Chapter 35
TRAVIS
“Whose idea was it to play this impromptu show anyhow?” I ask, staring at the bar from the bus window.
“It’ll be great publicity,” Calvin answers.
I’m tired. Why do we keep adding shit to our to-do list?
“It’ll be fun, buddy.” Liam claps a hand on my shoulder, leaning over and following my gaze. It’s a small bar in an unsuspecting area on the outskirts of downtown Philly. Looks the same as all the places we’ve played at home, which is making me...feel things.
“Let’s go,” Tanner calls, strolling to the front of the bus. “We only have one hour to rehearse before the bar opens.”
I drag my ass out of my seat and follow everyone. We’re supposed to be surprising people in the area with a pit-stop show, but with two big-ass buses out front, I’m not sure how surprised they’re going to be.
The hour of rehearsal flies by, thankfully. The bar manager conveniently left two bottles of liquor in our room. He must be new. You never leave the gift before the show. Not if you want the band to be sober.
A quick scope of the room is done to make sure my bandmates aren’t going to bust back in here, then I uncap the lid from the Jack Daniels, and take a drink. Then I take another, place the bottle on the table, and slip out.
“Oh my God! You’re Travis Beckett!” some girl screams in my ear as soon as I step into the main area. It was another one of Calvin’s bright ideas to come in early and see if anyone recognized us before we took the stage. Tanner argued, but even Ellie agreed it would be good for PR, so here we are.
I give the girl a fake smile but push on toward the bar. I haven’t drunk enough water the last few days, and with my constant dry mouth, I need to guzzle about a gallon before going on stage.
The girl follows, and Penn appears right on my ass, too, chasing me to the bar, only moving over an inch when he hears me order water.
“And you’re Penn Hayze. Holy shit! Is the whole band here?” The blonde girl shoots up on her toes, searching for the other half of Loose Threads.
“How about you go see if you can find them?” I grumble, not expecting her to hear, but she does. Instead of being offended, her face lights up like I just gave her a challenge, and she’s up for it. She scurries through the crowd, on a mission.
“Someone’s an ass,” Penn says, arching his brow at me. I drink my water, not answering him, and he goes on. “Girls exhausting you already? You haven’t been on the prowl for a minute.” He straightens, looking around like he just came to some sort of realization.
I refuse to react, but my heart rate spikes a little. He’s like a goddamn bloodhound.
“Is there a reason you’ve kept your dick out of groupies?” He leans forward, keeping his voice low. “A petite brunette sort of reason?”
“Nope.”
He scans my face. “She works for us, dude.”
I roll my eyes, sarcasm thick in my tone. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“You’re different around her.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. You’re different period.”
“Am fucking not,” I snarl.
“I’ve seen the way you watch her. Constantly. I can say that because I know what the look in your eyes means. It’s not good, man. Not right now, anyway. Once we’re home, do whatever you want.”
My molars grind together as he drones on and on. He never talks this much.
“Just don’t do anything stupid that’s going to make shit awkward.”
My hand slaps the bar top. “I’m not doing anything! I don’t have ‘a look.’ You’re wrong.” I don’t like lying to him, but everyone has been waiting for me to fuck up. So Ellie and I fooled around a bit. And guess what? No one died, everything’s fine. Besides, we’re not doing it anymore.
“I know you. I’ve seen what you look like when you’re in lo—”
I glare at him. “Don’t push your love bullshit on me.”
His lip twitches, and he opens his mouth, about to hit me with another smartass comment, I’m sure, when his attention is pulled to his ringing phone. “It’s Olivia.”
“Really?” I gasp, feigning shock. He ignores me and hustles through the bar, phone pressed to his ear. As soon as he’s out of sight, I wave the bartender over and order a shot of tequila. I need to wash away his comments.
Was he about to say love? Psht.
He’s delusional. Just because he’s obsessed with someone doesn’t mean everyone else has to be. He can keep his disease over there. I don’t want it.
I toss the shot back quickly and order two more, then pull the pack of gum from my pocket and toss a couple of pieces in my mouth to mask the smell.
“Hey.”
I spin around, finding Ellie behind me. “Hey.”
“I can’t find Penn or Tanner. We need to get you guys back to the room. You go on in thirty minutes.”
“They’re probably having phone sex right now.” Her eyes snap to mine, unimpressed with my joke. But I mean, it’s very likely. “Wanna have a quickie? It’ll help me perform better.”
She doesn’t crack a smile. “No.”
“You’re no fun. Maybe I’ll find a groupie real fast.” I pretend to scan the bar. “How much time did you say we have?”
She flinches but recovers quickly, putting on her business face, and guilt slams into me. “Please be in the room in fifteen minutes.” Then she walks away.
I was joking, she knows that, right? I haven’t so much as looked at another girl for weeks. Fuck, longer than that if I’m completely honest. How has she not noticed? She’s invaded every free thought I’ve had for so long I don’t even know what to think about when she’s not in my head.
I snag another shot from the bar and make my way to our designated room. The place is starting to get crowded. Word must have spread that we were here. It wasn’t nearly this full when we first arrived.
Everyone’s already in the room by the time I slip through the door.
Tanner and Penn are tuning their instruments while Liam plays with his drumsticks in the corner.
I grab my guitar and start tuning next to Penn before warming up my vocals.
My throat cracks a few times. That’s fucking weird.
The guys side-eye me, but I chug a bottle of water and I’m good as new.
“Everyone ready?” Calvin pops in the door. “They’re about to call you on.”
The stage is small but feels more comforting than the slightly larger ones we’ve been playing on the last few months.
Almost feels like home. The crowd is thick, and cheers are deafening as we walk out under the golden lights.
I sway, latching onto the mic, the alcohol suddenly hitting me.
The urge to piss crashes into me like a ton of bricks.
Shit. I shouldn’t have downed that bottle of water. Or the shots.
Tanner’s eyes flash to mine in warning, and I flip him a middle finger.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” I ask, and the crowd erupts. “We’re Loose Threads and we’re going to pl–gonna play some music for y’all.” I clear my throat, trying to steady myself. Did I just say y’all? Shit.
What song did we say we were opening with?
My bladder screams in protest, needing to be emptied, but I shake it away as best I can.
“This one was written for a golden-haired girl named Olivia.” I chuckle.
She’s going to hate that. “This is ‘Barbie Girl.’” I nod my head, kicking the song into motion.
I’m flying through it, faster than normal.
Ignoring the heated stares my bandmates are likely giving me as they try to keep up.
As soon as it’s over, I can’t hold in the need to piss any longer.
“Did you guys like that?”
More cheers. They’re loving me right now. They’ll understand I need to use the bathroom. It’s a perfectly normal bodily function. My bandmates, however, are going to be pissed. Oh well.
“If you’ll excuse me for one second,” I say, keeping my gaze pinned on the crowd. “I have to take a leak real quick.” I tug my guitar over my head and place it down in front of Liam’s drums. The crowd oohs and ahhs as I rush off the stage, nearly tripping down the steps.
I head for the bathrooms, cursing when I see the line spilling around the corner. Goddammit. I cross my legs, two seconds away from pissing myself.
Fuck it.
I turn around and head for the exit, stumbling down the hall, and getting a few curious gazes as I practically fall out the doors.
“Hey, Travis! Where are you going?” a girly voice asks, following me.
I ignore her, making my way to the nearest dumpster. My dick is already out. My hand finds the building to hold myself up, and I let it fly.
Giggles approach, and I groan. Jesus fucking Christ, can’t I piss in peace?
“Need a hand?”
I grunt, leaning to the side, trying to block her view, but there’s no way around it. I’m trying to hurry, but piss just keeps streaming from my dick.
A hand presses against the bicep of the arm that’s holding my dick. I attempt to shake her off, but some pee hits my shoes, so I hold still.
Feels like the alley is spinning.
I’m still mid-stream when a bright light blinds me. I abandon my cock and the wall and throw my hands out, trying to keep the light from burning my retinas. “Hey, what the fuck?!”
My dick loses control and piss shoots upward, then sideways, all over the place.
“What the…put your hands up. Now!” a not-so-girly voice yells.
I scramble, trying to control my cock, but I can’t stop pissing. It’s pouring out of me like a fountain. I fist my dick, aiming down, but someone keeps shouting at me, and I think I hear crying.
“I said, put your hands up!”
“I’m pissing!” I glance up now that the light isn’t blocking my vision and come face-to-face with two men in blue uniforms.
“Put it away!” one yells.
“Motherfucker! He pissed on me!” the other says.
Uh-Oh.
I tuck myself into my pants and throw my hands up, no time to button my jeans, and they slide back down—boxers and all—exposing me again.
“Here, I can help,” the girl says, reaching over and tugging on my jeans. What the hell is she doing?!
I stand frozen, unsure what to do. I’m afraid to move my hands as one of the cops has what I’m pretty sure is a taser pointed at me, while the other is snarling. He must be the one I pissed on.
“Ma’am, step away from him.”
Before she has the chance, several flashes of light cross my eyes, blinding me again. “Fuck.” I sway, dizziness hitting me.
My pants are still down, a breeze blowing across my balls, and I hear the sound of cameras snapping photos.
“Get out of here!” one of the cops barks. “And, sir, pull your pants up! Christ.”
I yank my jeans up so fast I stumble forward into the other cop—Mr. Pissy Leg.
Before I can right myself, I’m thrown up against the wall, arms twisted behind my back, and cold metal cuffs slapped on my wrists. “You have the right to remain silent.”
My forehead falls to the building.
Fuck.