I perk up. Not ideal, but…
“Not only will you have to refund a ton of money, you’ll risk more backlash. Not the best example on your first tour,” Calvin points out. I snarl at him, and he winces.
“How about we put a pin in this until tomorrow,” Ellie says, glancing at me, nervousness all over her face.
“We can’t put this off,” Calvin scoffs. “Do you want to tell three thousand people hours before a show it’s canceled?”
“We won’t make any decisions or announcements until we hear what the doctor says.” Penn’s voice is final, making Calvin sigh.
“If Travis is a no-go, our only option is for you to sing. We can’t cancel last minute,” Tanner says to Penn, and I want to punch him, even if he’s right.
Penn looks at me. He’s silently telling me he’s sorry and he doesn’t want to do it, but he will.
I get up and go to my bunk. If I need to rest to get my voice back to it’s beautiful melody, that’s what I’m going to do.
Well,it’s happening. My greatest fear is coming true right before my eyes, and I can’t do a thing to stop it.
I’m watching from the side of the stage as the guys do sound check. The doctor confirmed I strained my vocal cords. Technically, I can talk, maybe even sing. But when I attempt to, it feels like someone is slicing the inside of my throat with razor blades.
Thankfully, it’s not laryngitis or a severe case. He said I need my proper care and rest to get my voice back to normal. How in the fuck am I suppose to rest? I’m on tour. Doesn’t he know what that entails? He does—Ellie informed him. She went with me. Someone had to speak for me and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Calvin.
The doctor simply shook his head, ordering me to take a week off. Aweek? That’s three shows. No fucking way I’m doing that.
It’s been ten hours so far, and I’ve managed to keep my mouth shut and drink two gallons of water. I should be good to go soon.
“We need to change the set list. Penn, pick the songs you think will work best for you, and we’ll focus on those,” Tanner says.
I wanted to postpone, come back in a few months, but I was outvoted, and not by my band. Ellie ran a poll on our Instagram letting everyone know I was unable to sing. They could choose a new date when I was able, or have the show with Penn singing lead. The response was an overwhelming 89 percent for still having the show. Without me.
“Why are you torturing yourself?” I turn around and see Ellie approaching. My eyes flick back to the stage, and I shrug.
Her hand lands on my shoulder. “You should be resting. The faster you heal up, the faster you can get back out there.” Her voice is quiet and gentle, and only for me, but I’m in a pissy mood. I want to sulk.
I tap my phone, letting her know I’m about to text her.
Travis:
You know what would make me feel better?
She reads the message and arches a single brow.
Travis:
your pussy
Travis:
in my mouth
Travis:
your cum would probably heal my throat
She tries to bite back her smile, but her lip twitches. “No. Go rest.” I shake my head. There’s no way I can rest with this going on. What if they need my help? “Fine. I’ll be in my room if anyone needs anything.”
I watch her walk away, hips swaying in dress pants that hug her ass tightly. I want her to sit it on my face while she deepthroats my cock. It really would make me feel better.
Sighing, I turn back to the stage as Penn steps up tothe mic. The first note reaches me. I already knew what song it’d be. It’s popular right now and probably one of his favorites—“BarbieGirl.”
