Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Keannen
WE FINALLY GET A chance to breathe when we reach Baltimore. It’s a long trek, especially with that night in the tour bus playing on repeat in my brain. I managed to clean the couch enough that no one noticed, but my bandmates definitely suspect something is up with me.
“It’s nothing,” I snarl when Jacob prods for what seems the hundredth time.
God, this break could not have come at a better time. I want little more than to get off the bus and away from my bandmates when we finally reach Baltimore.
Unfortunately, the very first time I venture out into the city, Jacob tags along, the sunny idiot.
The Ten Hours offer their security guy, the big one, Seth or whatever, but Jacob and I decline. We’re not on that level yet. Part of me wonders if they only offered in order to rub that fact in our faces.
“I’d take him along, but not for my safety,” Jacob mutters when we slide into the rideshare carting us to Baltimore’s famous harbor area.
“Do not fuck the security guy,” I groan.
“Why not? He’s a tree worth climbing, that’s for damn sure.”
I roll my eyes. “Because he’s the security guy. You’re the pretty boy frontman. You can sleep with whoever you want.”
“And what if who I want is a big, stern, beefy security guy?” Jacob tosses back.
I roll my eyes again and watch Baltimore flash past the window. I’ve been to the harbor plenty and it’s always packed with tourists, so it isn’t my first choice for an outing, but when Jacob caught me trying to slink off to a dive bar, he roped me into joining him. Sometimes I wonder what weird magic this guy possesses to make everyone do what he wants the second he smiles at them.
The car drops us off, and we exit into a bustle of humanity. It’s a balmy night in Baltimore, the kind of humid, cricket-filled evening that sends me right back to my childhood. The water of the harbor stings my nose. Huge, useless, decorative ships bob in the water, thrilling tourists. A fountain area lies before us, kids scampering through the water, and stores wing out on either side of it .
“What should we do first?” Jacob says.
I shrug. My plan for the night was to find cheap booze and drink enough of it that I couldn’t think about Tim anymore. The kid is stuck to my brain like shit to a shoe. Sure, he’s been fun to mess with. He’s also been fun to get off with, but I need to cut him off before he gets all weird and attached. I haven’t forgotten our first breakup and how unceremoniously he dropped me back then. I’m not leaving myself open to that a second time.
Jacob picks a direction and leads the way, and, like everyone else in his life, I’m happy to follow in the wake of his enthusiasm. He soaks up the harbor with an almost childlike wonder, which even I can admit is part of the guy’s unnatural charm.
It’s not that different from Tim. No matter what I’ve thrown at him, he’s lit up with enthusiasm from every word, every touch, every kiss. Even when I was trying to be cruel, he didn’t seem to mind as much as he should. He always came back for more—and responded as enthusiastically as ever.
Christ, it’s hard not to get addicted to something like that. Not only do I get to vent all my pent up frustration, but I get the pure, genuine rush of watching Tim come apart while I do it.
Am I still trying to mess with him , part of me wonders, or do I actually want him?
I physically shake my head at that. Hell no, I am not going to be the one getting attached here, not to Tim of all people. I’ve been with lots of guys. Not a single one has gotten his hooks in me. I’m not starting with one I hate. What kind of messed up reverse psychology bullshit is that?
I nearly stumble into Jacob when he stops to gawk at something. I was so lost in my head I didn’t notice where he was leading us, but now he stands in front of one of the tourist trap stores lining the harbor, gaping at the trinkets inside.
“Let’s get souvenirs,” he says.
“Not until we’re famous,” I grumble.
“Oh, come on, we need to do something to commemorate our first tour.”
“How about we outplay The Ten Hours at every remaining stop? That’s the only souvenir I need from this.”
Jacob huffs at me.
“What?” I say. “This is the break we’ve been waiting for, Jacob. It’s the best shot we’ve ever gotten at doing this for real. It isn’t going to mean shit if we’re just some bigger band’s opening number, though.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“Isn’t it?”
Jacob shakes his head. “No. We built this on our own. We’re more than an opening number. Management put us on this tour because we could bring our own fans. We’re helping them as much as they’re helping us.”
I scoff, a harsh, bitter sound, but I’ve never gotten to take the easy road in life. Not in high school, not after, not now. Why would I believe a band like The Ten Hours would hand us the fame and fans we need to get off the ground? No shot. If we don’t wrench it out of their hands by force, it isn’t happening.
“We need to outplay them,” I say. “We need to make sure that at every single stop, we leave as the better band. That’s the only way people are going to remember us.”
Jacob faces me instead of the store and all its cheap junk. Shoppers filter past us, strolling along the red brick of the harbor as the night deepens. The lights of the city spill across the water like streaks of face paint. It brings back memories of strolling along the waterside with my parents before they wanted nothing to do with me anymore, when I didn’t have to fight for every single crumb I have. Life has finally given me a break; my dream of going big with my bad lies so close my fingertips brush the edges of the fantasy. But one bad performance and The Ten Hours will be all people remember about this tour. I’m not willing to let that happen.
Jacob’s earnest brown eyes, the eyes that are going to crush so many teenage hearts when we’re famous, focus intently on me.
“This isn’t a competition,” he says. “We aren’t here to outshine them, and they aren’t here to outshine us. When one of us has a good show, it’s good for both of us. We’re in this together, at least for the duration of the tour. ”
“That’s very sunshine and roses of you, but—”
“It’s not sunshine and roses,” Jacob cuts in, uncharacteristically hard.
He might boom onstage, but off it, he’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. Not right now, however. Even those soft eyes of his sharpen.
“I’m not some idealistic fool trying to hold hands and braid the other guys’ hair,” he says. “I’m serious. We’re artists. We aren’t products. There is enough space for both of us. If those crowds only cared about The Ten Hours, we wouldn’t be selling out. Erin wouldn’t have had to turn down additional tour dates. They’re showing up for us, too. Haven’t you seen the merch? The T-shirt with both bands on it is the best seller out of the whole bunch.”
I scowl, but don’t retort. For once, I don’t have some snappy, bitter comeback.
“I didn’t know that about the shirt,” I grumble.
“Yeah, I know. You can only see other bands as competition, but that’s simply not the case here. We’re doing a combined show. They’re our allies, not our enemies.”
My scowl deepens. The last thing I want is to have to consider The Ten Hours something other than rivals. That would make what I’ve been doing to Tim all kinds of messed up. I’ve gone out there every night aiming to out-drum him, then I’ve slipped backstage to mess with his head in the hopes of throwing him off his game. It sounded like the perfect way to get revenge on the guy, at least until now.
What if revenge won’t get me what I need though? Can I really call that night on the tour bus an act of revenge? I was frustrated and angry. I wanted to feel better. I asked to meet up with him because I knew touching him would satisfy something inside me, that it would calm this bitter, burning edge of rage that’s roared within me for so many years.
I’m still debating when Jacob declares our adventure over and summons a rideshare. We weave through the foot traffic to meet up with the driver away from the bustle of the harbor. I barely notice the crowd any longer though. Jacob’s words left me more off-balance than he can possibly realize. They pulled back the curtain on my self-deception, forcing me to face a reality in which I don’t want to punish Tim for what he did; I simply want him.
There’s no way that can work. I’ve never wanted anyone, not for more than a night. I don’t do soft. I’ve never had the option to do soft. Life has demanded a brute force approach, and I’ve been happy to oblige. It’s kept me safe, protected me from all the ways people like my parents wanted to hurt me. The absolute last person who should be tearing down that defensive wall is the guy who helped lay some of the foundational bricks.
Jacob lets me sit in the rideshare and sulk in silence the entire way back to our hotel. I really hope everyone is out doing tourist things tonight. I want nothing more than to go back to my room and brood alone. I’m sharing with Levi again, and he’s a pretty good roommate, all things considered. Still, even that laid back stoner of a bassist is more human interaction than I’m looking for with my head all messed up.
We reach the hotel and head for the lobby, but something stops me in my tracks before the lights can swallow me up. A figure stands off to the side, pacing in tight circles and talking on his phone. When he comes close enough for the light to hit him, my chest tightens at the sight of soft brown hair and a smattering of freckles.
“Something wrong?” Jacob asks.
“No,” I say quickly. “No. It’s fine. Go ahead of me.”
Jacob regards me for a moment, but I don’t really care what he’s assuming. Everyone knows Tim and I know each other. If they’ve put together the rest, that’s their problem, not mine.
Jacob goes on ahead after a beat of hesitation, and I slip off into the dark. Tim is beside the main doors, pacing on a sidewalk. A highly manicured garden with trees and scrubby bushes stands between him and the parking lot. I duck beneath those bushes, hoping he’s too distracted to have noticed my arrival.
I wait, hardly breathing as I crouch below the bushes, but he doesn’t call out. If I strain my ears, I can barely pick up what he’s saying. As his voice rises, I listen closer.