It’s why I was drawn to him.
I see myself in him.
We’ve both had troubled upbringings that have led us to a star-studded life. But just because we’re famous doesn’t mean we’re fulfilled. Nate has his art, which he needs to pursue, and he will do so with my help.
And me? Teaching Nate has given me a sense of purpose I didn’t know I was missing. It reminds me of when my dad taught me how to read and write—those are some of my best memories. Giving that same gift to someone else has always been a dream of mine. But I guess I have to play my life out as it goes, even if I have no idea where it’s headed anymore.
A sudden blaring of a horn rattles me from my thoughts. Oliver is waving from a bus being driven onto the lot. On the side of the bus is a picture of Danger and me up against the window from the set. It’s lovely and the band’s logo is next to us. Then a picture of all the guys is next to that. It’s a real tour bus, and this is all pretty fucking exciting and so different than what I’ve been used to.
The doors open, and Oliver steps off with the biggest of grins. “Ladies and gentlemen, your carriage awaits.”
We load our luggage and have a look around. Up front, there’s a section with seats and tables arranged more like a lounge than a typical bus. It actually reminds me of the jets I’m used to—more like a boardroom than anything. Past a dividing section, there are bathrooms. Toward the back are the sleeping quarters, with six beds stacked in bunks, three on each side. They’re abit smaller than queen-sized beds, and while there isn’t much headroom between each bunk, it sure beats sleeping in a chair.
“Dibs on the top bunk,” Ryan calls out, and Tillie groans.
“Ryan, think of me in this, will you? I don’t wanna climb up the top all the time.”
“Middle bunk?” Ryan counters.
“Fine! middle bunk.” She huffs out a groan.
Ryan grins and claims the middle bunk on the left. We grab the bottom bunk below them and Matt the top. Oliver takes the middle right, while Lunar and Danger take the bottom, leaving the top for the driver or whoever needs it when we’re at stops. Another bus following has our security detail on board, and they will follow us everywhere we go.
After we settle in, we head off for the first stop on our two-to-three-month tour.
***
We arrive in Tucson, Arizona, for a radio interview. It’s going to be the first interview with Danger and me together, and I’m sure we’ll have to play up ourfriendshipmore than it really is. But that’s okay. Maybe I’ll get to know him a little better on this tour, and by the end, we won’t have to fake ourfriendshipquite so much.
The bus pulls up at the WARI Studio, and a small crowd waits by the studio door. I figure they’re all here for Recoil, and it’s kind of nice tonotbe the center of attention for once. Even though I know some fans will be here to see me, the majority are here for the boys.
“Okay, can I have your attention, please?” Oliver calls out. “We’re going to head in and do this interview. Then, from here, we’re heading back on the road to Dallas. So you guys can get some rest after this because it’s a bit of a drive.” He points to thedoor. “Okay, let’s go.” He claps his hands, and we all get up and head out.
Security is waiting to help us, and as we exit, the screaming starts. I begin my usual routine of smiling and waving to the fans, but quickly remember they’re not here for me. A couple of them look at me and smile, but mostly, they’re all screaming for the boys. I grin and chuckle to myself as I drop my hand and turn to Nate to see him nodding and waving to everyone.
Not going to lie.
This feels weird.
I’m so used to having all the attention on me.
But I’m not jealous.
Actually, far from it.
If anything, it’s nice to stand back and watch someone else in the limelight for once.
Ryan’s running along the line, high-fiving everyone as Danger signs autographs, and Matt’s standing back, looking like he’s not really caring about anything. Like he’s seen this all a million times before, and the fame doesn’t bother him at all.
Nate, however, is smiling from ear to ear, absorbing everything but standing at my side.
I lean into his ear. “Go! I’m fine. Be with your fans,” I whisper.
He looks at me and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna leave you.”
“It’ll look suspicious if you never leave my side, Nate.”
He nods as I squeeze his hand and gesture over to a girl who’s holding a pair of drumsticks. “Go.”
