The tour bus travels down the freeway after our last show, heading toward home. It’ll be nice to sleep in my bed for the first time in… I don’t remember how long. But the idea of being home is very appealing. It’s where I think best and right now there are a few decisions that need to be made about my life.
Since leaving Bailey, I haven’t felt right. It’s not that I’m sick, I’m pretty sure I’m heartbroken even though it’s of my own doing. Ever since I told Whiskey I couldn’t stay I’ve wanted to take the words back, but haven’t found the words to do so. I really couldn’t stay, but only because of my job, not because of her or her daughter. I want to be there — or I want them here — I’m just not sure Whiskey’s willing to move to California.
I can’t sleep. I stare out the window at the passing signs, each one getting us closer to the studio which is our central drop off location. Dana, Hendrix, and Keane will go their own way, while Quinn, Elle and I will ride together to Malibu. I’m hoping Ben will be there to drive us because we’re due to arrive in the middle of the night.
Every so often my mind plays a trick on me and I think I see “Bailey ten miles” or “Prineville Next Exit” only to realize they’re actually signs for upcoming streets. That’s how you know you’re in the city besides an upswing in traffic: You’re no longer looking for towns but the right street exit to get you closer to your destination.
The bus slows down as it moves through the city streets, careful not to hit any of the parked cars along the road. When we’re about a block away, the interior lights come on, and Elle and Keane start to stir. I think I’m the only one fully awake right now, unable to sleep because my mind won’t shut off. After our last show, I packed my bags and carried them to the front of the bus. Why? I have no idea. It’s not like I can leave until Elle and Quinn are ready. Maybe it’s because I’m eager to get off this bus and start figuring out my life.
We come to a stop in the middle of the road, due to cars parked along the curb in front of the studio. Even with the streetlights, the red flashers from the tour bus are bright and somewhat mesmerizing. Our driver opens the door and I step off into the stifling night air that is Los Angeles.
The only people out right now are the transients and a few walking home from a late-night club or after party. Thankfully, no one seems to care that we’re here, which is nice.
As a group, we work to unload our equipment and get it back into the studio. We were lucky enough and grateful that 4225 West lent us their sound and lighting equipment for the tour, otherwise we probably would’ve had to rent some which would’ve lowered our paychecks in the end.
Once everything is back in place, the sun is about to rise. The sky is pink and gray as the night sky starts to burn off. I’m tired and ready for bed. Today will be nothing more than a day to sleep, do laundry, watch television and lounge around in my boxers while I take pity on myself for being alone. I should’ve taken a flight back to Bailey to surprise Whiskey, but honestly, our relationship has felt a bit off since I left.
Oh, who am I fooling? What relationship? I all but shut her out when she was telling me that she wants to try. I know trying is the next realistic step, but I want it all. I want her here, living this life with me. She’s the one who encouraged me to follow my passion, the one who believed in me as a person and yet she’s the one who isn’t here. I want her to be, but I can’t ask her to uproot her life to appease mine.
I doze off briefly on the drive to Malibu, opening my eyes as the Pacific Ocean comes into view. It’s fucking gorgeous and a sight that everyone needs to see once in their lifetime.
Nola greets us at the door and inside, the house smells like breakfast. As much as I want to go hide in my room, I sit at the table and eat with the two people gracious enough to let me live in their house. After I finish, I help clean up the kitchen and finally make it down to my room. I pull my curtains to the side, open the sliding glass door, and flop on my bed like a fish out of water.
Just as I’m about to fall asleep, my phone rings. I’m tempted to let it go to voicemail and shut the damn thing off when I look at the number. I don’t recognize it, but I know it’s a North Carolina area code. My first thought is that Whiskey’s in trouble for doing something to Harvey’s house again, but then I think she wouldn’t do anything stupid like that because of her daughter. Still, I can’t help but wonder.
“Hello?” My voice is groggy, a combination of sleep and exhaustion.
“Oh shit, did I wake you up? Fuck, sorry. I can call back.”
“Um… no. I’m up. Who is this?”
“Huh? Oh, it’s Dhara. Sorry, I figured you’d have my number.” Why the hell would I have her number?
“Is Whiskey okay?”
“She’s fine, why?”
“I don’t know, you’re calling me out of the blue and… well, we aren’t exactly the best of friends.”
Dhara sighs. “True, but I figured since you’re nabbing pictures off my profile, we might as well have a little chat.” I smile at what she says about the pictures. That means Whiskey told her and the fact that she’s talking about me is a good thing.
“Anyway, I’m calling because you left our girl heartbroken.”
That makes two of us.
“And I think that if you’re in love with her, like I have a feeling you are, you need to do something to show her.”
“And I’m guessing you’re going to give me an idea of what that ‘something’ should be?”
“You’re damn straight I am.”
I get out of bed and go sit on my little patio. I can’t see the ocean from here, but I can hear it. It’s peaceful and the waves are much more active here than they were when Quinn and I tried to surf in North Carolina.
“Bottom line, she wants to come see you while you’re on break, but she can’t afford to fly her and Evelyn out, pay for a hotel and all that — and there’s no way in hell she’s going to ask you to pay for them, so you’re going offer.”
“I am?” Don’t get me wrong, I’d d
o anything Whiskey asks me.