Chapter 38
TRAVIS
Everyone, and I mean everyone, is giving me the cold shoulder.
Even the crew members are being weird. All because I got arrested?
Big fucking deal. I’m a rock star, what did they expect?
Have they listened to our lyrics? Seen us play?
It’s not like we’re sitting around the campfire, kumbaya-ing, and singing “Living On A Prayer.” We sing about fucking the man.
People fist fight at our shows. They make circle pits, crowd surf, and throw shit at us. We’re supposed to fuck shit up.
And it’s not like I did it on purpose. I was TRYING TO PISS.
But apparently, I left some ticked-off fans in the crowd waiting for my return.
I don’t know why they care. It was a free pop-up show.
They weren’t out anything. I haven’t been on social media, I avoid that shit at all costs.
Ellie gets mad when I mess up her perfectly crafted version of us.
I hear hushed voices coming from the front of the bus, and I quit breathing so I can listen.
“Just try it out. One song a show?” Tanner says.
“No.” That’s Penn.
“They loved you.”
“I said no,” he bites in a hushed tone.
What are they talking about? Singing? Excuse the fuck out of me. That’s my job.
“Fine, whatever.”
Instead of going out and confronting them, I stay put.
They might be pissed, but so am I, and they’re all getting the silent treatment from me.
No one even asked me about the black eye I was sporting once I was released.
Mr. Little Dick Pissy Leg was a bitch, throwing me into the wall like that, trying to get his revenge.
We pull up to Planet Fitness, and everyone rushes off to shower and use the bathroom. As soon as everyone clears the bus, I catch Calvin scrolling on his phone.
“Hey.” I take the seat across from him.
“Hey,” he says, not bothering to look up. He’s avoiding me, too. Only because he knows I could easily get him fired. If the guys find out he’s the one who supplied me with the drugs, he’ll be stranded in whatever city we’re in, without so much as a ticket home.
“What was all that shit about Penn singing?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“If I’m asking you, then obviously fucking not.”
“He had to sing the other night because the crowd was revolting. It was either he sing, or they pack up and take more heat.”
I shift in the seat. He hates singing. He’s good at it and could easily sing lead on several of our songs, probably better than me. Our voices have a different range. Where his is deep, mine is raspy.
“The crowd loved it, and wanted more, but obviously they weren’t prepared for your absence and got the hell out of there.” When I don’t respond, he glances up from his phone. “We should probably talk.” He lowers his voice, his eyes going all shifty.
“About what?”
“You know.”
I frown, playing dumb. “Not sure what you mean.”
“For God’s sake, Travis. I can’t help you anymore.”
“You think I can’t get them without you?” I laugh bitterly. I could walk out on the street right now and get my hands on anything I want. It’s easier for me to make him my bitch boy. If I go down, this motherfucker is going down with me.
“Well, I think you should ease up. You’re facing some serious shit right now.”
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Dr. Phil. You’re not getting off that easy. You will be in just as much shit as me if everyone finds out you started this whole mess.”
He clears his throat. “I was only trying to help.”
“And you’ll keep helping unless you want to pack your bags right now and head to the unemployment line.”
His face grows red, and he looks like he wants to argue, but he can’t. “Fine.”
“Great.”
“But I’d be careful, Travis,” he warns.
My muscles clench. “With?”
“You seem to think you’re irreplaceable.”
I blink at him. I don’t think, I know I am.
“You should watch the performance they gave while you were sitting in the back of a cop car. It was good. It’s on YouTube.” I grind my teeth together. “You’re good, you are, but irreplaceable you are not.”
My stomach clenches, and my heart rages. I don’t let him see how his words affect me. I say nothing, ignoring his jab, and exit the bus. I need a shower to wash off this bad feeling I have.
“Three, two, one.” I count down the intro to our next song and wait for my cue to start singing, but when I open my mouth, nothing comes out. I know the lyrics, but they’re lodged in my throat.
Calvin’s words about the band being able to replace me the other day keep replaying in my head. It’s bullshit. Penn would never do that to me. Tanner might stage a coup, though. I could see that.
“Yo!” Tanner yells, shaking me from my spiraling thoughts.
I spind around, and they’re all staring at me. Tanner seems annoyed while Liam and Penn both wear a face of concern. “My bad.” I adjust the mic in front of me and start again. “Three, two, one.”
Building me up, only to kick me down
We’ve been here before, same story, different town
We just go ’round and ’round
Yet, I come back
Needing more, I’m always fucking bored
Pick me apart, put me together
Still, I won't be any better
Without you, there’s only half me
My eyes flash to Ellie as I finish the song.
She’s sitting in a chair in front of the stage, working on her laptop.
Why’s she always here? How can she focus with all this noise when she has a nice, quiet room to work in?
I stop singing and rip my guitar over my head.
The music cuts off right behind me, and Tanner’s heavy sigh is heard in space.
I unplug my cord from the amp and head backstage.
“What the hell? Where are you going?” Tanner barks. I ignore him and keep on. “We only have an hour here!”
“You guys played fine without me the other night,” I call back. It’s a dick thing to say, especially since Penn was the one to sing. I’m not mad at him. I’m not mad at any of them. They did what they had to do. It was partially my fault for putting them in that situation, but I’m irritable.
I’m almost to the bus when footsteps pound behind me. I swear to fuck, if it’s Tanner, I’m going to kick him in his abnormally large dick. A hand reaches out and tugs on my shoulder. I spin around, ready to swing, but come face-to-face with Penn. I relax.
“You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?” He arches a dark brow.
“Nope.”
He levels me with a look. “Do it anyway. I didn’t want to sing—I don’t want to sing—you know that. No one’s replacing you, Trav. Loose Threads doesn’t exist without you.”
My throat grows tight, so I swallow a lump that’s trying to build. He stares hard at me, attempting to pound his message through my thick head, but it’s not sinking in.
“I know,” I spit. I don’t want to feel this way, but I can’t shake it.
“Come back inside. Let’s finish rehearsing.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t fucking care. You don’t think I’d much rather be at home with Olivia right now? This is the life we signed up for. This is what we wanted, man.”
I sigh. He’s right, of course. “Fine.”
He shoves me toward the venue. “Let’s go.”