Rob’s quiet sanctity was interrupted by his sudden fall backwards. If it weren’t for Jane, Rob’s head would’ve smacked the back of the asphalt. Also, if it wasn’t for Jane, the entire incident could’ve been avoided. So, in a way, everything evened out. 
He pulled himself up as he felt Jane push against his back, helping him back upright. Quickly, he flung the notebook he held under one of the front seats, hoping Jane hadn’t noticed. By his luck, she already had. She had climbed back into the driver’s seat, not waiting for Rob to move. He saw her hand swing around to his legs, grabbing her own bag. Instead of leaving…Rob waited. His eyes closed, and he heard the shuffling of items in a bag. The dry sound of fabric sliding against skin. And for the first time he could remember…Rob wanted to see. [i]Fuck,[/i] he thought to himself. [i]What am I, thirteen?[/i] Before temptation could prove itself victorious, Jane turned to face him after she had changed. [i]”I found us a place to sleep tonight. Won’t be a party or anything.”[/i] Her voice felt sort of fragile as she said it. There was no doubt in Rob’s mind that she had seen something she shouldn’t have seen; something Rob knew he had done out of confusion and anger than any real lust. They were alone, here. In this moment. It was quiet, and honest, and ultimately real. The stage, the crowds…none of it mattered. Not to two twenty-somethings in a shitty black van, waiting for their set to start. “Let’s uh…let’s talk sometime,” Rob said, staring ahead to the other side of the car, avoiding her gaze. “Sometime later.” [i]”I guess I’ll see you in there, yeah?”[/i] “Yeah,” Rob said, waiting until Jane had long since left the van; long since her footsteps pattered off into the roar of the crowd some ways away. As he was putting his journal back into it’s bag, Rob watched Sam approach. “Alright,” Sam said, feigning a casual entrance and standing beside the van, “what’s going on?” “Nothing,” Rob shot back, “but I’m sorry about earlier at the mall. That was rude of me—“ 
“That’s not what I’m asking about?” The two band members looked to each other. Normally, Sam was the most distant from Rob, and vice versa. The two never really agreed on the sound for the bad. For the most part, Sam was happy with the directions things were headed—so long as he was still able to write his own riffs, and refrain from being neglected to rhythm. Perhaps that was the issue. Sam was all about being [i]above[/i] rhythm, whereas Rob embraced it. Now…after things with Jane had gotten all fucked up, it was Sam who seemed closer than Jane. “Austin?” Rob threw out there, knowing who had put Sam up to this. Sam nodded. Knowing him, if he had his way, he’d let the two work it out on their own time. Austin was smart enough to know that it wasn’t going to work. Not this time. “Look,” Rob started,” I’m just sort of…I dunno. Fucked up in the head about everything. I’m not trying to mess up what we have. It’s just the single, the tour…last night? I feel off.” “Like something’s missing?” Sam asked. Rob thought of the words hastily scrawled out on the pages tucked away in his bag. 
“Like I’ve been denying something,” he responded. “And I really am sorry about the mall thing.” “Dude, if you thought that really bothered me, you don’t know me.” Sam turned to leave. “At and least [i]admit[/i] you have feelings? It’s not just Jane that’s messing things up.” [i]It’s probably not her at all,[/i] Rob thought as he saw the guitarist leave. [i]It’s me.[/i] [hr] Sound check was a blur. 
Rob walked on stage and quickly did his thing; hitting each instrument, telling the sound guy to crank the kick, playing a few notes to prove it…just like the show before this, and every show before that. After he finished, he walked off and smoked the rest of his pack of cigarettes from earlier that day, standing around the loading section of the parking lot claimed by the festival. Looking off into the Texan desert surrounding El Paso, Rob felt the distinct feeling of wanting to claim the nearest car. The camino near him would’ve done nicely. 
He’d drive off, down the nearest highway, and wouldn’t stop. Somewhere along the endless highway, he’d decide just what to do. [i]And why was everything so confusing?[/i] Rob questioned himself. This was unlike him. He was a forward guy, normally. He was always direct; when he wanted something, he’d ask for it. When he had a thought about the band of the direction, he’d say it. And now…he wasn’t really sure what he wanted. Maybe that was the problem. If he could just get some time alone…just to [i]talk[/i] with h— “Jack Pennie?” a voice came from behind Rob. He turned to see a crew member, dressed in all black. Her blond hair was tied back tightly, and she had a sort of suppressed smirk on her face. “Rob,” he said. “Oh, shit,” she said, smiling, “sorry. Should’ve known. Anyways, you’re on in ten minutes.” “You work for the festival?” He asked. She shook her head. “I’m a Roadie for [i]Vulture,[/i]” she said. Vulture was a band at a few of the festivals In Bloom had been playing with; they were a much bigger band, and usually headlined a few of the gigs. Rob wasn’t surprised they had gotten roadies with them. “Shouldn’t you be helping them out?” Rob asked. “I checked the schedule. Load in for Vulture is in ten minutes,” “Then we’re both were we shouldn’t be,” she said. “I’m Anna.” “Rob,” he said, moving forward and shaking her hand. He turned and began heading to the stage. “I’ll catch you in Dallas, right? Next stop on our tour.” “We’ll be there, too,” Anna said, turning around towards a large sleeper bus. Vulture’s, no doubt. “Good luck Rob.” “Good luck, Anna.” Rob ran back, made his way to the stage, and quietly stood off to the side, ready to get the show over with. As if he didn’t have enough to worry about. As he looked to Jane, he only hoped they would confront each other soon. From this perspective, it seemed that the band fell into the balance with these things. Rob closed his eyes, felt the roar of the crowd, and prepared once again for another show. [i]Let’s get this over with.[/i]