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I should be writing more songs for the band to use without me when I step back, prepping for them to find the next leadsinger for the band. Leaving them with enough material to last while I disappear into the night with my girl.
Can I actually walk away from the music?
That last one is like a rock sunk deep in my gut, leaving me breathless more often than not as the miles add up between us.
Fuck I miss her.
I send her another text, knowing that the last two have gone unanswered thanks to her busy schedule and definitely not helped by the time difference.
I’m officially on the other side of the country from her and it’s already late as balls here.
I can’t sleep, I already tried that remedy—just sleep until I can sing or call her, but there’s only so much shut-eye you can catch on a moving bus with a bunch of loud mouth motherfuckers.
Hence the reason for all the ‘perks’ before.
The amount of whiskey and women that boarded this bus in the past is something I’ve become ashamed of. Keeping roadies on board for the sheer pleasure of it. The drugs that laced my brothers veins to keep them up or keep them down, whichever they chose for the night. The alcohol that lead to more slurred words and fist fights than what it should have.
It all feels odd now. Wrong almost as I observe my brother Tob make out with a girl he met at the last show over six hours away from where we are now.
I don’t even know her name.
I’ve never known their names. That was Ian’s job.
Or to see Mac with a joint permanently hanging from his lips and perpetually reddened and baggy eyes I never noticed before.
That’s cuz it’s new.
The musky smell permeates the tour bus, leaving us all with a contact high of sorts. Something I used to not give a fuck about, but for some reason, it’s really getting to me.
Drugs were never my forte. Too many variables in kinds and where you got it from.
It was much easier to send Ian to the local liquor store and pick up a bottle of something smooth that went down well and easy. A bottle of which is wedged between me and the seat cushion now to keep from slushing all over the floor of the bus.
Several swigs are missing from the amber, but it doesn’t hold my attention anymore like I thought it might.
No, the only two things I give a fuck about are my family, which includes my girl, and my songwriting.
There’s one in particular that’s got my attention more than anything else at this moment and when his eyes meet mine, I feel pain sear across my chest.
I’ve been so focused on me and my shit that I haven’t noticed it.
I feel like I haven’t truly seen my twin in weeks, and he looks at me now like he’s haunted.
An orange glow lights up his darkened features as he inhales off the joint still lingering on his lips. He holds my gaze with sunken eyes, telling me without saying a single word as he blows smoke out of the side of his mouth.
And when his eyes sweep the bus, landing on one of the newer guys from Sentry, the feeling sinks in my gut and I know exactly what’s going on with my twin.
He’s in love.
His face, however, portrays anything but rainbows when his uncharacteristically flat eyes come back to me, then shoot to the floor. A gloved hand rests on his heart, the heel kneading into the muscle there in hopes of easing some of the ache.
He’s in pain.
I drop my bare feet to the floor and ditch the bottle next to Tob who accepts it without looking. Drinks without removing his eyes from the chest of the chick in his lap.
I head to the back, tucking my notebook and pen under my arm, and almost regret my decision when I flick on the lights and the very bed I made love to Aria on lights up in the room.
Fuck, I miss her even more.
