SIX
Saturday. 9:50pm. Showtime.
Things dissipated rather quickly after Ike left the bus awhile ago. As promised, I saw her back inside the venue but not before she
thanked me for the beer and walked away with a parting wink. I'm not sure what my response was. I don't even think I waved.
Hypothetically I had imagined that on the unlikely occasion that I would ever get her in the position I had her in, I would lose interest and the fun would be over once, and for all. I thought the thrill of the chase would be gone and it would be back to life as normal.
Is that what it is? Maybe it isn't simply social media. Maybe it isn't even HER. Maybe it's simply the thrill of the chase that's the problem with me.
Except that I have her now. I have her. And the taste I got of her earlier just wasn't enough. It can't be just the chase because, if it was, I would be done with her by now. But I'm not. I want more. I could devour her. I want to devour her. I want every single part of her and I almost feel like there's nothing standing in my way to get to her. It's a scary thought. Well maybe not totally scary, but a little scary. Am I this person? Do I creep around the Internet, spying on a random woman and then sit around and think of different
ways to...
My skin crawls and I shudder as I fight to keep from completing this thought. Right now I need to focus on this show.
In all honesty, I have no idea what to expect when I walk out onstage. However, I don't have time to think about it as the time is now
and I walk out onstage alongside my brothers, amidst the loud screams.
My eyes immediately scan the crowd, habitually searching the same location she stood in last night but she's nowhere to be found. As I assume my position at my keyboard and we start the song, I look out at the crowd and I see HER. She is directly below me, second row-ish, surrounded by her friends.
She smiles at me and I fumble my lyrics. This is going to be a long show.
_____________________________________________________
Sunday. 12:30am. Outside the bus.
The show was great. I honestly don't know how or why. I was prepared for it to be a complete disaster as soon as I saw HER directly in front of me but it turned out to be completely the opposite. The energy on and off the stage was beyond insane.
But now my heart is pounding again as we head outside to greet the fans and I know it's because I don't know what to expect. I have no idea, considering what went on earlier, if she's even still here or not. I hope that she is. But what if she is? It's not like I can do
anything about it. It's not like I can really talk to her the way I want to talk to her. I can't make a move without everyone's eyes on me.
I'm immediately frustrated.
I go down the line, signing and taking pictures. I barely look at the fans I'm communicating with. I'm rushing the process and I know it and I sort of feel bad but I kind of don't care, either. I would never admit this out loud. All I want to do is relax and stretch out in my dark, quiet bunk and--
SHE'S HERE.
I'm not sure why it surprises me but I hear her before I see her and she says, "Hey, can I get a picture?"
I look up and I'm so surprised at her boldness because it's different from last night, regardless of what happened on the bus earlier, that I just stare back at her in silence. I know what to say but the words can't find their way out.
She looks at me weird. Why can't I speak?? "Uh, or not," she says slowly.
My voice finally manages to creak out, "Um--"
"Never mind, it's okay. You're busy."
I'm confused. I'm so goddamn confused I don't even know what to do with myself right now. Is she serious? Is she mad? Is it seriously okay? What's okay? Why wouldn't it be okay?
Well it might be okay with her but it certainly isn't okay with me the way she's lowering her camera and taking a step backward. What do I do? What do I do? How do I do this gracefully?
Finally I find my bearings. I smile and wave her back. "No, it's okay. I have time."
Now it's her turn to hesitate but she gives in and gives one of her friends her camera. She leans in close to me and I instantly know that this wasn't such a smart idea. After having her underneath me in the dark earlier, merely feeling her body heat is enough to piss me off. I put my arm around her, dying to touch every inch of her body once again. Barely holding it together, I smile for the camera, and the second it takes to flash feels like an eternity.
Once the picture is taken I realize there's nothing left to do but move on and leave her. I certainly don't know when I'll see her again. She doesn't seem like the type who will be at every single show. I have a feeling I got lucky that she showed up at this one.
Fighting for one last means of communication, I say to her, "Do you have anything you want me to sign?"
Here comes there deer-in-headlights look again. I've seriously got to find out of if that's really an act or not. "Uh, no..." she says. She's not lying. She doesn't even have a purse on her.
I feel myself raising my eyebrows. "You're SURE you don't have anything you want me to sign?"
It takes her another second before I practically see the light bulb light up above her head. "Oh! Yeah, actually I do. Thanks."
She fishes her ticket stub from her back pocket and hands it to me. As inconspicuously as I can, I scrawl across it, "Text
me," and I hand it back to her.
Once again, I can't believe I just did that.
______________________________________________________________
Sunday. 2:43am. Bunk.
I've been laying here for 45 minutes. 45 whole minutes and I've gotten nothing from her. I don't understand it. I thought we hit it
off. Did I make her mad? Why do I even care?
I go through my routine. The app wall turns up nothing. Twitter, nothing. Facebook, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Should I text
her? Would that be weird? After all, I wrote, "Text me" not "I'll text you." But why couldn't I text her? I didn't see any reason I
couldn't.
As I battle within myself, a battle that should not even be going on, my text alert goes off. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest.
It's HER. "So...I'm texting you," she says.
"Are you mad?" I text back.
"No. What do I have to be mad about?"
"I don't know, you seemed mad earlier."
"Well I wasn't."
"Good. I apologize for how that happened."
"It's okay."
I pause and stare at my phone. I am so frustrated at myself that I can't think of anything to say. So I go for broke. "So what did you think of the beer?"
"Seriously? It's taking you this long to ask about the beer?"
"Well I kinda never had the opportunity before."
"You always have the opportunity."
This comment floors me. What do I do with it? Does it have a double entendre? It sounds more like an invitation. I find myself
smiling. I could take this conversation wherever I wanted it to go. Did I want to take it in the direction the little devil on my shoulder is begging me for?
I bite the bullet. "Opportunity for what?" I bite my lip and smile in anticipation of her response. I feel like a naïve teenager.
She wastes no time. "Opportunity to ask me what I think of other things besides beer."
My smile is hurting my cheeks. "As in?"
"Don't be coy."
My excitement is quickly taking over my body. I don't have to take this conversation where I want it. She's doing it for me. "What can I say? Ike showed up."
"Shame."
"What if he hadn't?"
"You know..."
"Now you're being coy."
"So what if I am?"
"You just told me not to be coy."
"That still stands."
"But you can be coy..."
"I can do anything I want."
My breath catches and I'm not sure what to say next. So I throw something out there. "Within reason, I'm sure."
"No...I can pretty much do whatever I want."
"What does that mean?"
"I need to sleep."
"What?"
"Did that last text not go through?"
"It came through. It was just random."
"Yeah. Exhaustion suddenly hit me."
"Where are you?"
"Why does that matter? You're not near me."
"So?"
"In a hotel."
"With your boyfriend?"
"If I were, would I be texting you?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Either way. Doesn't matter. You're miles away from me now."
"Shame."
"I agree."
My heart sinks. She's ending the conversation. This disappoints me and I'm so fucking wired right now I can't even think of sleep. She's driving me insane.
"Can I text you again?" I ask.
"Why?"
This response catches me off guard and I'm not sure how to take it. Confused, I text, "Why not?"
"Why me?"
"Why not?"
"Touche."
"I'm not sure you used that word correctly right there..."
"I don't really care."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Can I text you again?"
"You can..."
"Better yet, if I text you again, will you respond?"
"Maybe."
"Just maybe?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Don't know yet."
"You're killing me."
"The feeling is mutual."
"So let me text you again."
"Why?"
"Because I WANT to." My heart is pounding. I'm not sure if it's out of excitement of frustration at this point. Part of me thinks it's fear. But what is it that I'm afraid of?
It's a couple of moments before she texts me back. "Is this you doing whatever you want?"
"I think so, yeah..."
"Fine."
"Is that a yes?"
"Did it look like one?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then."
"This time tomorrow night?"
"We'll see."
GODDAMMIT!!! She's killing me. Literally killing me. But the thrill. It's coming back. The thrill, the chase, the adrenaline. It's all here. Right now. I'm not ready to stop texting her yet but I should quit while I'm ahead. That's the smart thing to do.
"Okay. If I text you and you don't respond, what will that mean?"
"That I didn't hear my phone? I don't sleep with my phone."
"You're in bed with it now."
"How do you know I'm in bed?"
"Because I am."
"So just because you're in bed, that means I'm in bed?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because we're the same."
"That's an awfully loaded thing to say to someone you don't even know."
"Am I wrong?"
"Not this time..."
"What's my prize?"
"For what?"
"For winning this round."
"What do you want?"
"Now THAT is a loaded question."
"I asked it."
"I want to text you again tomorrow night."
"Why do you want to so badly?"
"Because I didn't get what I wanted earlier."
"What did you want?"
"The same thing you wanted."
"And texting will fix that?"
"Texting merely puts a Band-Aid on it. It's a quick fix."
"And what happens if we don't text?"
"Then I go back to stalking you online again."
"Won't you just do that anyway?"
"Probably."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"It's not enough."
"Oh really?"
"Not anymore."
It's another couple of minutes before she texts again and in that time, I worry. Have I said too much? Have I scared her off?
Grossed her out? Has she fallen asleep? She did say she had to go and I kept her talking...
Finally she texts back. "You're lucky I find you so damn sexy. Unfortunately, I do have to go for now. I can't hold my eyes open. Next time, okay?"
"Yes. Next time," I text in agreement. I'll settle for that. She thinks I'm sexy and the fact that she outright said it directly to me is
enough to get me through the night.
I don't know why I'm suddenly giddy like an adolescent boy but I love the way it feels and then I feel the exhaustion wash over me out of nowhere. I feel like I can sleep now. I'm happy and I can sleep.
And then I think about it. It's getting real. More and more real by the second. Why am I not feeling any guilt right now?
Saturday. 9:50pm. Showtime.
Things dissipated rather quickly after Ike left the bus awhile ago. As promised, I saw her back inside the venue but not before she
thanked me for the beer and walked away with a parting wink. I'm not sure what my response was. I don't even think I waved.
Hypothetically I had imagined that on the unlikely occasion that I would ever get her in the position I had her in, I would lose interest and the fun would be over once, and for all. I thought the thrill of the chase would be gone and it would be back to life as normal.
Is that what it is? Maybe it isn't simply social media. Maybe it isn't even HER. Maybe it's simply the thrill of the chase that's the problem with me.
Except that I have her now. I have her. And the taste I got of her earlier just wasn't enough. It can't be just the chase because, if it was, I would be done with her by now. But I'm not. I want more. I could devour her. I want to devour her. I want every single part of her and I almost feel like there's nothing standing in my way to get to her. It's a scary thought. Well maybe not totally scary, but a little scary. Am I this person? Do I creep around the Internet, spying on a random woman and then sit around and think of different
ways to...
My skin crawls and I shudder as I fight to keep from completing this thought. Right now I need to focus on this show.
In all honesty, I have no idea what to expect when I walk out onstage. However, I don't have time to think about it as the time is now
and I walk out onstage alongside my brothers, amidst the loud screams.
My eyes immediately scan the crowd, habitually searching the same location she stood in last night but she's nowhere to be found. As I assume my position at my keyboard and we start the song, I look out at the crowd and I see HER. She is directly below me, second row-ish, surrounded by her friends.
She smiles at me and I fumble my lyrics. This is going to be a long show.
_____________________________________________________
Sunday. 12:30am. Outside the bus.
The show was great. I honestly don't know how or why. I was prepared for it to be a complete disaster as soon as I saw HER directly in front of me but it turned out to be completely the opposite. The energy on and off the stage was beyond insane.
But now my heart is pounding again as we head outside to greet the fans and I know it's because I don't know what to expect. I have no idea, considering what went on earlier, if she's even still here or not. I hope that she is. But what if she is? It's not like I can do
anything about it. It's not like I can really talk to her the way I want to talk to her. I can't make a move without everyone's eyes on me.
I'm immediately frustrated.
I go down the line, signing and taking pictures. I barely look at the fans I'm communicating with. I'm rushing the process and I know it and I sort of feel bad but I kind of don't care, either. I would never admit this out loud. All I want to do is relax and stretch out in my dark, quiet bunk and--
SHE'S HERE.
I'm not sure why it surprises me but I hear her before I see her and she says, "Hey, can I get a picture?"
I look up and I'm so surprised at her boldness because it's different from last night, regardless of what happened on the bus earlier, that I just stare back at her in silence. I know what to say but the words can't find their way out.
She looks at me weird. Why can't I speak?? "Uh, or not," she says slowly.
My voice finally manages to creak out, "Um--"
"Never mind, it's okay. You're busy."
I'm confused. I'm so goddamn confused I don't even know what to do with myself right now. Is she serious? Is she mad? Is it seriously okay? What's okay? Why wouldn't it be okay?
Well it might be okay with her but it certainly isn't okay with me the way she's lowering her camera and taking a step backward. What do I do? What do I do? How do I do this gracefully?
Finally I find my bearings. I smile and wave her back. "No, it's okay. I have time."
Now it's her turn to hesitate but she gives in and gives one of her friends her camera. She leans in close to me and I instantly know that this wasn't such a smart idea. After having her underneath me in the dark earlier, merely feeling her body heat is enough to piss me off. I put my arm around her, dying to touch every inch of her body once again. Barely holding it together, I smile for the camera, and the second it takes to flash feels like an eternity.
Once the picture is taken I realize there's nothing left to do but move on and leave her. I certainly don't know when I'll see her again. She doesn't seem like the type who will be at every single show. I have a feeling I got lucky that she showed up at this one.
Fighting for one last means of communication, I say to her, "Do you have anything you want me to sign?"
Here comes there deer-in-headlights look again. I've seriously got to find out of if that's really an act or not. "Uh, no..." she says. She's not lying. She doesn't even have a purse on her.
I feel myself raising my eyebrows. "You're SURE you don't have anything you want me to sign?"
It takes her another second before I practically see the light bulb light up above her head. "Oh! Yeah, actually I do. Thanks."
She fishes her ticket stub from her back pocket and hands it to me. As inconspicuously as I can, I scrawl across it, "Text
me," and I hand it back to her.
Once again, I can't believe I just did that.
______________________________________________________________
Sunday. 2:43am. Bunk.
I've been laying here for 45 minutes. 45 whole minutes and I've gotten nothing from her. I don't understand it. I thought we hit it
off. Did I make her mad? Why do I even care?
I go through my routine. The app wall turns up nothing. Twitter, nothing. Facebook, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Should I text
her? Would that be weird? After all, I wrote, "Text me" not "I'll text you." But why couldn't I text her? I didn't see any reason I
couldn't.
As I battle within myself, a battle that should not even be going on, my text alert goes off. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest.
It's HER. "So...I'm texting you," she says.
"Are you mad?" I text back.
"No. What do I have to be mad about?"
"I don't know, you seemed mad earlier."
"Well I wasn't."
"Good. I apologize for how that happened."
"It's okay."
I pause and stare at my phone. I am so frustrated at myself that I can't think of anything to say. So I go for broke. "So what did you think of the beer?"
"Seriously? It's taking you this long to ask about the beer?"
"Well I kinda never had the opportunity before."
"You always have the opportunity."
This comment floors me. What do I do with it? Does it have a double entendre? It sounds more like an invitation. I find myself
smiling. I could take this conversation wherever I wanted it to go. Did I want to take it in the direction the little devil on my shoulder is begging me for?
I bite the bullet. "Opportunity for what?" I bite my lip and smile in anticipation of her response. I feel like a naïve teenager.
She wastes no time. "Opportunity to ask me what I think of other things besides beer."
My smile is hurting my cheeks. "As in?"
"Don't be coy."
My excitement is quickly taking over my body. I don't have to take this conversation where I want it. She's doing it for me. "What can I say? Ike showed up."
"Shame."
"What if he hadn't?"
"You know..."
"Now you're being coy."
"So what if I am?"
"You just told me not to be coy."
"That still stands."
"But you can be coy..."
"I can do anything I want."
My breath catches and I'm not sure what to say next. So I throw something out there. "Within reason, I'm sure."
"No...I can pretty much do whatever I want."
"What does that mean?"
"I need to sleep."
"What?"
"Did that last text not go through?"
"It came through. It was just random."
"Yeah. Exhaustion suddenly hit me."
"Where are you?"
"Why does that matter? You're not near me."
"So?"
"In a hotel."
"With your boyfriend?"
"If I were, would I be texting you?"
"I honestly don't know."
"Either way. Doesn't matter. You're miles away from me now."
"Shame."
"I agree."
My heart sinks. She's ending the conversation. This disappoints me and I'm so fucking wired right now I can't even think of sleep. She's driving me insane.
"Can I text you again?" I ask.
"Why?"
This response catches me off guard and I'm not sure how to take it. Confused, I text, "Why not?"
"Why me?"
"Why not?"
"Touche."
"I'm not sure you used that word correctly right there..."
"I don't really care."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Can I text you again?"
"You can..."
"Better yet, if I text you again, will you respond?"
"Maybe."
"Just maybe?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Don't know yet."
"You're killing me."
"The feeling is mutual."
"So let me text you again."
"Why?"
"Because I WANT to." My heart is pounding. I'm not sure if it's out of excitement of frustration at this point. Part of me thinks it's fear. But what is it that I'm afraid of?
It's a couple of moments before she texts me back. "Is this you doing whatever you want?"
"I think so, yeah..."
"Fine."
"Is that a yes?"
"Did it look like one?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then."
"This time tomorrow night?"
"We'll see."
GODDAMMIT!!! She's killing me. Literally killing me. But the thrill. It's coming back. The thrill, the chase, the adrenaline. It's all here. Right now. I'm not ready to stop texting her yet but I should quit while I'm ahead. That's the smart thing to do.
"Okay. If I text you and you don't respond, what will that mean?"
"That I didn't hear my phone? I don't sleep with my phone."
"You're in bed with it now."
"How do you know I'm in bed?"
"Because I am."
"So just because you're in bed, that means I'm in bed?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because we're the same."
"That's an awfully loaded thing to say to someone you don't even know."
"Am I wrong?"
"Not this time..."
"What's my prize?"
"For what?"
"For winning this round."
"What do you want?"
"Now THAT is a loaded question."
"I asked it."
"I want to text you again tomorrow night."
"Why do you want to so badly?"
"Because I didn't get what I wanted earlier."
"What did you want?"
"The same thing you wanted."
"And texting will fix that?"
"Texting merely puts a Band-Aid on it. It's a quick fix."
"And what happens if we don't text?"
"Then I go back to stalking you online again."
"Won't you just do that anyway?"
"Probably."
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"It's not enough."
"Oh really?"
"Not anymore."
It's another couple of minutes before she texts again and in that time, I worry. Have I said too much? Have I scared her off?
Grossed her out? Has she fallen asleep? She did say she had to go and I kept her talking...
Finally she texts back. "You're lucky I find you so damn sexy. Unfortunately, I do have to go for now. I can't hold my eyes open. Next time, okay?"
"Yes. Next time," I text in agreement. I'll settle for that. She thinks I'm sexy and the fact that she outright said it directly to me is
enough to get me through the night.
I don't know why I'm suddenly giddy like an adolescent boy but I love the way it feels and then I feel the exhaustion wash over me out of nowhere. I feel like I can sleep now. I'm happy and I can sleep.
And then I think about it. It's getting real. More and more real by the second. Why am I not feeling any guilt right now?