The Apparition
Bash
“Who the fuck did it?” I ask, standing over my bandmates like a disappointed father. “I know it was one of you because the public doesn’t know about the fucking Goldfish. Only you guys do.”
I’m not mad they put the snacks I shared with my ghost in my trailer, I’m mad at the note they left with it.
“It wasn’t us,” Jonah snaps. “No one cares about your ghost but you, it’s just a story from like twenty fucking years ago. Can I gonow?”
Yas smacks the back of his head. “Bet it was you. Jealous no one fawns all over the bassist, JoJo?”
“Fuck off,” he growls, but to my surprise he doesn’t use this opportunity to escape. “If it was me we all know the food would have been opened.”
They’re about to make a joke of it all again, and I can’t let them. “I don’t give a shit about the food, I just want to know why you left a thank you note. Is that supposed to be some kind of closure for me so I shut the hell up about it?”
“It literally wasn’t any of us,” Levi says confidently. “We’ve been in Yas’ trailer the last two hours.”
“Bullshit, someone could have slipped away. You don’t pay attention to shit going on around you.” I look at them all and release a breath. Fuck it. “I want all of you to write the words thank you so I can compare.”
Levi laughs at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I relax slightly when Sidney brings a sheet of paper over to entertain my lunacy.
“Just do it,” he says gently, handing it to Levi first. “Pretend you’re signing an autograph for me.”
He softens slightly for my handler and does as asked. They all do. Almost every single one of them leave some sort of crude note or call me a name underneath it, but not one of their handwriting matches where it counts. I knew it wouldn’t, yet I still know it had to be one of them. There is no one else. “Fine. Sidney, can I talk to you in my trailer?”
I leave without a glance back, ignoring their snickering as he follows me out. Neither of us say anything until we’re safely inside and I’m sure we weren’t followed.
“Do you want me to write it as well?” he asks, and I don’t miss the way he tears Levi’s off and pockets it. “It wasn’t me, but I’m happy to prove it.”
“No, I know you wouldn’t do that. Can you get me one of those nanny cam things? I don’t care if it’s a stuffed bear or fucking orangutang, but it will help me not feel like I’m slowly losing my mind this tour if I had something. Don’t tell anyone about it though.”
Sidney hesitates like he wants to talk me out of it, then nods. “I’ll get it done this afternoon and text you the login information. For what it’s worth, I don’tthink it was any of them. They may not understand what she means to you but they wouldn’t risk pissing you off like that halfway through a tour.”
Part of me knows he’s right, but — “Who then? Who could get past security and into a trailer I’m 90% sure I locked? Darius said he didn’t see anyone suspicious walking around.”
“Darius also spends most of his time watching TikTok,” he reminds me. “Have you considered the possibility that your ghost of a sad girl was real and she’s trying to reach out?”
Shaking my head, I collapse back on my bed with a sigh. “No, because if she was real, why the hell would she wait until after that dumb interview? It’s more plausible that someone is fucking with me or some girl is going to swoop in and pretend she’s her just to use me.”
I didn’t mean to say that so blatantly, but here we are.
”You’re right, next to it being your band mates, that is the most plausible explanation. But what if the reason she waited until after the interview was because she didn’t think you rememberedher? And now she’s worried that you’ll never believe her because of it?”
I give him the most deadpan stare I can muster as I pretend I’m not actually considering that option. “And she... what? Broke in here just to leave a thank you note after all this time and didn’t even leave me her phone number? Was that supposed to help me believe she’s not a ghost?”
He sighs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll get you that camera.”
“Thank you. You’re the best handler in the world, you know that?”
I give him the most genuine smile I can muster, because you catch more bees with honey or some shit, right?
“You make it easy,” he counters. “You might be one of the last rockstars who isn’t addicted to anything.”
“Just ghosts, huh? Could be worse, but we all know how much I hate coke, and uppers in general give me crippling anxiety. Could use a nice downer though, if you’re feeling generous enough. What do you have on you for Levi?”
I know he has something, he always does, but I have a show in a few hours so something tells me he’s aboutto lie.
“Just a handful of Xanax. Do you need one?”
