Chapter 36
ELLIE
“Where the hell is Travis?” Calvin roars.
I scan the bar frantically for a mohawk but come up empty. I clutch my knotted stomach. Something is wrong.
Calvin snatches my arm, squeezing hard. “Hey!” I jerk away. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Do you hear that crowd? This is a disaster!” He punches Travis’s number in his phone for the third time in twenty-eight seconds, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Maybe he had an emergency bathroom issue.” I try explaining possible reasons that could’ve kept Travis gone this long. He said he had to pee, but I walked by the bathroom and there was a line. I checked this entire place twice and didn’t see him anywhere.
“Yeah right,” Calvin scoffs.
“Where’s Travis?”
Penn appears backstage, while the crowd boos loudly.
“We don’t know!”
I wince, but Penn doesn’t bother looking at Calvin. He stares at me like he’s trying to find the answer in me. “He’s not in the bathroom?”
“He’s not anywhere!” Calvin yells. Penn frowns, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Don’t you think we’ve tried that?”
Penn glares, but ignores him, calling Travis anyway. “Shit,” he curses under his breath when he gets his voicemail, too.
“The crowd is about to turn on you guys if you don’t sing something.”
Penn shakes his head. “Fuck off for a minute.”
I chew on my lip. Calvin’s right, but Penn would probably rather tear out his lip ring than sing lead.
“What the hell is happening?” Tanner barks, joining us.
Before anyone can answer him, my phone dings several times in a row. I swipe open the screen, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. It better be Travis with a very good explanation, but as I scan the notifications, my heart plummets.
It’s the band’s social media blowing up with pictures of Travis and some girl. His pants are down, and her hands are on him. They both look like deer in headlights. I bite down on my teeth as emotions I don’t want crash into me.
“What is it, Ellie?” Penn asks, his tone soft as he slides closer to me.
Just then, another photo pops up, this one of Travis up against a wall, being handcuffed. “Oh God.” I shove the phone at Penn.
“Shit.”
“What is it?” Calvin and Tanner ask simultaneously.
My mind whirls, trying to process the photo of Travis and a woman. He wouldn’t. Yet, he said he would. What the hell is wrong with him?
“Hello! Ellie! Do something!” Calvin’s annoying voice penetrates my ears, forcing me to snap out of it.
“Ok, I’ll call the police station and find out what his charges are and what his bail is. Penn, Tanner, you need to go back on stage.” I look at Penn. “Either sing or make up an excuse and get out of here as quickly as possible. This is already circulating. People are going to know what happened.”
“I can’t sing. I haven’t practiced,” he argues.
“We’ll make it work,” Tanner insists, and Penn sighs.
“I’ll work on getting this taken down online, but…” I don’t need to say more. They know once it’s out there, it’s out. The best I can do is spin it in a more flattering light, or say fuck it because it’s more rock-n-roll, right?
“I’ll go with Ellie,” Calvin says, and I internally groan.
“I think you should stay here and do damage control,” I say.
His jaw clenches and his mouth opens, but Penn cuts in. “Let Ellie deal with Travis. We’ll need you here.” I know they don’t need Calvin here. They can manage on their own, as they did for years, but he’s throwing me a line. I want to hug him for it.
Penn hands me my phone, and I rush out of the building, ordering an Uber as I do.
It was a pain getting anyone at the police station to give me any information over the phone.
I had to wait thirty minutes for my Uber to get me to the station, then another hour in the waiting room while they finished booking him before telling me where he was being held.
They just kept saying, “You’ll need to be patient.
” Yeah, right. Does that work for anyone?
Patience is a virtue I was never granted.
While I waited, I tried dealing with the shitstorm online.
I’d been fairly lucky thus far, not needing to put on my PR hat often—it’s not really my forte—but now I feel like I’m drowning.
I have no idea what exactly happened, only what I’m reading online, so I can’t respond yet.
Loose Threads isn’t mega-famous or anything, but they’ve built a decent following the last couple of years.
With them being in the punk scene, it’s easier to brush this stuff under the rug. People don’t care as much that he got drunk and…peed on a cop. Some even think it’s funny. There are at least twenty people in the DMs offering to post his bail because ‘fuck the man.’
There are still a few saying what a disgrace it is and turning it into a Blue Lives Matter debate. That’s going to be tricky to navigate. My eyes are burning from all the reading I’ve been doing, and my ass is numb from these shitty plastic chairs.
“Ma’am,” the woman from the window calls.
My attention snaps up. Ma’am? The hell.
I straighten my shoulders and walk up to the desk. “Yes?”
“You’re here for Mr. Beckett?” She pushes her glasses up her nose. She’s at least sixty, and from her no-nonsense demeanor, I know she runs a tight ship.
“I am.”
“His bail is two thousand dollars cash or card.”
“Two thousand?”
She looks up from her keyboard and arches a gray eyebrow at me. “He assaulted a police officer,” she says, distain heavy in her tone.
My eyes fall shut. Shit.
“He was also booked on charges of public indecency, public intoxication, possession of a controlled—”
Drugs? That motherfucker...
The lady clears her throat. “Ma’am, you need to sign this paper and pay the fee before he can be released.”
“Of course.” I pull out my wallet without a second thought.
A few minutes later, a door opens behind her.
My eyes catch on a familiar sight, drowning out everything else.
Travis is being ushered from the back, looking like he’s been run over by a Mack truck.
His hair is more disheveled than I’ve ever seen it.
His left eye is black and blue. My chest aches in an unfamiliar way, and the sudden urge to cry hits me.
I should be mad—I am mad—but he looks…sad, and lost, and for some reason I want to make it all better.
His chin lifts, his bloodshot, pale eyes landing on mine. I swallow a lump and refocus on the lady in front of me as she hands me his possessions and some paperwork. Travis doesn’t spare me a glance as he heads straight for the exit.
The Uber is long gone, but I knew he wasn’t going to wait.
I have about a dozen messages in the band group chat that are still unanswered because I didn’t have any answers to give them.
Calvin has called every ten minutes, and I’ve ignored it every single time.
Penn has texted me separately, that’s the only thing I’ve responded to.
“Travis, wait!” I whisper-yell, though I don’t know why, the parking lot is dead at this hour.
He ignores me and doesn’t stop until he’s reached the end of the lot, dropping down on the curb. “I need a cigarette.”
“You don’t smoke.”
“Yeah...I need a joint.”
“Travis,” I start, but he lets out an annoyed groan.
“Fuck, can we not right now? I need a minute.”
I understand it’s been a rough night for him, but everyone else has had to deal with the shitstorm he left behind. Doesn’t he realize that?
“I need to update everyone. They’re worried.”
He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sick of everyone worrying. I’m fine!”
“Yes, clearly. Getting arrested for”—I hold my fingers up, counting the charges the lady informed me of—“indecent exposure, public intoxication, and drug possession. What the hell, Travis? Does that scream fine to you?”
He growls. “It wasn’t…those are bullshit charges.”
I laugh dryly. “There are photos plastered everywhere online that say otherwise. Want me to show you?”
His eyes narrow. “That’s why you’re being a bitch? Because of some stupid pictures online?”
“A bitch?” I shriek.
“It wasn’t like that. If you’d give me a second to explain.”
“No need. You’re just going to lie, like last time.”
“Last time?”
I cross my arms over my chest. It wasn’t that long ago, surely he hasn’t forgotten. It takes him a minute, but it clicks. “Christ, you’re still on about that?”
“I thought you were dead!” I scream, and it feels good to finally let it out and let him have it. “You said you were fine. Clearly you’re not.”
“Why do you care!?” he roars.
My eyes dart around the parking lot to make sure we’re still alone. The last thing we need is for both of us to get arrested. I take a breath, lowering my voice. “I just do. I care about…all of you.”
He laughs bitterly. “Right, all of us. Because we’re paying you.”
I shake my head. “No.” He cannot seriously think that’s the only reason.
“Do me a favor and stop caring.”
I want to tell him it’s not that simple.
I can’t just stop. I’ve tried. I don’t know when my feelings for Travis shifted into more.
I suspect a while ago. I’ve just been too stubborn to admit it, like Liv said all along.
The physical aspect was one thing, but I’m in uncharted territory. I don’t know what to do.
Headlights illuminate the parking lot, stalling our argument. For once I’m missing the crew bus. Sadly, it’s long gone.