I pull out my phone, no idea why. I know there’s nothing waiting for me. The only people I talk to are the people on this bus. And they’re too busy chatting up their loved ones back home. I get up and shuffle back to my bunk only to hear more giggles. Ellie is curled up on her bed on the phone, too. What the hell? Is this check-in night or some shit?
It’s not that unusual for her to be FaceTiming someone. I’m pretty sure she has a weekly session with her family. I swallow bitterness and climb up to my bed and lie down. My head hits the lumpy pillow, and I remember what’s underneath it. Reaching my hand back, I grab the bottle and slide it out. I almost forgot I had this vodka. It’s half empty, but that’s ok.
“Miss you, sweetheart,” I hear Ellie’s dad say. I’m familiar with his voice. I even met him once over FaceTime. He seems like a chill dude.
I unscrew the cap and take a long drink, letting the alcohol burn my throat. Seems like everyone’s got something I haven’t got. A reason to go home. Someone waiting for them. Someone missing them.
I take another pull from the bottle. I don’t need anything else. This right here will do.
27
ELLIE
“What’s his deal?”Tanner says, aggravation clear in his tone.
“He’s drinking a lot, then swears he’s not drunk,” Liam adds, sounding worried.
Penn stays quiet, but I can see his wheels turning.
Nervousness takes flight in my chest as I listen to the guys go back and forth on Travis’s strange behavior the last few nights. No one has seen him sleep longer than a few minutes, and we’ve actually been watching, taking turns trying to sneak and keep an eye on him. I think he’s catching on because his eyes are all shifty when everyone is on the bus.
We’re parked in the lot behind the venue for tomorrow’s show, and Calvin and Travis stepped out to get dinner. It feels wrong to talk about him like this when he’s not around. It’s like I’m betraying him somehow.
“What about you, Ellie? Notice anything weird?” Tanner asks.
“Not really.” I shrug. I have noticed things, but I assumed they were tour side effects or something. The dark circlesunder his eyes, not sleeping, and barely eating. And I have noticed the drinking. I’m pretty sure he had three shotsbeforehe went on stage a couple nights ago. I’ve never seen him do that before. No one else saw, and I didn’t say anything because he still went out and killed it.
Another concerning thing is his hair. He stopped fixing it like he normally does for a show. The ‘hawk’ has taken on a life of its own at this point, but the last two shows, he left it flat. No product. Nothing.
There was his behavior on stage last night, too. He’d forgotten the lyrics of more than one song. He mumbled through them, trying to play it off, but the guys weren’t oblivious like the crowd might have been. I’ve never seen him forget lyrics before. He’s normally flawless on stage. A presence. A force of rock-n-roll nature. It’s so natural for him to be good, like he was born just for this.
“You need to tell us if you do,” he presses.
“Dude, lay off,” Penn snaps at him.
The bus door opens and everyone goes quiet. Calvin and Travis step on with pizza. I was starving when they left but now my stomach is too jumbled with nerves, so I excuse myself to my bunk and lie down. I should go back to my hotel, it’s only two blocks away, but I’m suddenly too exhausted.
A few minutes later, Travis pushes back the blue curtain hiding me and holds out a slice of pepperoni pizza. “Why you hiding?”
I sit up and grab the paper plate. “I’m not. I’m just tired.”
He sits beside me and hunches forward so his head doesn’t hit the top of the bunk. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just stares straight ahead while I nibble on my pizza. I study him, he doesn’t act tired, but he looks it. His eyes are sunken in, and the dark circles underneath have been a constant presence. It also appears he’s lost a bit of weight. I rarely see him eat. In fact, we had tacos for dinner last night and I only saw him eat one. Normally, he can pack them away.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re trying to solve a puzzle.”
I pop a shoulder. “You seem different.”
“How?” He laughs. “Is it because I’m famous now?”
My eyes roll. “Your head has grown a lot the last few months,” I tease. “I’m surprised it fits on the bus.” He scoffs, dropping back on the bed and closing his eyes. I finish chewing the last bite of my pizza before asking, “Are you sleeping ok? The sleeping pills helping?” I know he doesn’t take them every night, and he promised he wouldn’t at all when he was drinking, but I assume he takes them when he needs them.
His brows pinch, but he doesn’t open his eyes. “Yep.”
I chew on my cheek, steeling my nerve to keep pushing even though I know it’s going to piss him off. “You sure? You look tired, and I can’t remember the last time I saw you nap.”
