20. THE ONE WHERE THEY’RE TRENDING
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE ONE WHERE THEY’RE TRENDING
Comment: To the person who posted Hex’s real name and info: I hope your pillow is always hot, you never find a comfortable position to sleep in ever again, and that whoever you fall in love with cheats on you with your best friend.
Comment reply: AND your mom’s a ho
Comment: Listen, I’m just here hoping these two post something together again. They shouldn’t waste their CHEMISTRY!!!
I got not a single minute of sleep last night—I’d never tried, but…
Knowing Joey was going to get up and leave kept me from returning to the camper. I was going to do nothing but toss and turn and then pretend to be asleep while Joey packed her things and left. Or worse, probably stare like a dog being dropped off at the pound watching its owner leave.
Joey and I have already said our goodbyes. I don’t want to do it again.
If she wants to go back to her life and pretend none of this ever happened, then who am I to try and stop her?
She hasn’t taken the plunge into the comment section yet, and part of me is glad she hasn’t. People on the internet are fucking brutal… and they’ve been worse to Hex.
I’ve typed out about a hundred replies ranging from, crazy coming from someone with a profile pic like that, to, how’s the view from your mom’s basement, you fucking loser?
I don’t post any of them, even though it kills me inside not to. Joey made it clear that I shouldn’t engage or post anything until Tuesday—in her mind it gives people time to forget about us.
Frankly, I think the silence has only made it worse. Especially with pictures of her at my shows this weekend popping up, new theories spanning the internet farther and wider.
We out-trended the premier of The Bachelor…
I fuck up my pace and fall behind my average, never able to clear my mind during my run like I’m usually able to. I’m definitely pushing myself harder than I should anyway, straining an already tired knee from a long week with not much rest.
My body’s tired, and so is my brain.
Going for a run was better than the alternative: continue to doomscroll, looking at comment after comment until the sun began to brighten the sky, and I was still lying on my back in the middle of a fucking parking lot.
A text interrupts the heavy metal playlist I chose this morning blaring in my ears—my phone’s alerted me multiple times to turn the volume down. I pause under the shade of a tree, hiding my screen from the glare of the bright morning sun.
Enzo
Are you alive?
Me
Remember that time I ran a 5k beer crawl on no sleep?
Enzo
You’re alive, okay good. Where are you?
Me
On a run, feeling kinda like I did during that 5k
Enzo
Get back here.
Me
Aww you miss me?
Enzo
Jo’s still here.
My eyes shoot to the time on my phone. It’s 9:00 a.m.
Her train arrives in ten minutes. Joey should be gone.
Me
Why isn’t she at the train station?
I swipe to a rideshare app and find a driver two minutes from my location. Fuck running back—I don’t really even know where I am, anyway. I’d just started running like Forrest fucking Gump!
Before the car arrives, I’ve nearly walked a drag path in the sidewalk. I don’t say a word when I get inside, sinking into the back seat.
I’m sticky with sweat, and even though the car’s warm, goosebumps run down my skin.
Me
Stop ignoring me!
A few more minutes go by without a response.
Me
Sometimes I think you hate me.
Is this because of what I said when we were playing Mario Kart?
You know I’m competitive, baby, I didn’t mean any of it!
Don’t make me beg
Enzo
Being paired with you as a best friend is my punishment for something wrong I did in another life. You’re insufferable.
That’s Enzo’s way of telling me he loves me.
I still send him a middle finger emoji as a reply before his next text comes in.
Enzo
Her train got delayed.
My heart deflates.
Oh. The train’s delayed. Of course.
The car pulls up to the club seven minutes later, and when I get to the door of the RV, I can’t let myself think about what I’m walking in on. I grab the handle and hop up the two stairs.
Enzo’s standing at the tiny fridge, pouring cream into his coffee.
Kell’s eating what’s probably his third bowl of Froot Loops.
Joey’s sitting at the dinette, her hair pulled back in a clip with a few pieces of blonde falling free to frame her makeup-less face.
Her hands are wrapped around a warm coffee mug, steam rising from the contents inside.
From where I stand, I can’t see the color.
I don’t know why my brain continues to focus on all the little things there are to know about Joey.
She’s sitting criss-cross, looking comfortable and not at all ready to bolt out of here like I’d expected.
“Did you teleport?” Enzo asks, looking down at his watch.
“I grabbed a ride.” I look around, kind of confused at how calm everyone is. “So, here I am. What’s going on?” I look to Joey, hoping she’s the one who answers.
“My train got delayed, and Enzo said you guys would just drop me off since you’re going back to Boston for a couple days.
Probably would have been the best option to begin with.
” She takes a sip of her coffee, and it shouldn’t surprise me or anyone else for that matter that I watch her lick the excess off her lips before speaking again.
“Then he started talking about all the things we needed to get done, the shows he thinks would be best to post about, and the venues with the best opportunity for good content. He even offered to buy a filming set up if needed.”
“Woulda been nice if you told me she decided not to stay,” Enzo grumbles.
“Did you expect her to?” I fire back.
“Wait, you’re not staying?” Kell asks, flabbergasted and talking through a mouthful of cereal.
This is the last thing I want to talk about, so I turn to Kell and answer for her. “No, she’s not stay—”
“Well, hold on,” she interrupts, putting her mug down. The coffee is light brown, like there might be a splash of the oat milk creamer Enzo keeps on hand. “This was your idea, right?” Joey asks Enzo.
He’s leaning against the counter, a steaming cup of fresh coffee beside him.
Enzo shrugs his shoulders, arms across his chest. “Well, yeah, but I was thinking about it from a business standpoint. We’re not social media people.
” We all shake our heads in unison. “West and I toyed with the idea of hiring someone to do this offsite before the tour started, but we didn’t have the budget, nor do I think any of us are actually good enough to do it ourselves, even with your brilliant plan laid out for us. ”
Joey has this far-off look in her eyes, gears spinning, the tip of her pointer fingernail between her teeth.
I can’t take my fucking eyes off her…
And I guess it’s about time I stop trying to lie to myself and admit that I’m absolutely gone for Josette whatshermiddlename Daniels.
God-fucking-damn-it.
I don’t even know her middle name, and I’ve already asked her to come on tour with me… Thrice!
I’m frustrated by all of it—trying to figure out why I care so much about a woman I barely know. But that’s the thing, right?
It’s that I don’t know her all that well, but I want to, and I can honestly say I’m on unfamiliar ice here. My next move could end in tragedy, or I could live to see another day.
Living to see another day would be ideal, particularly because I’ve already used my second chance, and I’m not really sure I’m the type of guy who gets a third.
I don’t know what love’s supposed to feel like.
I’ve never been in love. I don’t have a story about a girl from my hometown who broke my heart and scarred me.
There have been plenty of women along the way, especially over the last couple years, but not a single one who’s made me feel alive. I’ve been numb for a long time.
Joey makes me feel something, and I might not know what it is yet, but I’m determined to figure it out.
I do know what love looks like though. My parents slow dance in the kitchen when they think no one’s watching.
My dad pretends to be annoyed when my mom brings home a new rescue animal, just because he knows she likes to think she’s convinced him with whatever sad story the poor critter has.
My mom told my dad twenty years ago that she’s afraid of the snakes that get into our chicken coop sometimes.
He’s been coming to her rescue ever since, being the hero and releasing the snake somewhere away from our property.
Mom made me promise to never tell him her secret when I caught her picking up a snake barehanded in the barn when I was sixteen.
“Numbers.” Joey finally breaks the silence. “I need numbers.”
I don’t think I can move, but at least I’m no longer holding my breath, waiting for someone to talk. It’s not often I’m at a loss for words.
Enzo nods, because he’s similar in a way. When he decided to take a break from cyber security and come with me on this tour as my manager, it had taken weeks to make the decision. He had to mull over every detail and what-if at least four-thousand times each.
Me? I typically don’t think before I do. “I’ll figure it out later” has always been my motto.
Enzo pulls his phone out of his pocket, tapping a few times before handing it over to Joey. “The top is estimated total income this month based on ticket sales alone, and if you keep scrolling, you’ll see all the financials since the beginning of the tour.”
Joey nibbles on the inside of her lip as she scrolls, and I wonder if she’s aware she does it when she’s deep in thought. She hands the phone back to Enzo. “When do the new show’s tickets go on sale?” she asks.
“They’ll all be posted and available no later than Friday. I negotiated a higher percentage based on demand too.” I’m feeling like an outsider in my own business, because I had no idea he’d done that.
I stand by the front door, sticky with sweat, staring like some kind of child watching the adults talk. I actually really fucking hate it, but it’s no one’s fault but my own for not knowing what’s going on beyond the surface level stuff.