking about?"
"Just what I said. Come find me. I'm in room 342."
I feel my eyes widen at the screen. "You're in my hotel? How do you know where I am?"
"Why are you wasting time?"
Taking a moment for what's transpiring to register, I throw the covers off me with vigor, turn on the lamp and scramble around the room to find clothes. My hard-on won't go away and I can't get dressed with it there, raging. She wants me ready when I get to her door. This is impossible. She's fucking with me...
I text her back. "Is this a joke?"
"I don't joke when I'm horny."
"I can't get dressed right now."
"Aww...is your dick in the way? Who needs clothes anyway?"
"I can't walk around a hotel naked."
"I sent you that picture in real time. I'm wearing nothing. I'm ready. I can send you another picture as proof if you want. I just want you to be ready when you get to my door. You'll just have to figure it out. But I'm not willing to wait much longer."
Shit! I throw my phone on my bed and look around. She's in this hotel, she's naked, and she wants to have sex. And I can't even leave my goddamn room! I look toward the bathroom and my heart sinks. There's only one thing I can do right now.
I take my clothes off and get in the shower, throwing the cold water on full blast. I clench my teeth hard as the ice water brutalizes my skin. However my dilemma is solved almost instantly and I can't help but be grateful for that.
Quickly, I get out and dry off, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I don't bother with shoes. She's only a floor above me. I sweep some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and brush my teeth in a matter of seconds. I swipe on some deodorant and fix my hair in the mirror as well as I can.
Back in the room, I grab my hotel key and my cell phone, shoving them into my back pocket, and quickly leave, careful to quietly close the door behind me in case anyone else is awake in their rooms who could possibly hear my door close from outside.
Barefooted and nervous, I break into a brand new cold sweat as I board the elevator at the end of the hall.
Monday. 2:05am. Bunk.
I lay in my bunk, recapping the day. We had a day off today but our show is in this city tomorrow. Or tonight. Depending on how you look at it.
I'm kind of pissed off that we had a day off and had to leave the last city as fast as we did. If we had stayed that night...slept in a hotel...then maybe it would be the same hotel...nah! What are the chances of that, anyway?
My wife Skyped me today. It was a welcome call and I was happy to see her, but--this time I was distracted. And she could tell. I surprised myself at being distracted while talking to her. That had never happened before. Well, not a distraction like this, anyway. She assumed it was the tour and I just went along with it. I'm supposed to feel guilty about this. I know I am. But I don't. I don't feel guilty because this is mine. It's my secret. It's something I have especially for me, and nobody else. And it's not like it's serious. It's having absolutely no interference with my home life whatsoever.
It took most of the day to convince myself of this. So far I've been successful.
But now I wait. Should I be waiting? I had asked HER about texting again tonight but I didn't specify who would text who. Is that juvenile to think of? Actually, I think I said I would text her. I don't remember, but I'm feeling bold, so I go ahead and take the
plunge. I send to her, "Are you awake?"
_____________________________________________________
Monday. 3:00am. Still awake.
Why am *I* awake? Is this normal? Is it healthy? The fact that I've waited on a text for an hour that never came? I stayed awake for this long, waiting for a response? Is this the modern day version of waiting by the phone?
I decide immediately that it is and I feel like an idiot over it. It's embarrassing, even though nobody is awake to witness how big of a loser I am. I'm pissed off. I'm pissed off at HER for not texting back and I'm pissed off at HER for making me feel like a fool. She never intended to text me tonight. I should have known it last night when she was being so vague. When I had to talk her into texting tonight. I looked forward to this all day and I should have known.
I'm such a fucking sap.
___________________________________________________
Wednesday. 1:12am. Common area of the bus.
There's really no point in going straight to my bunk right now. Tonight was an awesome show and everyone is wired. So I've found myself a corner in the common area with my laptop while Zac and Andrew play video games and while Ike and Demetrius drink beer and play cards. Dad has already gone to bed and I envy him, but that truth is I'm pretty wired myself.
I hook up my laptop and open it up and while I wait on it to boot up, I check the app wall from my phone. I know what I'm searching for. I've searched for it for the past two days. This girl has yet another pointless point to make. This girl has posted a picture of herself with Zac. This girl has posted some of our song lyrics. But where is MY girl? Where has she been? She's one of the regulars. Has been since day one of the app. I know this because that's how long I've been following her. Where is she NOW?
I head on over to Twitter, which is the next best thing. Nothing from her there, either. I've taken to keeping track of her friends lately. I know who they are. I found them on the app when I recognized her with them from the shows. I also cruise their Twitter accounts to see if they've tweeted her or anything. They have, but there's been no response. My frustration is reaching its limit.
I head on over to Instagram. I know I'm grasping with that one since that's the one she uses the least but it's worth a shot. Of course there's nothing. Why would there be?
When my laptop is ready, I waste no time going to her Facebook page. There, I find nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a single post, not a "like," nothing. I even cruise her friends' pages, too, but I turn up nothing. I could send her a private message. Well, actually, I can't, because I share this Facebook page with my brothers. I'd never know when she would message me back and if Ike or Zac saw, I'd be screwed. So I can't. I can't send her personal Facebook messages or Twitter messages or messages on the app. I can't tag
her in any pictures on Instagram. I can't personally contact her at all.
Well. I COULD personally email her from my non-publicized email account. It would be a waste, though. If she's not on her social media, she's certainly not checking her email. No, the only thing I can do is text her and she's not texting back, so...
Yes, yes, I admit it. Fine, okay? I texted her more than once since the other night. I may have texted her at least five times in the past two days? Okay, FINE!! I may have texted her more than ten. But she isn't answering me so what the hell else am I supposed to do??
"Tay!" I look up at the sound of my name to see Zac trying to get my attention. "What's wrong with you?"
He's caught me off guard. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Are you okay? You look like something pissed you off."
I feel my blood begin to boil in embarrassment. I had no idea I was even wearing any expression at all. "Uh, do I? I must just be
concentrating. I'm fine, though. Really."
Raising an eyebrow in suspicion, Zac slowly turns back to his video game. "Okay..."
Shit. I can't be out here anymore. But I don't want to go to bed, either. I'll be alone in my bunk, wide awake, with nothing to do. She isn't going to text me back and she isn't going to post on any of her social media. This is ridiculous.
Defeated, I turn to Ike and Demetrius. "Ike, pass me a beer, will you?"
Ike obliges me and I plug in my ear buds and prop up my feet in the seat in front of me. I turn on a movie on my laptop and sit back, relaxed, nursing my beer.
______________________________________________________
Saturday. 2:39am. Hotel room.
When you're on tour, you learn to appreciate the small luxuries in life. One of them being in your own hotel room, after a day
off, when you have no city to be at the next day. Granted, tomorrow (or today, again, depending on how you look at it) is solely a driving day because we have a long way to go, we can afford to sleep an hour or two later than normal. We can afford a little extra relaxation without the hustle and bustle of having to be in the next city in less than ten hours.
In my room, alone, I talked to my wife on the phone for awhile earlier. I talked to each of my kids. It made my day, honestly. I wish they could all meet me here since we have a little extra time to work with but with all the time we're about to have to be on the road,
it's not convenient for one woman, traveling with five children.
Earlier today we did some promo on a local news station here. We played a show the previous night and afterward we were asked to come on the local news. After that, we were invited to be on a local afternoon radio show. After that, we all went our separate ways to enjoy a little peace and quiet alone. Sometimes you need that.
After talking to my wife and kids, I took a long, hot, much-appreciated shower and ordered room service. I ate, watched a movie, answered some business emails, and now here I lay, in my bed, alone, in the dark.
It always ends up this way.
I still haven't heard from her. It's been a week. A week and she hasn't texted me or posted on the app or any of her social media accounts. It's like she's disappeared off the face of the earth. I don't understand it. Should I be concerned?
I should have used this to my advantage. After all, out of sight, out of mind, right? Wrong. I should have allowed this to wean me off of the addiction I so obviously have but, instead, it seems to have fed the addiction. I can't stay away. I can't stay away from the app or Twitter or Instagram or Facebook, or even Hanson.net. I've looked at every single outlet I could possibly look at, several times per day, to no avail. I have to KNOW now. I have to know. I have to know why she doesn't watch. Why she doesn't wait. Why she doesn't depend on me. It's making me crazy.
I've watched all the TV I can watch and I've surfed all the internet I can surf. I put my laptop on the bed beside me and I put my phone on the bedside table and turn off the lamp.
For half an hour I've been completely comfortable when my phone vibrates on the table beside me. My eyes shoot open and my
heart begins to pound as I wonder who in the world that might be, texting me. Deep down, I know who it is. And now part of me is afraid to check it.
Finally, I retrieve my phone and I check the message. I'm right. It's HER. But it isn't a text. It's a picture message...
I open the message and my breathing comes to a complete stop. All my energy drains straight to my dick, which is using every ounce of energy I possess to grow rock hard at this very moment. She has sent me a picture of herself. In the mirror. Completely naked.
I don't hear from her for a week. An entire week. And the first form of communication she sends me is a nude picture of herself.
I have no idea what to do right now. I know what I WANT to do. But I only have one hand available and jerking off and typing at the same time is not an option. My dick throbs and my heart pounds as my eyes slowly move over the picture. She has a slight hour-glass figure, small chest, slightly widened hips...her skin has a light tan and she's holding her wild, dark, hair on top of her head. She's looking down at her camera so I can't see her eyes. And she's standing up so I can't see every inch of her that I WANT to see. She has taken the picture in the mirror of a very generic bathroom. It looks familiar, but who the hell is taking the time to look at the damn bathroom?
Sometimes I wonder about myself.
My hand travels to the seam of my pants when another message follows, this time a text. "You better not be jerking off right now."
I bite my lip and I swear I'm breaking into a cold sweat. "What if I am?" I text back. I'm nearly desperate. I want to do it so bad...
"I said you better not be," she texts back. "You better save it for me."
A smile spreads across my face. "Are you suggesting we Skype?"
"I don't Skype."
"I'll send a picture," I volunteer.
"Pictures do me no good."
"Then, dammit, woman, what do you want?"
She sends me a smiley face. "Your desperation is cute. Are you desperate? How desperate are you?"
I glance down at myself in the dark. I can't see it, but I feel it. "Embarrassingly," I text back.
"Don't you dare jerk off," she texts me back.
"This isn't fair."
"It's plenty fair."
"How could it possibly be fair?"
"Because I don't want you to get yourself off. I want to try my hand at it. ;) "
How does that breathing thing work again? Oh yeah. In, out, in, out...
"I'm calling you," I text her.
I prepare to hit the button when she texts back. "No need. Just come find me."
Annoyed with her games now, I sneer into the phone. "WTF are you talking about?"
"Just what I said. Come find me. I'm in room 342."
I feel my eyes widen at the screen. "You're in my hotel? How do you know where I am?"
"Why are you wasting time?"
Taking a moment for what's transpiring to register, I throw the covers off me with vigor, turn on the lamp and scramble around the room to find clothes. My hard-on won't go away and I can't get dressed with it there, raging. She wants me ready when I get to her door. This is impossible. She's fucking with me...
I text her back. "Is this a joke?"
"I don't joke when I'm horny."
"I can't get dressed right now."
"Aww...is your dick in the way? Who needs clothes anyway?"
"I can't walk around a hotel naked."
"I sent you that picture in real time. I'm wearing nothing. I'm ready. I can send you another picture as proof if you want. I just want you to be ready when you get to my door. You'll just have to figure it out. But I'm not willing to wait much longer."
Shit! I throw my phone on my bed and look around. She's in this hotel, she's naked, and she wants to have sex. And I can't even leave my goddamn room! I look toward the bathroom and my heart sinks. There's only one thing I can do right now.
I take my clothes off and get in the shower, throwing the cold water on full blast. I clench my teeth hard as the ice water brutalizes my skin. However my dilemma is solved almost instantly and I can't help but be grateful for that.
Quickly, I get out and dry off, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I don't bother with shoes. She's only a floor above me. I sweep some toothpaste onto my toothbrush and brush my teeth in a matter of seconds. I swipe on some deodorant and fix my hair in the mirror as well as I can.
Back in the room, I grab my hotel key and my cell phone, shoving them into my back pocket, and quickly leave, careful to quietly close the door behind me in case anyone else is awake in their rooms who could possibly hear my door close from outside.
Barefooted and nervous, I break into a brand new cold sweat as I board the elevator at the end of the hall.