“Because I want you to fuckin’ walk away, stay off the fuckin’ bus. Make up somedamn excuse but stay the fuck away from all of us.”
“No way. I told you I have a job to do and I’m going to do it. What the hell is your problem? I know he’s not your boyfriend, so what’s with the possessive act?”
“Bitch, you have no idea. You’d have to be crazy to think he’d want you.”
I agreed with her but it still hurt. Michelle had given me a makeover and even convinced me to buy and wear make-up. New clothes, new hair, and still there was no way I could or would want to compete with these skanks for his attention. “I told you I’m here for work. I don’t want him and I don’t care what you two do. Got that?”
I’d had enough, I was tired, it’d been a long ass day and I wanted to find a place to sleep even if it was a chair on the damn bus. At least dickman told me they didn’t sleep on the bus with the guys they were on the second bus. At first I figured I’d be with them, but Chaos insisted, of course, that I be on their bus. Now I’m kinda glad he did.
“You need to sleep it off,” I said as I turned hoping to get away from her before itgot worse. No such luck. Her hand grabbed my shoulder and I turned and gave her the ‘fuck you bitch’ look, but she either didn’t care or was too drunk to notice.
“Listen, Cinder, or whatever your name is. Don’t make me hurt you…”
“No one is going to get hurt. What the hell, Sweets?” Chaos cut in as he grabbed her arm. “Leave her alone. We talked about this shit.”
They had? Interesting. I wonder what he’d said.
“Did she hurt you?” he asked looking me over for injuries.
The entire situation was screwed up, like a bad TV movie, if he hadn’t looked so serious I’d have laughed. If she’d tried anything, she probably would have fallen off her six inch heels. “No, I’m fine. I was trying to explain to her I’m only here to do my job, not get in your pants.”
His eyes widened at my words. Huh, did he think I wanted in his pants? I told him I didn’t do musicians, how much plainer did I have to be?
“Right, I got that. I’ll take care of her, you going to the bus?”
“Yeah, I’m beat, I figured I’d find a place to sleep and leave the partying to the rock stars.”
“I’ll be there soon. I’m going to take Sweets to their bus. She’s had enough fun for one night.”
“Okay, you don’t have to come back because of me. I can figure it out.”
“I figured you could, but I don’t do the partying shit like the rest of them. I either go home or to the hotel and write. I’m still stoked from the gig and I write some of my best stuff then.”
“Really?”
“Why are you so fuckin’ surprised?”
“It doesn’t matter. Sorry. I guess I’ll see you in a few. You’d better take care of her before she falls over.”
He looked at the wobbling Sweets and nodded while I headed toward the exit and what would be home sweet home for the next two weeks.
The tour bus was huge, but I had a feeling it still wasn’t going to be big enough. Not when you added in five guys, the bus driver and me. Ugh. The driver was inside, the lights were on, and light rock playing. I knocked on the door, and he opened it up.
“Hi, I’m Cynda. I’ll be tagging along for a couple of weeks.”
“I’m Joe, the bus driver,” he said laughing. “Really I am Joe. Chaos told me you’d be coming along.”
“Hi, Joe the bus driver,” I replied smiling. He seemed like a really nice man. Probably in his fifties, balding with a round belly, he did kind of look like what you’d expect of a typical New York bus driver. “I’m Cynda the songwriter, nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too. I’m glad you have a sense of humor, you’re probably going to need it. The guys can be crazy some times.”
“I kind of figured.”
“They’re great though. I’ve driven them around locally before. I volunteered for this job.”
“You’re not getting paid?”
“No, I meant when they were looking for a driver I offered to take it. No one at home anymore since my wife passed last year, so these guys are like the kids I never had.”
