After making sure the guys didn’t need her, Jane slipped inside the venue to get herself a drink. The inside of the dimly lit establishment was fairly large, housing two bars and a decent sized stage. The AC was blowing at maximum power, but that didn't help cool the accumulated body heat from the large number of patrons inside. An enclosed outdoor area was located in the back, also of fair size, which had a tiki bar wedged in the corner. The crowd was roaring as they waited for the next set to start, and Jane weaved her way outside so that she could order a beer. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned around to see a group of girls standing behind her.

“Are you Jane? From In Bloom?”
The question caught her off guard. “Uh, yes. Yes. Hi,” she was confused. Did they work here? Did they need something from her?
“We love your new song. We all bought the CD!” one of the girls spoke, and all four of them held up their purchase in their hands.
“Wow, thank you. Means a lot,” Jane nodded and smiled before leaving the group and making her way to the bar outside. She still was not feeling like her usual extroverted self, so she kept her eyes low until she was asked what she wanted from a deep voice.

“Blue Moon, please,” she said as she extracted a crumpled wad of cash front her woven bag. Jane looked up to see the blonde bartender, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties, eyeing her as if he had known her.
“You’re Jane right?” He smiled as he pushed the beer to her side of the bar. “I’m Mark. That’s Sarah over there.” He pointed to a dark haired girl who was serving someone else a drink, and answered to her name being called with a smile to Jane. “We’re, um, big fans,” he began to laugh. “Of your band and all, but… mainly you.”
Jane nodded politely until the meaning of his words hit her, making her eyes widen nearly causing her to choke on her beer. “Jesus. They’re forward in Texas, huh?” she chuckled and caught eyes with Sarah down the bar.
“You could say that,” Mark replied, smirking. “Well, if you guys need a place to stay tonight, you can crash at our place.”
Jane returned his smirk. “I’ll let the guys know. Thanks.”
She paid him for the drink and began to weave her way back through the bar to head to the van, when she was stopped a few other times to sign CDs and to take pictures. ”This is fucking insane,” Jane kept thinking to herself until she made it out of the bar finally. “Fuck,” she cursed in relief to not be surrounded by people anymore.

She had dreamed this kind of recognition since the 13-year-old Jane saw the music video for Out Here All Night by Damone, and she would sing in front of the mirror and work on her "stage presence" for hours. So much had changed since then, but the memory always made her smile. Jane couldn’t have imagined a week ago them receiving this type of attention. Her predictions about the single, though, were entirely true. They had fans other than their friends or the regulars that attended their events. They were receiving money for playing. They were getting offers for threesomes in return for a place to crash. It was exhilarating – to Jane anyway – and she planned on soaking in every bit of it that she could.

A change of outfit was needed before the show began, so she decided to go into the van when Rob nearly fell out of the door she opened. “Holy shit, Rob, I didn’t even see you,” she grunted as she helped him back up to the position he was in. Her eyes landed on the notebook in his lap, but instead of testing their newfound truce, she didn’t mention it. “Uh, mind if I use the van to change really quick?” She closed the door and sat in the driver’s seat instead of waiting for him to move and reached around near Rob’s legs to grab her bag. In the location he was sitting, she knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything, so after checking the road in front of her, she lifted the black shirt off her body and replaced it with a form-fitting gray one and put on a large, red and black flannel over it, keeping the buttons undone.

Jane pulled down the mirror and stared at herself for a moment. She looked exactly how tired and stoned she figured she would. She put a finger up to her face and touched her freckled cheeks and nose, staring at herself for a moment, before shutting the mirror again and turned around to Rob. “I found us a place to sleep tonight. Won’t be a party or anything,” she sighed as turned her attention back to the road in front of them. “I guess I’ll see you in there, yeah?” Jane hopped out of the van and reentered the venue, where she was bombarded by more people introducing themselves and taking pictures.

Sound check was in 15 minutes, so that was her cue to try to squeeze in another beer or two before she was needed. Instead of trying to make her way back outside to Mark and Sarah, she took a seat next to Austin at the bar inside.
“Are you and Rob cool now?” Austin swiveled the stool to face her. “This morning was weird.”
Jane sighed. “Yeah, we’re cool. I just had a bad night.” Her finger circled the top of the bottle, avoiding Austin’s glare which nearly burnt a hole right through her.
“Jane, I’ve known you for a while now. Plus, I saw you last night. You were fine until you walked into Adrianna’s room,” he said lowly. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, or with Rob, but please don’t fuck up what we have going on. We’re finally getting the attention we’ve always wanted, and I don’t want something stupid like your feelings breaking up the band.”
She was going to rebuttal and tell him nothing was happening, but Austin always had a way of picking up on everything happening behind the scenes, so she just nodded, and he placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently.

This was already getting messy. Whatever “this” was.

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.

Fuck, he thought to himself. What am I, thirteen?

Before temptation could prove itself victorious, Jane turned to face him after she had changed.

”I found us a place to sleep tonight. Won’t be a party or anything.”

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 guess I’ll see you in there, yeah?”

“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 above 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 admit you have feelings? It’s not just Jane that’s messing things up.”

It’s probably not her at all, Rob thought as he saw the guitarist leave. It’s me.

---

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.

And why was everything so confusing? 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 talk 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 Vulture,” 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.

Let’s get this over with.

After the routine sound check and a moment to regroup, the show began with the line up only slightly altered. Jane's two picks were at the end of the set this time - one, of course, was the single which would be played last- and the five songs beforehand were picked by Austin, Sam, and Rob. She enjoyed changing the set list; her mentality for it was to keep them from getting bored night after night.

The band played without a hitch, and Jane noticed the crowd singing along to the songs, the songs made before the single. She was impressed, but mostly flattered, and it was enough of a confidence boost to push her through the first five songs. Hell, she was moving around just like the old days, before she grew exhausted of the music they were making. Jane would say a few words to the crowd to either keep them pumped or make them laugh, which was one of her favorite parts of being on stage.

Only one thing was bothering her during their set. Rob. It wasn't that he was playing well, he always played well, but he didn't add his normal flare. He played what was necessary to keep the set moving. And even though Jane was grateful for that amount of effort, it wasn't enough to satisfy her. How could she make him happy with a crowd of people watching them?

At the end of the fifth song, she looked to Austin and Sam and nodded so that she'd have their attention, and then Jane looked to Rob and crossed her eyes goofily.

"Fuck it," she breathed into the mic, "I'm gonna go off course here. This song's a cover. It's called Weatherman." She took a moment to catch her breath before continuing. "Haven't sung this shit in years, so I might die," she announced with a smirk.
The crowd responded with a collective "Wooooo!"
"What, you guys want me to die?" She laughed as she removed the sweaty strands of hair from her face with her fingers. "That's rude as fuck."

She nodded to Sam before he began to play the opening notes which turned the switch of nostalgia on in Jane's mind. Rob had always told her how much he loved the way her voice sounded when she sang it, and that was the reason she always covered it whenever the opportunity presented itself, even though it killed her throat.

Jane began to rock her body as Rob's drums began to sound off, and a wide grin took over her face.

"Come on!" Jane screamed into the microphone, the opening line, and the crowd began to cheer. She danced around the stage a little more and taking a swig from her beer that sat next to the microphone stand.

"His skin was soft as leather
I'm the weatherman
No one else more dedicated
I'm the weatherman"

Her voice was cracking a bit, but to anyone's ears but hers, it blended in with the general raspiness of Jane's voice.

And then their was the chorus:

"So go for the kill"

Fuck, it had been a while.

"Cause no one else cares"

Her voice did what it was supposed to: breaking into a scream when Jane forced it enough. God, it hurt though.

"Go for the kill, Go for the kill"

She went for the trill at the end of the line, which always made her and Rob crack up, and after it was repeated another three times, she looked to him and laughed.

The rest of the song was played to perfection, and Jane didn't know if she had it in her to do another one. But she had to, it was the single.

A slightly tired version of the song later, she thanked the cheering crowd and exited the stage and rested her hands on her knees as she crouched over to catch her breath. A breathy "fuck" escaped her as her lungs desperately tried to make up for lost air. That was when Sam approached her.

"God, I never thought we'd do Weatherman again. That was fucking nuts," he exclaimed as he nudged her, nearly knocking her over.
She grinned and wiped the sweat from her forehead as she stood up straight. "Yeah, it was cool."

Jane hoped it would help Rob get out of the funk he was in. It was killing her. She missed her best friend.

Mark and Sarah approached her soon after, and they exchanged numbers and provided Jane with the address to their house. God, what was Jane getting herself into?

A shower. A bed to sleep in.

Jane smiled to herself at her thoughts.

And two attractive strangers.

Instead of waiting around to see what Rob thought, she picked up some of their equipment and went back to the van, loaded what she carried in the trailer, and slumped into the driver's seat of the van. Jane was sick of the unspoken drama that had been unfolding, and she was ready to relax, and most importantly, to get laid. She wasn't sure if it was the excitement from the show or the tension happening between her and Rob, but she desperately wanted to get back to Mark and Sarah's house to distract her from her thoughts.

She cursed to herself as she lit a cigarette and waited on the guys to get in the van. The heat trapped in the flannel she wore hit her like a brick, and Jane held the cigarette in her mouth as she clawed at it and threw it in the back. Looking down, she noticed the sweat that had formed from her neck to about halfway down her chest on the tight gray shirt. Maybe gray wasn't a great idea.

“It’s called Weatherman,”

Wait…what?

They were playing Weatherman? Rob couldn’t help but suppress a smile. That song wasn’t something they played regularly. Or really…ever. To have Jane bust it out like this was really appreciated. Kicking into the odd, rhythmic tom fill that bleed into the song, Rob slammed the touring kit with everything he had, not stopping until Jane’s scream filled the air and the crowd was ready for it.

Rob watched as Sam and Austin pulsed to the beat, slamming their heads down every two beats to the song. In a sort of uncontrollable fashion, Rob followed suit, enjoying the tempo, feeling the music, and playing as loud as possible. Playing with this much vigor would normally kill a good drummer; he’d run out of steam two songs in. His fingers would bleed after two more. But…for Weatherman?

Yeah. It was worth it.

By the time the song had ended and the single came on, Rob had been reduced to sweat. By the time the bridge came on, one of his sticks snapped in half with a sickening crack only he could hear. He quickly switched out to a fresh stick without missing a beat. By the time the song ended, he stood up, and ran out of the throne and to the front of the stage, by Austin. He lobbed the sticks into the crowd (overhand, so as to not pummel someone) and waved slightly as he walked off, stage-right.

“Good set,” Anna said as he passed her. She had her hands on a box labeled VULTURE in large, sprayed-on letters; the band would be taking the stage immediately after them. In between two fingers was a scrap of paper, with a number on it. She handed it to him as he passed. “If the road gets lonely…” she trailed off. Rob gave her a smile and hastily typed the number into his phone. A good what-if, he supposed.

As he trailed off, he saw Jane talk to two other people near the stage. Must’ve been the tenants for tonight. He didn’t think much of it and went to wait in the van. After Jane arrived, covered in sweat, like himself, they headed off soon after.

“Thanks,” he said, as they drove. “For Weatherman. I appreciate you…doing that, for me.”

Words caught in Rob’s mouth. He thought it best just to keep his mouth shut.

Was he…nervous? Why?

---

On the car ride back, Rob slid out his phone, throwing a blind text to Anna.

How’d the show go?

It was three minutes before a response came:

Still going. Long-ass set. See you soon?

Rob thought for a moment, before:

Absolutely.

---

They arrived at the night’s lodging, a little ways out of El Paso. Out here, the desert was in every part of the air; words rang in Rob’s ears from everyone he knew from these parts: It’s a dry heat.

Rob about rolled out of his seat, marching his way to the back and grabbing his bag. As he passed Jane, he stopped, for just a moment.

“Hey, if you wanted to talk…” Rob said, letting his words die off. God, why was this so hard? “Anyways. Have a good night.”

Rob moved straight to the house, exchanged pleasantries with their hosts, and went straight into the designated room. He entered the shower, let the water pour over him, and hoped he’d never have to get back out.

Rob’s words didn’t register with Jane until he had already made his way into the house, leaving her standing by the van wrapped up in her thoughts. “Good night,” she called out, not sure if he heard her. What could Rob want to talk about? Why she had to nearly blow out her vocal chords so that he’d be happy on stage? Why he’s treated her like a stranger lately? Jane was over it. If she had to try this hard to continue their friendship, was it really worth it? At first, she thought so, but now, she wasn’t so sure.

After grabbing her big hobo bag out of the van, Jane entered the house and followed the noise until she made it to the kitchen to be greeted by Mark and Sarah. Her eyes wandered around the two-bedroom, cozy home, but they eventually landed back on the couple. “Nice place, thanks for letting us stay,” she smiled politely. Jane didn’t feel like tipping off the guys on what she was planning on doing that night, so she remained neutral. Looking down at her shirt, she laughed. “Do you guys mind if I shower?”

Sarah walked over to the three guys in their living room. “The guest bedroom has a bathroom, along with one in the hall. There’s a bed in there, and the couch is a pull out,” she announced as she pointed to it, and then her attention turned back to Jane.
“You can shower in our room,” the young woman said quietly, and Jane felt heat rise to her cheeks, turning them red.
“Yeah, thanks,” she replied, looking down and grabbing her bags before entering the couple’s room.

She set her bags down on the floor as she observed it briefly and eventually made her way into the bathroom. It was nice – a roman tub, granite counters, and a standalone shower all in different corners – and Jane sighed in relief at the sight. After stripping down, she got in the shower and turned the water faucet to the hottest setting she could handle, and dirt from her feet began to swirl around the bottom of the shower like a whirlpool. Her long, blonde, and now tangled hair took extra effort to get clean and conditioned, and after about half an hour, Jane reluctantly left the warmth and made her way in front of the bathroom mirror.

After her towel dropped, Jane took a minute to look at her reflection. Tanned skin wrapped around her thin frame, littered with scars and a few, sun-worn tattoos. Gravity had not affected her yet; she figured it was because gravity really had nothing to pull on. She made peace with not being very blessed in the chest region a long time ago, but sometimes, she wondered what she’d look like if she got them done, or at least wore a push up bra – but Jane shook her head at the thought. That went against everything she believed in.

A deep breath later, Jane quietly opened the door and was greeted by Mark and Sarah sitting on their bed. “I, uh,” she laughed, “left my clothes out here.”
Mark stood up. “You don’t need them right now.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, Jane emerged from the room quietly and made her way through the pitch-black house to the backyard, taking a seat on one of the patio chairs, wearing a large black t-shirt and a pair of boyshorts. The relief she received was brief, and her mind had already turned back to her and Rob. Her ear buds were in, and she hit “shuffle” on her phone. Can’t Wait by CHON came on first, and Jane wanted to change it despite the correlation of the song’s lyrics and how she felt, but instead, it continued, and she hummed along quietly.

She didn’t want to lose her best friend, but maybe she already was. He didn’t seem interested in the band anymore, let alone their friendship, and maybe it would be for the better if she stopped trying to force it on him. Jane would probably have to tell him that though, because it didn’t seem like the tension was going to go away on its own.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, and her head leaned on one hand, while the other repeatedly delivered the cigarette to her mouth. Maybe she shouldn’t have slept with them. Jesus, what was wrong with her? Now she was regretting her sexual conquests? She groaned as she tried to get herself to stop thinking about it all, deciding to lean her head back and close her eyes after she put out the cigarette. Jane didn’t want to go back in the room to Mark and Sarah, and the house was too dark to see where everyone else was sleeping, so the wicker, cushioned chair seemed to be her best bet.

Eventually Rob climbed back out of the shower, and threw on a pair of sweatpants, before re-entering the guest bedroom. Out here, Sam and Austin were both waiting for him.

“What is this, an intervention?” Rob joked, reaching into his bag and pulling out his phone cable. But his bandmates were less than amused. Austin walked over, picked up Rob’s bag, and handed it back to its owner.

“After yesterday?” he said, “Yeah. You’re sleeping on the pull-out.”

Rob laughed. “Yeah, I guess I deserve it. But you forgot something. Jane’s on the pull out.”

Sam and Austin gave each other a worried look. Rob’s smile slowly dissipated. “What?” he asked. “There’s only two bedrooms, right? Obviously she’ll be on the pull out.”

“Then where is she now?” Sam asked. Rob thought for a moment again. No…really? She couldn’t be—

Rob ran out into the living room, the kitchen, and saw the closed door into the master bedroom. No Jane to be found. Quickly, he made his way back to the guest room before he could hear anything. “I don’t want to be a door away from…that.” He said, but Sam and Austin wouldn’t budge.

“It’s never bothered you before,” Sam said. “So why does it now?”

Without answering, Rob grabbed his things and walked out into the living room. He put his headphones in and threw on the heaviest track he could find while he pulled out the bed within the couch: Nine Inch Nails - March of the Pigs.

It was an old track he used to listen to to play along on drums. The tempo was lethal, the key signature changed twice every four bars, but most importantly…it was angry as fuck. In his high school days, this sort of music defined him. And now, it was loud and angry enough to cover anything coming out of that master bedroom. On his knees, he softly tapped out the rhythm, counting down the endless pattern, counting the beat off in his head:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 |2 2 3 4 5 6 7 |3 2 3 4 5 6 7 |1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8|

---

Rob let the rest of the album play out as he tried to sleep, having cut off every light in the house and constantly tossed and turned on the old, lumpy mattress.

His phone vibrated the bed towards the end of the record:

10:45, Anna: Fell asleep yet?

10:48, Rob: Not yet.

10:49, Anna: I can’t either. We’re somewhere between El Paso and Dallas. The bus won’t stop shaking! lol

10:51, Rob: This couch probably isn’t much better.

10:53, Anna: …Jane kick you off the bed? Haha

10:58, Rob: Jane and I aren’t seeing each other.

10:59, Anna: Ooff, no need to be so formal! We’re all friends here! And you can’t blame me for assuming. You two looked like an old married couple today.

11:04, Rob: The road is hard. Sometimes, we all fight. I’m sure the Vulture guys do the same thing. Rich fucks.

11:05, Anna: And you’re poor enough NOT to justify it! Especially when your front woman fucks around :p

11:07, Rob: I’m assuming that’s pretty well-known?

11:09, Anna: Nope, I was just assuming it, but you confirmed it. :)

11:10, Rob: We probably shouldn’t talk about that.

11:12, Anna: You’ll lulled me to sleep anyways. Damn, I wish I had you every night. Good Night, Rob.

11:13, Rob: Good Night.

---

Rob tossed the phone and headphones aside and rolled back over. After another ten minutes of trying to sleep, Rob heard footsteps slowly move through the house. After being in the dark this long, the house was no longer pitch-black, but instead a room of shadows. He saw what he assumed to be Jane’s silhouette move through heading out to the patio. As she did, his own words rang through his head.

If you wanted to talk…

It seemed as if she didn’t.

Rob rolled over, leaving an empty space on the pull-out next to him, and fell asleep after another five minutes.

The air was still and warm, the neighborhood quiet, and the sky clear. It was 2:00 am in El Paso.

Jane awoke abruptly, not sure where she was until she thoroughly observed her moon-lit surroundings, and then slumped in the chair as she rubbed her eyes. “Shit.” Her neck and back were sore from the position she was sleeping in, and after noting that it was still dark out, she searched the area to see if a better option was available. Nothing. She sighed as she stood up and headed for the patio door, which creaked as she slowly opened it, and her eyes, which had adjusted to the darkness, landed on the spot next to Rob on the pull out couch. “Of course,” she mumbled as she tip-toed over. But instead of laying down, she stared at him and the bed for a moment.

Her and Rob had shared a bed so many times, she couldn’t keep count. They’d stay up into the wee hours of the morning – or sometimes all night – writing music, watching movies, and getting high, and eventually would pass out together, either at his house or her's. They would even accidentally cuddle once in a while, waking up and erupting in laughter when they saw themselves. It was nothing ever spoken of or given a second thought; it was just another night for them. And now, as she stared at the bed in the middle of the stranger's living room, it all seemed like it may have been just a dream rather than actual memories. Now, everything was just so… awkward. Tense. Different.

A frown took over Jane’s face as she slowly laid down next to him and pulled the sheet over her, her back facing his. She doubted the night she had was a secret, and she knew that when she woke up the next morning, things between them might be worse. But, at least for a moment, the first moment in a long time, they were together without any tension. Jane appreciated that, even though Rob was asleep. After staring aimlessly at the wall for a few minutes, she wiggled a bit to get into a comfortable position, and soon enough, her eyelids became heavy with drowsiness, and she drifted to sleep.

At one point in the night, she had woken up when she received a kick in the leg. Jane popped up and looked behind her, to see that Rob had rolled over towards her, and she smiled faintly as she laid back down to enjoy the warmth of his body behind her. Maybe it could be like old days again. Maybe.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane’s eyes fluttered open and looked out the window to see the first sign of light outside. Why did she always have to wake up so early? She instantly became aware of the familiar, rhythmic breathing behind her, and the events of the night before flooded her memory quickly. She wasn’t looking forward to him waking up, possibly scolding her for her actions or just being cold to her again, so instead of rising, she stayed in bed and stared out the window. The sun was painting the sky a pink color and illuminating the quiet house, and birds outside began to chirp back and forth. After a deep breath, Jane did something. Possibly something stupid. She gently backed her body up slightly until she was making contact with Rob, and she held her breath for a moment until she was certain it didn’t wake him up, then she closed her eyes again and fell back asleep.

Rob’s eyes remained shut as the last of the night’s dreams faded away from him. Slowly, the senses came to him, and the first thing he felt was heat.

There was a vibrant warmth radiating in the space in front of him, and it permeated him from his face to his feet. His face felt the soft prickling of hair grazing across it, and the texture was hair that was not his own. He became aware of his arm, one sprawled out, under a pillow in front of him, and the other was draped over, holding a body against himself, finding refuge by grasping their breast, holding them close. In his moment, he also became aware of his own excitement, and as his eyes opened, he saw blonde hair, tangling ahead of him, pulling him in, releasing their scent.

And it was beautiful.

In this fleeting moment he felt closure, he felt peace. In his mind, amidst the chaos and noise of the album he had heard before he slept, remembered the piece locked in the middle, between the noise and rage. And it was warm, and it was good. Nine Inch Nails - A Warm Place

He breathed in, deeply, before slowly exhaling, watching the hairs surrounding his face rattle and shake from the gust. Slowly, the world around seeped into his moment. Thoughts of the tour. Thoughts of Jane. Thoughts of her…infidelity?

No. That wasn’t right. Jane wasn’t his to have. She never was. He was always there, sure, but her life wasn’t his to choose. And as they slowly drifted apart, from each other and from their collective past, she was less and less a part of his life and more a part of her own.

The past was so sure, so solid. There wasn’t a need for discussions, for intensity. For anger. Rob knew exactly what he was to Jane, and he felt that she felt the same. But as the years passed, there was this undeniable confusion of roles. An identity crisis. Somewhere between the past and where he lie, on this couch, on this morning, the roles had long since faded. And there was no way to have stopped it from happening.

Rob didn’t know how Jane felt of him. It wasn’t something he had ever questioned before, but he sure was questioning it now. All he knew was that he was growing an attachment; a dangerous connection, and that the longer he denied it, the longer he denied himself.

“What have we become?” He said softly, barely louder than a whisper.

Rob released Jane from his grip,and softly turned over, hoping against his better judgement that whatever the night had become, it was remain as so. He grabbed his phone, checking the time, and knew they had to leave in an hour. Looking around, no one had awoken. Hoping not to accept their host, Rob slid out of the bed as softly as he could, and walked out to the patio, taking his Newports with him.

As the harsh, rich scent of tobacco hit his nostrils, he tried to forget what had happened. Maybe that was for the best. Even if he knew, he most likely wouldn’t.

Jane was awoken as the warm arm that was wrapped around body moved, but she kept her eyes shut, pretending she was asleep until he went on the patio. He was shirtless, only wearing a pair of sweats, and for a moment, Jane caught herself staring at his muscled back. ”Here we go,” she thought to herself as she swung the legs over her bed, stood up, and straightened out the large black shirt she was wearing. It covered enough to satisfy the other occupants of the house – such things didn’t bother Jane – and she slowly exited the living room out on the patio.

“Mind if I have one?” her raspy voice muttered as a somber expression made its way on her face. After she lit the cigarette, she sat down next to Rob and turned to him. “I, uh, tried to fall asleep on that chair last night,” she smirked as she pointed to the one he was sitting on. “Wasn’t good. Sorry I crashed the couch.” Her gaze made its way to the green grass that carpeted the back yard, and a deep breath and a puff of the Newport later, she abruptly turned her whole body to him and placed her hands on the chair’s arms, and Jane began the talk that she had played out hundreds of times in her head already.

“Look, Rob,” she started, clearing her throat, “I can’t take it anymore. You’ve been my best friend for years, and now... I feel annoying. Dumb for trying to force my friendship on you.” She shook her head as she took another drag. “It fucking sucks, man. I understand you don’t like the single. I get it, I do, but, I never would’ve wrote the fucking song if I knew…” Jane trailed off and looked away from him as she felt tears coming to her eyes, and whispered, “fuck,” as she tried to choke them back. A lump had grown in her throat.

She stood up and extinguished her cigarette. “I’m sick of things being shitty between us. If it’s something I did, tell me. Let’s bury this. Because the last thing I wanna do is spend the next two months with someone who doesn’t want to be around me.” She turned around as she felt the next wave of tears trying to make their escape, and her eyes squeezed shut as she put her fingers up to the bridge of her nose. Without turning around, she made her final statement.

“I miss my best friend. If you can’t be that anymore, don't let me wait around like this.”

Jane walked back in the house and into Sarah and Mark’s room to grab her stuff, and luckily, she didn’t wake them. Her next stop was the bathroom in the hall, where she changed into leggings and a Code Orange shirt cut into a muscle tee and brushed her teeth, and as she was about to leave, the door swung open. Austin.

“Hey, J. I have to say, you getting laid more than me is starting to bother me,” he smiled as he leaned on the door frame.
Jane chuckled. “Well for starters, you wanna work on your sex appeal,” she smirked as she knocked his arm that was supporting him, almost causing him to fall.
“Seriously though. Have you talked to Rob, yet?” he asked quietly.
“I, uh, I kinda talked at him,” she looked down and scratched the back of her neck. “I don’t know what he wants from me anymore. It’s like he hates me now.”
“Aw, come here,” Austin said as he hugged her. “Don’t stress about it. Things will get better.” In Austin’s mind, he knew that wasn’t true, but seeing Jane this way tugged as his heart a bit. “I think he’s just got a lot going on right now, okay?”
Jane nodded as she pulled away from him. “Thanks, Austin.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane waited in the driver’s seat of the van as everyone loaded their things and scrolled through the infinite list of songs on her phone, but she ultimately chose Dope Calypso by Violent Solo, playing a shitty version of the drums her steering wheel as she sang along. This song always got made her feel better.

Austin climbed in behind her seat and began to sing in her ear behind her, which made her smile. When the chorus hit, they sang loudly in unison.

“Now, I'm gonna go outside”

And at that moment,

”Nothing’s gonna save us, nothing’s gonna save us.”

Jane made a promise to herself to not let Rob’s bullshit get to her anymore. She was done wasting her energy on unrequited feelings. It hurt her too much. Their next stop was Dallas, Texas - a nine hour drive - and as everyone entered the van, she lit a cigarette and backed it out slowly from the drive way and got on the road.

Rob felt as Jane came outside next to him, and silently offered the cigarette she had requested.

“It’s alright,” he croaked out after she apologized for being on the couch. She continued on, clearly stressed, and tried her best to say what she had to say with a clear conscience. He couldn’t fault her for that.

But her cause of concern was on all the wrong things. How could she think things were about the single anymore? As if it was the single that had made him feel this way. Somehow through his actions, she seemed to think he hated her. That he was distant to her. And while that was true for now, it was only a fleeting moment; a passing haze while Rob tried to hard to decide for himself what it was he wanted. And a part of him knew that it was cruel for him to act in this manner. He had heard the complaints hundreds of times from friends and family. You’re distant, Rob. You’re so…cold. I never know who I’m talking to…

The list would go on into infinity if he had let it. A lifetime of being told to express his feelings had left him in purgatory, unsure of whether to act against his own nature to please the masses and lie to himself, or prove them right by just being who he had always been. It was a big fucking mess and things weren’t easy to fix.

In this moment, Rob chose to be true to himself, and let Jane clear her thoughts of him before turning away from him, her last words stinging as they struck him. She seemed to have a habit of saying her peace and leaving, uninterested in the response. Either that, or Rob seemed to have a habit of refusing to chase people down. To tell them what he had ever meant.

As he turned inside, he dressed himself and loaded his stuff into the car, quietly sitting in the backseat and putting earbuds in, hoping the others wouldn’t bother him. For once he was choosing not to so much as talk anymore, and just wanted to be alone. Was it so much to ask for? To be alone? Never once would anyone let him be himself. Just let him fucking think.

---

2:29, Rob: How’s Dallas?

2:41, Anna: Much more boring without the other bands here. We got a head start but nothing to do now that we’re here.

2:42, Rob: Well THAT wasn’t subtle.

2:45, Anna: Being subtle never got me anywhere. It certainly wouldn’t have gotten me this far.

2:47, Rob: What time does Vulture go on?

2:49, Anna: 9. Right after your set at 8. What are you doing after?

2:52, Rob: I dunno yet. Most likely crashing somewhere in town.

2:55, Anna: Vulture doesn’t leave Dallas until tomorrow afternoon…

2:59, Rob: I’ll be in touch.

---

After another few hours, Sam’s father called Rob, of all people. He was an accountant, and tended to the bands finances in his spare time since none of them had been any good with the money. Normally, Harold (or Hard-ass, as he was sometimes called) had bad news, told them to stop spending anything, or that they couldn’t have a certain thing. Today, he was actually much cheerier than usual.

“Look, Sam won’t answer his phone—“ He said on the other side of the phone, “but your streaming numbers for the album is through the roof.”

“Like what, a couple thousand?” Rob asked.

“Like, seven hundred thousand on the single alone.”

“Excuse me?”

“Another fifty thousand on each song on the record and counting. Internet sales, CD orders—all of it’s through the roof. Either its the song, or the tour, or both, but we’ve more than paid off the loan I took out for the tour. Check your email.”

In Rob’s inbox, four confirmation emails came through for a hotel.

“Think of it as a celebratory gift,” he said. “I wanted to just do two rooms but…Sam called me earlier today. Said there were issues?”

“…yeah.”

“Well get some time away from everyone, get some rest, and fix it. Now isn’t the time to mess this up.”

---

News of the sales numbers spread quickly, and for the most part, everyone seemed excited. The mood in the van was…good, and aside from the obvious silence between Jane and Rob, the rest of the journey had gone off without a hitch. Hotel check-in was even easier, but the group barely had time to set their things down before they needed to load back up and head to the festival for load in.

“I’m sorry,” he managed to cough out to Jane, once he had a moment alone with her in the madness. “I’m not good with…I don’t know…this. Being open. Being…vulnerable. It’s not me.”

Rob scratched at his head. “You’re not annoying,” he continued. “And it’s not the single, and I’d like to believe we’re still friends and—and god…it’s such bullshit to say out loud, but it really is me. I’m just kind of fucked up in the head right now.”

He tried to grasp her shoulder, but it felt so…off. Unnatural. Like it wasn’t the way he wanted to touch her—

“Rob!” a voice called out. Rob turned to see Sam, needing some help moving a box near the van. A way out of whatever awkwardness he was creating in front of Jane. God…he just felt so small in this moment.

“I’ve gotta—“ he said, before motioning to Sam. Turning and clearly blushing, Rob ran off, leaving and quickly helping Sam.

If he could just get to tonight…if he could just get laid…if he could just sleep with someone other than Jane, to clear that godforsaken memory out of his head, holding her close to him—

Maybe that’d fix things.

The news of, not only the single, but the band getting so much attention and money was just the distraction she needed from the mess that was unfolding between her and Rob. A massive grin had been on her face since they got the call from Sam's dad. Jane hated having parents involved with their business - maybe because her mom was never involved in anything past kindergarten - but she was grateful for someone looking over their finances for them, because they would probably blow the loot on frivolous things.

Getting her own room at the hotel wasn't bad either. Although being by herself was something Jane didn't enjoy - she found being alone with her thoughts did her no good - a night away without anyone needing her, wanting her, or making her feel unwanted sounded like a hint from the universe to tone it down that night. Tripping the first night, threesome the second. She knew she wouldn't last a month on tour as such a high velocity. Maybe Austin would want to watch a movie or something. She'd invite Rob instead, but the wounds were still too fresh.

Subconsciously, Rob and Jane's tiffs that started erupting more frequently became a catalyst for her and Austin's friendship. It was strictly platonic on both sides, but Jane enjoyed his company. He was intuitive (sometimes too intuitive), funny, and most importantly, never judged Jane for her actions. If anything, he encouraged them.

"Look, dude," he mumbled as he took a bite of the sandwich he prepared in her kitchen, "we're all gonna be some dead ass fuckers in the ground. I don't know about you, but when I'm on my death bed, looking my grandchildren in the eye, and they ask me what my regrets were, I'm not gonna say 'I wish I didn't fuck that girl. Oh, I wish I didn't have that extra drink at that one show. I wish I didn't drop acid on that one hiking trip in Utah.' No! I'm gonna wish I did more of that shit!" He explained as he waved his hands in the air, causing a pickle to fly across the kitchen. "Girls have it different than guys. We're heroes for sleeping with as many people as we want, but you guys get calls 'sluts' and stuff. Especially since you like playing on both teams. Jesus, people must have a field day when they talk shit about you," he laughed as he took the last bite of the sandwich. "But, you're the type of person who will always end up doing what you want, Jane. Don't let anyone make you feel bad about that."

Jane was shaken out of the memory as she heard Rob's voice behind her, and after quickly hesitating, she turned and eyed him with a quizzical expression as he fumbled his words, which eventually turned into a smirk. Watching him squirm was proving to be enjoyable. The hand placed on her shoulder made her laugh, but she immediately covered her mouth with regret. He was at least trying... awkwardly.

But Rob was not going to get off the hook with a painfully awkward apology and a touch in the shoulder. No. The way he treated her lately tormented her. But, she promised herself to not let him chip away at her confidence anymore, so she nodded with a forced smile until he was beckoned by Sam.

"Is he blushing?" Jane thought to herself as he walked away. "Why the hell is he blushing?"

Jane spent the short amount of time hey had before the show sleeping in the plush queen sized bed in her hotel room. It was her first sober sleep in a few weeks, and her dreams made a strong comeback to make up for lost time. Images of everything - shows, the band, ex-lovers, her childhood - flashed like a montage in her mind. But of course, one image kept reoccurring through out the deep sleep she was trapped in. Rob.

She woke up angry at herself for letting him invade her her thoughts - her subconscious - and it made her begin to question what the help was happening to her. Jane never let the trivial side effects of a friendship effect her. Was there something more that she wasn't piecing together? Maybe it would do them some good to have one-on-one time.

Thank god Rob did slip into her dreams, or else she would've slept through the show. Jane dashed around the hotel room, putting on the first thing she could find: a white tank top and a pair of light denim shorts, nearly ripped to shreds, that hit right above the middle of her thigh. Jane laughed at herself as she remembered her mother's words when she first started going braless at sixteen.

"Dear Lord, Jane. Leave something to the imagination, huh? You're gonna poke an eye out."
"Mom, you didn't give me much to 'leave to the imagination,'" Jane replied is a snarl, using fingers for quotation marks.
"Small boobs will be in one day, Jane Ann Molloy. Just you wait."

Jane rushed downstairs to find Austin waiting for the other two.
"Hey," Jane quietly greeted him, "wanna get high and watch a movie tonight?"
Austin, showing exaggerated shock, nodded with a smile. "The wild and crazy, sexual deviant Jane Molloy having a quiet night in." He stretched his hands out in front of him. "I can see the tabloids already."
"Shut up," she laughed and punched him in the arm. Her thoughts flashed to inviting Rob to her room as well to hang out when a honk sounded.

Sam pulled up in the van to the front of the hotel, and Jane and Austin quickly hopped inside. "Where the fuck is Rob?" she asked as she looked out the window, squinting her eyes to see inside the hotel. "He's never late."

It was true. Rob was never late.

He had been spending the time trying desperately to drain the idea of that last conversation out of his head, and he turned once again to something he never typically did.

He had drank almost all the alcohol out of the mini-fridge.

It had started with the beers. Simple enough. Rob typically enjoyed beer when he could, but he wasn’t a heavy drinker. Those days had long faded away from him. But, eventually, the beers ran out, and there had just been so many small bottle of liquor left in the back…

His mind faded to a memory he had of the past:



It as about his senior year in high school, and it was the only time he allowed himself to get absolutely fucked up.

It was a prom afterparty, and both Rob and Jane were hosting. Their lives had been going so well at this point. The music was starting up now, and felt as if it was writing itself. Each night of the week would be spent at the others’ house. Smoking, watching films, passing out in the early hours of the morning, too tired to have changed out of their clothes.

Normally on such a night Rob would the the smart one, and would help Jane when she had taken things too far. He doubted Jane would remember it, but it was she who had to help Rob out of the room, into the bathroom, where he had puked his guts out. My god, how it smelled…

Rob blinked a few times as he heard a faint honking out of his window. He got up, and felt not bad, but…really really good. Apart from the earlier incident, he could usually function just fine under the influence. And now, in the middle of a tour, he really, truly had to.

Rob essentially ran down the steps of the hotel, and hopped into the van quickly.

“Lets do it,” he said, giving everyone a smile. A sweet, near-fuck-you smile. After what had happened earlier, it was time to play some music, to enjoy day, and to really, really enjoy the night.

---

After sound check, Rob watched as Sam nervously approached. He knew what he was going to say before he had even said it.

“Are you drunk?” Sam asked quietly. Worriedly.

“I may have had a few drinks—“ Rob got out, before doubling over in laughter. Sam nearly squirmed at the sight. “Yeah. I’m a bit drunk.”

“What the fuck, Rob?”

“Hey,” Rob said, defending himself, “when have I ever messed up a set? Ever?”

“That’s not the point,” Sam said. “Look, me and Austin are trying to stay out of it, but—“

“Yeah yeah, I need to get myself together,” Rob mocked. “I need to stop. I need to fix things. Look, can I just have one night to myself?”

“To do what, Rob?” Sam asked. His gaze appeared more and more stern as he talked, but Rob couldn’t help but think about how Sam was two years younger than him. In this moment, that fact was actually kind of hilarious.

“I dunno. Drink? Sleep? Fuck? If she can do it, I can.”

Rob smiled and tapped out a rhythm on his thighs as Sam stared incredulously.

“Who are you, man?” Sam asked. He seemed more desperate than mad. “You act like a totally different fucking person every day. Sometimes more often than that.”

“What can I say?” Rob shot back. “I’m the drummer. I’m supposed to sit back and hold everyone together while they fuck themselves up. God fucking forbid I do it myself.”

“This is pointless,” Sam conceded as he walked off.

---

The next person Rob found was Anna, who was waiting where he had told her to, by the trailer.

“I didn’t think you’d show,” she said. She let what was left in her cigarette fall from her fingertips and ground it out beneath her shoe. Rob gave her a smile and opened the trailer hitch, before taking her inside with all their stuff.

“I told you I would,” he murmured before crashing his lips into hers. She didn’t protest, and even kissed back, for just a moment, before pulling away and licking her lips.

“You’re drunk,” she said.

“I’ve only got ten more minutes,” Rob said, pulling her close. “Are you sure you want to talk me being drunk, or—“

Before Rob could finish his sentence, Anna’s lips pressed into his, and their arms wrapped around each other. Before Rob could even ask, he felt Anna’s nimble fingers unbuckling his belt.

---

He was back on stage, anew, only moments before the show was set to begin. He felt Sam and Austin’s eyes burrow into his skin, pressing into to him, but he paid it no mind. He felt great, he was ready, and he was about to perform again. What more could he want?

It was then he locked eyes with Jane, and everything stood still for a moment.

Her gaze wasn’t easy to read. Between the commotion of today, the trip, the hotel, the load in…they hadn’t really had a moment to really…look at each other. Sure, they had talked, but…look at each other?

And for once, he just couldn’t understand what she was trying to tell him. But, if he really had to guess, it was probably disappointment.

Perhaps it was no mistake that Rob had been with Anna. Perhaps it was no coincidence that the two looked so similar.

God, it all felt so freudian.

But as the stage lit up, and the band walked out, Rob did what Rob had always learned to do; he suppressed the thoughts. He sat down, counted the band off, played his heart out, and played well. The show felt as if it was a dream. A sequence of events Rob saw and reacted to but he wasn’t ever really a part of. Sure, he caught the occasional look from Sam and Austin, but suddenly, he couldn’t even read them anymore. It was as if he wasn’t even in the band. He was just filling in for another man. A better man.

And as he looked up to Jane during the single, watching her sing the same words, build up and scream the bridge, look out to all the adoring fans…he realized it was as if everything he worked wasn’t for him anymore.

It was for her.

And so he kept moving forward, put on a smile, and waited for the whole thing to end. And, as it did, he quickly loaded up his equipment, texted Anna to meet him at the hotel, and waited in the van for the others.

“You guys did great,” Rob said, speaking truthfully, as they entered the van. “Damn good show.”

The entire ride back, Rob stared ahead, earbuds in, and listened to whatever would come on. He couldn’t bear to look over to his left. 

Even if he couldn’t admit it to himself, a part of him had fallen in love with her over all those years. And because of his denial, all he ever could manage to do was push her away.

And he hated himself for it.

As Jane watched him approach the van, she knew instantly. “He’s drunk,” she mumbled to Sam and Austin before he hopped in, and unleashed his sarcastic enthusiasm on everyone. Jane wanted to scream, but instead, she kept quiet and calm until they reached their destination. That didn’t keep her mind from wandering though; she caught her eyes drifting from the road in front of her to the rear view mirror, watching Rob listen to his music in solitude.

Why was Rob so destroyed on the inside? If it wasn’t the single, if it really was just him, why couldn’t he talk to her about it? Why was she getting the brunt of his frustration?

Another dark venue. Another crowd. Another long night ahead.

Jane was having getting into the mindset to get on stage, desperately flipping through the songs on her phone to try to find something to fuel her, but nothing was working. She couldn’t even find the desire to drink before her set – which had truly never happened before. But, she forced herself to down a few shots of tequila, and the warmth that they sent through her body gave her the chills.

If she was honest with herself, she most likely had a problem. Not a drinking problem, a drug problem. Just a problem. Jane had difficulty doing the day to day without something to get her by, and her vices all took turns in keeping her numb enough to not deal with the issues of her heart and her mind. Some days, it was drugs. Weed, hallucinogens, select pills. Booze. Others, it was sex. And lastly, it was doing something risky. Sometimes Jane would bomb a hill on her longboard she knew she probably couldn’t handle, go out for a barreling wave in the ocean that she knew would consume her, or even stand on the ledges of rooftops she would sneak up on late at night when she couldn’t sleep. But contrary to what actions like this may describe about an individual, Jane didn’t have a death wish. Quite the opposite, actually. She wanted to live uninhibited by the restraints emotions and attachments placed on her.

One exception to the rules, though, was when her and Rob would hang out. Not currently, unfortunately, but when they were in the depths of their friendship, Jane would almost forget about her emotional tug-of-war and was simply just able to be when they were together. Jane never felt the need to explain herself or try to be something she wasn’t. He made her feel like she was okay the way she was.

Well, he did. Not anymore. And that was probably why Jane was so torn up with his recent actions. She was pining for his attention. His friendship. For him to fucking talk to her like he used to.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane’s eyes scanned the bar to find Rob’s face in the sea of patrons – she felt that after the long, silent car ride that she should try to talk to him – but she had no luck locating him. ”Maybe he’s outside.”

After greeting a few fans, she pushed her way to the street and walked online the sidewalk when she spotted the van up ahead. And Rob. And a blonde. Who the hell was that?

Jane ducked behind another van that was parallel parked a few spots down from theirs, and she focused her eyes on the girl Rob was speaking to. “The Vultures groupie?” she mumbled to herself in confusion as she watched the events unfold in front of her before they closed the trailer’s latch, keeping whatever happened between them, well, between them. The kiss that they shared – it didn’t seem like something spontaneous – but more like an action they had been waiting to do. What they expected to do one they met up. Jane’s stomach flipped.

The alarm on her phone buzzed in her pocket, notifying her that it was time for sound check, and she nearly had to rip herself away from the view to go inside.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was time, once again. The bright lights illuminated the stage, and Jane greeted the crowd.

“Hey everyone,” she smiled as she gripped the microphone stand. “We’re In Bloom from Long Beach, California. Thanks for watching us.”

In the brief moment before the song began, Jane turn to Rob and caught his gaze. Her eyes blinked slowly, trying to absorb the picture of him now to replace the one of him and Anna in her head. Him and Adrianna.

Song one went well. Song two and three did too.

“Whew,” Jane exclaimed into the mic. “You guys are awesome. But, can someone, uh, can someone get me a shot of tequila?”
The crowd woo-ed in response, and not a minute later, a hand from the crowd poked out of the sea of dark, blurry faces with a shot glass.
“Thank you!” she yelled as she shot it back. “I’ll give you a shirt or something.”

Songs four, five and six, and of course, the single, were played smoothly. Although Jane’s voice sounded fine, her energy on stage wasn’t at max capacity. She moved around, interacted with the crowd, but something felt off. She wasn’t enjoying herself.

“We’re In Bloom. Thank you, everyone!”
The crowd cheered once more as they exited the stage. Jane searched for the quickest items she could grab and nearly ran out to the van so that she could sit for a minute. She hated giving a performance that wasn’t 100%.

As Rob, Sam and Austin tumbled in the van, she lifted her head that she rested on the steering wheel and ignited the engine, nodding at Rob’s praise. She didn’t want to look at him, and by his demeanor, he didn’t want to look at her either. Great.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jane showered at the hotel for a good half hour, turning the water so hot that it nearly burned her. A painful yet pleasurable feeling. Part of her never wanted to leave, but as the water began to turn cold, she hit the faucet forcefully and groaned as she stepped out onto the white linoleum floor. After checking her phone, seeing she had five minutes until Austin was to arrive, she quickly dug through her bag to to get a pair of gray pajama pants and a black tee shirt, and as soon as she lifted it over her head, a knock sounded at the door. “Coming!”

Austin set up his laptop and opened Netflix, and they both decided to watch Trainspotting for the hundredth time. One of Jane’s favorites. They smoked a couple joints as they sat on the bed together, and everything was okay for the moment, until tears began to well up in her eyes. He looked over, paused the movie immediately, and grabbed her head to pull it on his chest. That’s when she really began to cry.

“Aw, J, come on, J,” Austin attempted to calm her as he ran his fingers (or attempted to) through her wet hair. “J, what’s wrong?”
She waited a few moments to answering him, taking deep breaths and keeping her eyes shut. “Austin, I’ve… I’ve been trying. I really have. I don’t wanna lose him. But…” she trailed off with an involuntary inhale as a result of her crying. “He’d rather fuck Vulture’s roadie than try to fix things with me. He can’t even tell me what’s going on.”

Austin bit his tongue. He wanted to explain everything to her – every detail he had either heard straight from Rob, or picked up himself – but it wasn’t his place. Instead, he sighed and looked down to her on his check. “J. You’ve gotta talk to him. And I mean talk to him. Don’t tell him off and run away. You gotta let him get it out, too.”
Jane nodded silently to his suggestion. He was completely right. But, Jane always ran away for two reasons. 1. She couldn’t get hurt by the words he replied with. 2. She always wanted to see if he’d come after her.
“I’d do some self-reflection, too, J,” he sighed. “Sam’s my best friend, and I don’t get jealous when he fucks someone else.” That made them both laugh, but as soon as the room fell silent again, Austin’s words hit her like a brick.

He was right again, damn it. But what did it mean? Jane never really looked at Rob as anything other than her best friend. She found him attractive, of course, but that wasn’t necessarily something special, especially for someone like Jane. Is that why he was acting weird? Could he be feeling… different?

The movie eventually ended, and Austin and Jane said their goodbyes, closing the door behind him and locking the chain. She leaned against the door and stared at the empty hotel room in front of her. It was only 11:00pm according to the blinking clock on the dresser. Maybe Rob was still up. Maybe they could hang out like old days. Put all the weirdness behind them.

Jane unlocked the bolt again and slipped out into the hallway, the gaudy carpet stretching on for miles in front of her. “504” she breathed, reminding herself of his room number, and when she arrived, she put her fist up to knock when she heard something. Someone. Jane placed both of her hands flat on the cold, white door and pressed an ear to it. A woman’s voice. Then Rob’s. Then hers again.

Jane was an idiot. He wasn’t treating her so strangely because he had feelings for her, she figured, but because he didn’t have them anymore.

Her forehead pressed into the door for a minute, hands remaining at either side of her face, as the self-loathing kicked in, and after listening to the muffled voices, she lifted herself off the door and walked back to her room slowly. Well, what the hell was she going to do now?
Eventually, after she had scribbled a note that said, “Not dead. On the roof.” and left it on her pillow just in case Austin or Sam came looking for her and to avoid any panic on their behalf, Jane made her way up to the roof of the hotel with a blanket and an extra pillow. Her ear buds playing Glass Arm Shattering by Porcupine Tree softly as background noise; this song always gave her the chills. The city life was bustling below her, but up here was where she found had found the most peace in weeks.

Maybe Jane wasn’t as prepared as the thought to hash things out with Rob. She spent these days so sure she was right about everything, now she wasn’t sure of anything. Exhausted by the millions of thoughts trashing around in her head, she eventually drifted to sleep under the stars above her.

Rob sat at the edge of his bed in his hotel room. The room was silent. No TV, no music…just the unbearable headache building in Rob’s head, replacing the warm feelings of the alcohol that had came before. Two small, single bottles of cheap vodka were all that remained. They sat on the small table ahead of him, waiting to be had whenever Anna had made her way over here. His cell phone sat next to him; the last message sent simply being an address and his room number: 504.

In the silence—the one Rob had fought for these past few days, the same one he had wanted all this time—as deafening him. Crushing him. It was like there was only this room, and only himself. As if there was a void outside that permeated on, into infinity.

A knock came at the door, and Rob stood to his feet, making sure to smile as he walked forward and turned the handle. On the other side was Anna.

Her bright eyes were the first thing he noticed. Her desires shown clear, though her dark irises; her lust. Sharp strands of clean blonde hair surrounded those eyes, one slipping downward, just brushing against her crimson lips. She wore a jet-black dress, tightly clinging to her body, accentuating every curve, heightening each of her features.

Rob led her into the room, and took the last shot of vodka with her. The cool, visceral fuel poured down his throat, coating the last of his throat with its warmth. The vice, renewed and reinsured by the arrival of Anna, helped distort his reality. With her, the silence was no longer necessary.

Rob pulled Anna close, but his something within him gave off one last attempt to delay what was to happen: “Did you want to do something, or—“

His sentence was cut off by a finger pressing against his lips. “Why wait?”

Nodding, Rob slipped a hand above his head, and brushed back the stray hairs obstructing his field of vision. Anna pulled in close, dropping considerably in height as she let her black patent heels slip from her feet. Rob felt his own hands pulling into her head, first cupping against her jawline, then sliding into her hair, jostling it around, tangling their ends. His other hand slid around and downward, grasping the dresses zipper and pulling it down. Her dress fell off easily, crumpling to the floor. Next, is was her turn, slowly unbuttoning his white shirt, revealing his clear skin; his toned chest. Only in these moments of lust was he aware of his own features.

The two itched closer to the bed, slowly but surely, until their knees struck the edge and they fell forward—collapsing onto the old bed. The loud protest of the box spring bounced throughout the room, shocked by the weight it had taken upon itself.

The two continued, but even as they did, there was a creeping feeling; a slow fade. Like a Tsunami, all day it had receded, slowly, surely…but now…it was returning as it once left. Increasing, gradually, unmistakably, until it would eventually become too much to handle.

And as hard as he tried, he could not keep these thoughts within him. They flowed out, consuming his physicality, effecting everything from his eye contact to his ability.

Finally, it was Anna who chose to stop, sliding off from astride him, ending up at the foot of the bed. She crossed her arms across her chest, in what seemed to be shame. “Jesus, Rob,” she said, “can we at least pretend she isn’t here?”

Rob gave her a confused look, but he had waited too long to confront Anna on the nature of their relationship. The reason he had been so apt to choose her. Anna couldn’t wait another moment for him to respond. “Look, I’m not saying what we’re doing isn’t fucked up, but would you stop—stop looking at me like I’m her!”

“I don’t know what you—“ Rob started, but he regretted his pathetic string of words the moment they left his mouth. They fell limply on the floor, and were soon crushed by Anna’s immediate onslaught:

“Don’t you fucking patronize me! I’m just off-stage for every show you do. I see the way you look at Jane. I know that look. I’m fine with being casual, believe me—but I’m not going to play surrogate for another woman.”

“You’re not a surrogate,” Rob said, regaining some confidence. He sat up on the bed, but any renewed confidence wasn’t going to combat the inevitable.

“I’m not stupid, Rob,” Anna sighed, softer than before. “I know I look like her. Both times we’ve…you always try to make me look more like her. You fuck up my hair. You treat me like…I don’t know. I’m your bandmate, not a roadie.” After a moment, she started again.

“I’m not going to get in the middle of you two. I’m not going to mess up whatever success you have or are going to have. But you need to sort yourself out, because what you’re doing here, is fucked up, man.”

Anna pushed herself up, picking up her black dress as she did, and began to slip it back on. Rob silently stood from the bed, pacing over to her and helping zip the dress back on her body. Anna put her shoes on, straightened out her hair, and slipped right out the door.

Rob stared straight ahead at the door for a long moment after. He could always see through the peephole from this distance. It was black out there. Dark.

As he pivoted in place and turned to the bathroom ahead, he stared dead into his own eyes as he approached. He no longer saw himself in this reflection. But another man.

This man was distorted and ugly. His hair sprouted out in all directions, curling meaninglessly out to the sky, fraying at it’s ends. His dark eyes grew rings beneath them; sagging grey skin, beyond any hope of recovering. His beard remained unkempt and long. His arms extended far beyond what was normal. His chest, through his white shirt, grew hair in all the wrong places.

He wasn’t a thing to love at all anymore. Each thing he had ever thought about himself seemed to be wrong. Everything he had ever felt before this one moment was all fucked up. It wasn’t even so much as an identity crisis. It was a self-realization. Each time he spoke, he lied. Each smile he gave, he faked. He had created an illusion of himself. A facade. Something he placed on each morning, and took off each night.

And each of these ideas, each of his insecurities, each of his faults and fuck-ups, they all had metastasized. Manifested into one singular entity.

Jane.

---

Rob walked out to Jane’s hotel room in nothing but a pair of beige slacks, an unbuttoned white shirt, and a key card he held limply in his right hand. At the door, he stopped for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, before knocking twice.

Nothing.

He knocked again, beating strongly against the door. So much so, the reverberations seemed to shake the walls around him.

Nothing.

The night seemed to be on inside from this end of the peephole. What would be the problem? It was only midnight, and sleeping early had never seemed to be a habit to Jane.

Rob’s eyes fluttered, this closed for a moment, and again a memory of the past began to haunt him.



It was the final week before Jane’s graduation. The two had gone out earlier, contacting a friend to buy their beer, and headed to the school at nearly three in the morning. They had both agreed that Jane’s graduation—the last of the two to finally be free of that place—was cause for a celebration. They had swung around the back of the school, supplies in hand. He had helped Jane up to an awning, and she had hung an arm down, helping him climb up with her.

Together they scaled the school, and walked around the roof; it’s rocky texture accentuated by the scaffolding and ducts of the air conditioning. Atop here, the sky shined so bright; above the streetlights and cars, the skyline was accentuated by the darkness. The lights of the sky, the vast stars…all of it glowed.

They had brought a picnic with him, eating shitty sandwiches and stale chips and looking above. They laid out Rob’s old comforter against the concrete beneath them, and looked up. Talking about everything. The band. The school.

The past. The future.

---

A door with faded red words warned Rob not to enter the staircase to the roof, but he paid it no mind. The door swung open easily; it’s steel tones ringing inside the shaft. Rob felt the cool steel against his bare feet as he ascended upwards. Rising on only a feeling. A gut instinct.

Atop here, the hotel’s roof had the highest vantage point for a few miles. The night air of the city seemed to bleed up here. Rob could look down, and see their van. Their trailer. All that they had. Everything they had worked for, for years. In a car and it’s contents. In four kids, just trying to figure out the world.

Somewhere near the center of the roof, Rob found her.

She lay sprawled out in sleep. Her hair littered the pillow below it. Her body seemed angled in an awkward fashion, not by the discomfort of the concrete below it but in a longing. Like a child, grasping, for something. Anything.

Maybe the night’s events had been a nightmare in Rob’s head. Something to wake up from. Something to forget about. To hide from everyone and everything. But there was a truth he couldn’t deny. In reality or in fantasy, in a dream or in fiction, he had to confront this.

It was as if he were seeing, for the very first time. Out of this entire trip, out of the single, the shows, the sex—everything, he had been doing, was done blindly. Instinctually. Effortlessly. And now, seeing Jane like this, being on this roof, faced with the truth ahead of him…he was opening his eyes to what he really needed to do. To quit denying his true self; his own feeling and emotions. To drop his walls. To take a change. To just tell her.

---

Scene Music: Arcade Fire - We’re All Leaving.

---

Rob moved forward, and sat across from Jane. His gently shook her, hoping she’d stir.

Her eyes opened—slowly, deliberately—and faced his. And before she could respond. Before he could get the chance to opt out. To sit and listen instead of speak. Rob opened his mouth, and slowly began.

“I don’t have the right to ask this of you, but…I haven’t talked to you in a while. Really, actually talked to you. And if you would let me—“

Rob felt a tingle in the back of his throat, and stopped, before starting up again without waiting for his answer.

“I fucked up. I don’t talk to people like I should. I let people walk away from me. I never let anyone know how I feel. And this tour—no, fuck, these past few months…few years…it’s all been on autopilot for me. Like I stopped caring. And on this tour, I acted like I stopped caring about you.”

Rob twisted a strand of hair in front of his face, feeling it’s dry texture. “And that isn’t true. This whole time, I’ve been trying to figure out who I am. Not, like, as a part of this band, or anything…as a part of me. Who I am when no one’s looking. And I realized that who I am—or at least, who I wanted to be—was always with you, Jane.”

Her full name hung in the space between them, but Rob powered through it. “And I didn’t want it to be true, because I was in denial. I didn’t want to ruin what the band was. What we were. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I did what I always do. I shut everyone out. And…when I did that…in trying not to fuck things up…I really fucked them up. And I tried to deny myself. Distract myself with the drugs, with the girl at the party, with all the drinking and—and the girl tonight—“

Rob’s voice started to shake. It wasn’t controllable anymore. This sudden admission. Relinquishing everything he had in him. Hot tears filled his face, and for the first time…Rob cried in front of Jane. He lowered his head, pounding it against his closed fist. After a moment, he raised his eyes again, wiping away his moment of weakness.

“You’re gonna think it’s the alcohol talking, but it’s not. It’s me. I’ve hurt you. And not just these past three days, but weeks and months before that. And I can’t believe I’ve let it happen for so long.”

Taking in a deep breath, he clutched his elbows with his hands, almost holding himself. “I was always the one that helped you out when you needed me. But really…it was always the other way around for me. You were always there for me. And I need you again. I need my friend. And I have to tell you…you’re more than that to me now.”

Rob looked up at the stars. He had to say something else. He didn’t want the words to come out of his mouth to be his final sentence. He needed more.

“It’s like that one night on the roof. Before your graduation, isn’t it?” He said, scratching his head. He looked back down to her. “I miss that night. I miss who we used to be.”

With that final sentence, Rob was drained. He looked off, staring into whatever void was in front of him, and waited.

As Jane was awoken out of a pot-fueled sleep, she could tell by the look on Rob’s face that he was about to unload on her everything that he had been bottling up. She braced herself – mentally and physically – as she sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Instantly, she felt remorse for bringing him to this point. He seemed so… rigid. Broken. Upset. If she had just left him alone, let it work it out himself, maybe he wouldn’t be in such a condition. But as she listened to him speak, Jane grew to be concerned about more than just his mental state.

”He’s not gonna…”

"I’ve never felt like this about anyone”

”Oh, no.”

Goosebumps scattered across her skin. His words were reaching out and choking her. Jane’s fight-or-flight instincts were kicking in, telling her to run away as fast as she could from the situation as if it’d disappear on its own. As if that would be the cure to the disease that had been eating away at both of them. But instead of escaping, she sat there, her knees gripped to her chest, and she burned a hole in the ground with her stare.

”Maybe he didn’t mean it like that. I pushed him too far. I’m making him say things he doesn’t – “

"And I have to tell you…you’re more than that to me now.”

”Shit.”

Jane was bad enough at handling her emotion – she often just swept them under the rug and hope they’d dissolve– but she was significantly more inadequate to handle others' feelings. Especially when they involved her. That’s why she didn’t get into relationships. That’s why at any sign of feelings other than physical, she cut ties. But now, she couldn’t do that. Especially to the man she had been badgering to talk to her. But, if she couldn’t cut him out, if she couldn’t run away from him, what could she do?

If Jane new one thing, it was that she wasn’t built for commitment. A powerful sex drive mixed with a tendency to get bored quickly. If she believed that things could be kept casual, they wouldn’t have to deal with this issue at all. They could hook up and still have their separate fun. But the way that Rob was laying his feelings out on the table, it didn’t sound like he wanted to get laid and high-five in the meantime. His words were said in such a matter-of-fact presentation that Jane knew she couldn’t spin them any other way.

He had feelings for her.

And she would probably break his heart.

"Rob..." her raspy voice said quietly. That was all she could push out.

Instead of hiding away from the confrontation, instead of trying to talk her way out of the awkwardness, Jane got up on her knees, moved over to him as soon as he finished speaking, and she hugged him. Tightly. Even though things were now more complicated than she had anticipated, she didn’t want to scare him off from opening up to her. That was what she had been begging for. She didn’t want to break his heart. So she sat there for a minute and embraced him.

When she finally released Rob, she pulled out the joint that tucked behind her ear, ignited it, and moved to the makeshift bed that she had abandoned earlier. She patted the pillow to signal him to lay down, and when he obliged, she rested her head on his chest and threw her arm around his stomach after passing him the joint.

Although it was not her intention, Jane realized that this was maybe a cop out. Perhaps verbalizing her thoughts was what Rob deserved. But, she had been waiting for a moment of peace with him for so long that ruining it seemed like a sin. The warm air and the stars above them were like so many other nights they had shared, but this one was different. The truth lingering between them would now change the meaning behind their actions. Simple touches, words, nights spent together. It was all different now.

Jane rose a bit and grabbed her headphones, sticking one in Rob’s ear and the other in her own, scrolling through her music until she found the song she wanted. Cutting My Fingers Off by Turnover began at a low volume, and Jane took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her arm squeezing Rob’s torso. Part of her wanted to kiss him so badly, be intimate with him, make them both feel better, but she knew that wouldn’t be fair. She couldn’t use him to numb her feelings, whatever they were.

So instead trying to fix things the wrong way, she laid on him, listening to his heart beat and moving with the slight rise and fall of his breathing. It felt so good and natural to be there with him. But her mind lingered on what to do, playing out scenario after scenario of what would happen if she tried to make things work with Rob, or if she denied him. Either one could end in her losing him, permanently, and that was what scared her the most other than breaking his heart. She eventually drifted off to sleep, though, her hand resting on his stomach and her face buried in his chest.

”Rob,” was the first word to come out of her mouth. It seemed to say so much. Hold so much weight. Understanding. And yet it was the only thing she would say.

And as she moved close to him and held him, Rob could feel the future play out in front of him. The next shows, the next tour…every moment they had been working towards. And he couldn’t shake the overwhelming sensation that if things hadn’t been messed up before…

…they surely were now.

And as he followed her, and lay down with her—as he felt her wrap her arm around him, and the cool air filled with hazy smoke from the joint shared between them. Her actions were so...honest. Real. And yet in them there was no denial, nor acceptance. Just...understanding.

Their breathing slowly aligned to each others, and the pulse shared moved with them. In. Out. In. Out.

Slowly, as Jane fell to sleep, and as his eyes began to close, he realized what he had done wasn’t something he could ever take back. All those years, all those moments with Jane he longed for again; they would never come back. A damning truth had cut between them. It was a truth that would remain for every word spoken, every touch shared, every intimate and platonic moment they would ever share.

Perhaps it would’ve been better to hide the truth from Jane. Maybe he could’ve come up here, acted as if it truly were the single that had thrown him for a loop. He could’ve lived a lie. He could’ve embraced that fallacy for the simple sake and making things they way they used to be. Yet, all of those possibilities, all of the opportunities, were all gone. All for the chance he had to really be intimate with a person he had never known to be so open.

It was all so fucking stupid.

And as he closed his eyes, he hoped as much as he figured Jane had hoped that this moment wouldn’t end. Because nothing could ever really be the same. Not with her. Not ever again.

-----Three days later-----

A new, temporary peace was found between Jane and Rob since they fell asleep, their bodies intertwined on the rooftop. They had woken up and not mentioned a word of it to each other, just like old days, and a smile was plastered on her face for the rest of that day. Although she felt like a heavy burden had been lifted off their shoulders, she knew it wouldn't last. She knew she would have to search deep down inside herself to get the answers Rob deserved. Leaving him in this purgatory wasn't fair to him, but at the same time, Jane was probably just as confused. He had always been her best friend, her confidant, her safety blanket. She tried to not thing of those qualities in him gone, but now that she knew how Rob truly felt about her, she remained slightly guarded around him.

Three shows in Louisiana, Mississippi, and Tennessee went smoothly, and the attention that In Bloom had been receiving was growing with each city. Money was pouring in from online and show purchases, and calls were coming in from booking managers to fill the band's off nights and also asking what the probability of extending their tour looked like.

Their first night off in six days was scheduled for tomorrow, and as much as Jane would have loved to squeeze in an extra show, her voice needed a rest. It always sounded raspy and tired, but with each show, she got off stage with her throat hurting worse and worse, and she knew if she didn't get a break soon, she may damage something. She desperately needed a quiet night with honey, tea, and sleep.

Their drive today from Memphis to Raleigh was long - 11 hours - and they arrived at 7:00 pm. Their set times had been getting later and later due to the band's growing popularity, and they were scheduled to play at 10:00pm with their load in at 9:00pm.

Jane spent an hour in her hotel room alone before the show, most of it in the shower trying to let the steam sooth her vocal chords. Upon exiting its warmth, she got a knock on the door. Austin.

"Hey, J. How's the voice holding up?" Austin asked gently, rustling the wet hair on the top of her head.
Jane laughed and smacked his hand away. "I'll be fine. Gotta go easy on the cigarettes tonight." She always said that but never followed through. Limiting herself in any way was a major weakness.
"Alright," he sighed and looked to her sternly. "You and Rob have been getting along lately. Wanna fill me in?"
Jane's eyes darted away from his. "Uh, nothing to fill you in on. We talked. Everything's cool."
Austin scoffed. "Doesn't look like it," he replied, bending down so she'd look at him. "You left him hanging, didn't you?"
She groaned. "How the fuck do you know everything?"
He smiled, satisfied. "Look, I know you're not gonna follow anyone's advice. But, that's not really fair to him, is it?"
"I know, I know." Jane shrugged. "But, Austin, Rob isn't like me. He deserves someone who'll wanna settle down, have kids and a mortgage or some shit. I don't want any of that. And yeah, I love him. But I can't pick apart what that love is, you know? He's been with me for so long that I don't know how I feel. That's just how it's always been. We've been each other's. But... not. God, I sound fucking stupid." She put her fingers up to the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. "We're on tour, man. We were all supposed to be having fun, getting fucked up, sowing our seeds."
This made them both laugh.
Austin hugged her tiny body and sighed. "I know, J. I know. But if you love Rob as much as you say you do, and I know you do, you gotta make an effort to deal with it, or else it's gonna blow up and ruin everything."
Jane nodded. "Yeah," she mumbled. "I'll figure something out."

----------------------------------------

After getting dressed in a tie dye shirt and jean shorts, Jane made a hot cup of tea and headed down to the lobby of the hotel to meet with the rest of the band. The places they were staying at were nicer and nicer, and Jane kept feeling the eyes of the staff staring at her bare feet, which just made her laugh. No one was born with shoes, right?

When Rob made his way down to the lobby, Jane flashed him a genuine smile. She tried to push down the thoughts of her having to open up to him, and instead focused on how great things had been lately. But Jane knew one thing, at least: her physical attraction to Rob had been growing. Usually when people admitted feelings for her, she was instantly turned off by them, but after the night on the roof, of him holding her, she began noticing things about him she didn't before. How well-built he was, his large, calloused hands, his mannerisms and movements, his dark eyes. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her not to act on her thoughts. It was new territory for Jane.

"Hey," she nudged him. "A night off tomorrow, huh? That's gonna be nice." Her voiced cracked at the end of her sentence. "Obviously I need it," she sighed as she eyed the car loop outside of the hotel.
"Maybe we can hang out. Relax, watch a movie or something?"
Jane's thoughts immediately switched from innocent ideas for their night to panic. What if their conversations turned serious? What if he tells her more than he already did? What if -

"Come on, guys!" Sam honked the horn of the van as he pulled up in front of the hotel, and Jane quickly ran out and hopped in the passenger seat. She needed to chill out before she ruined the vibe they created. Things would be fine. She hoped, anyway.

His room was darkened. Every light was off, except for three red candles, giving the room a crimson glow. Rob sat on the floor at the foot of his bed. His feet were propped up against the wall and his back against the mattress he’d sleep on tonight. His teeth lightly grasped a pencil as his hands painfully belted out a few chords on his most recent guilty purchase; an acoustic guitar.

There was a silent agreement between Rob and the others that no one would impede on the other’s instrument of choice. That was, Sam would never write a bassline, Austin wouldn’t work on vocals, and so on. As the years had past, a few times exceptions had been made. But overall, the rule was respected.

Rob’s “guitar playing” wasn’t exactly a violation of an unwritten code; it was just something he felt like doing. He wanted to learn. He needed something in his hands. His mind had felt a peace from that night on the roof, but his body refused to step in line. And so, he had to pick up more hobbies on the road.

Rob hummed out a melodic line over a few chords, playing two or three a few times once the strings continued to buzz instead of ring. Pulling the pencil out of his hand, he scribbled down a few letters in quick scrawl: Em. G. C.

On one page were a few chords; a handful that were quickly growing to be an endless alphabet of indiscernible melodies. On the other were a handful of lyrics. One half overtly-sentimental, the other meaningless drivel. All of them felt forced, but was the truth behind them. They had been forced. It was all an exercise to Rob. Like the drums before this, it was a task he picked up as a task rather than a passion. There had always been few things Rob felt passionately about.

That was, until recently.

Silence had been the code between Rob and Jane ever since his breakdown. At least, in his own mind, it was how he referred to it—a moment of weakness, insecurity and introspection all rolled into a flood of information. He looked back on this moment with mixed feelings—he had to admit how he felt about Jane. It was the truth and it was going to come out one of these days. But, on the other hand…it was so odd for him. Out of character, even. He felt as if he proved to Jane that he was too unstable to be trusted or approached. Her silence both proved his theories and raised his anxiety significantly.

It was easy to push thoughts of Jane from his mind when he surrounded himself with other things and other hobbies. Such as the guitar he held in his hands. But this entire tour revolved around Jane. She was their front-woman. With certain bands, you associate all creative work from them from a singular entity; one person. Other members could change, but without the front? It all seemed to fall apart. To the band, Jane was just a part of the band. But to the world? She probably was the band.

And it wasn’t a thought that made any of them envious. Or, at least, not Rob. It was what he wanted. To live a live such as this without the burden of being recognized. Of being scrutinized for every action or reaction he would ever have. Because if there was one thing he had proved to himself, it was that he couldn’t even trust himself.

He wondered how long things could go unspoken. For either of them.

---

Rob came downstairs just on time. He had started to adapt a lighter wardrobe after that night on the roof. Maybe it was because of the relief, or maybe because each stage had brighter, hotter lights, but regardless, the hoodies were no longer going to work. He wore a black henley and dark blue jeans; both tight. The sleeves had been pushed up towards his elbows to keep them out of the way, and his hair seemed to hang lower; their unruly locks drooping near his shoulders.

Rob sat next to Jane as he approached her; their smiles open and honest for the first time in a while. But, as soon as she asked about hanging out, Rob could feel the unspoken work it’s way between them.

Rob tried hard not to think of any anterior motives Jane may have had for the evening she discussed. He knew her, and most of the time, her words were well-chosen and honest. But…it was hard not to think of those things. Not after that night.

“That sounds fun,” he said, wanting to say so many other things instead. I’d like that. I was hoping to spend time with you. I’d love to.

The list would never end, if he let it grow. And as Sam honked the horn at them, he stopped his thoughts completely, climbing into the seat behind Jane.

The sun had already set by this hour. Playing a late show was exciting, but also slightly scary. The daytime shows had been so much more enjoyable because the band knew people weren’t waiting for them. These days it felt more and more like the festivals aligned for them. Their names, usually small and towards the bottom of posters, were moved more and more to the top. Bigger and bigger. In the music scene, each day was a week. Each week a month. The time to take advantage of their situation was now. To go from a one-hit wonder to a band that really makes some great music. Music worth listening to.

Once they arrived, a group of people had arrived to help. Dressed in black as to blend in with the night, they helped load Rob’s drum set onto the stage. In fact, two days ago, Harold had called, and had Rob email specific instructions for his drum kit. Now, each show arrived, and stage hands were at the ready to speed the process up.

Once Rob had instructed the last of them, he walked off to the side, down a hidden alcove to the photo and security pit. The last of the crew for the previous band (Vulture, coincidentally) were cleaning off the last of the stage simultaneously as the band waited. He saw Anna, helping move a large riser off. Once she noticed him, she shot him a hateful glare, and subtly flicked him off with her free, lowered hand. Probably as to not cause suspicion. It was almost funny to see.

“Howdy stranger," came a familiar voice beside him. Rob turned to face Sam, who had found him in the pit and greeted him with a painful slap on the back. It was the first time they had spoken alone in a few days

“Hey, look, I’m sorry—“ Rob started, but Sam cut him off short.

“I don’t care,” Sam said. “You fixed the problem. You were drunk off your ass. So…forgiven.”

“Thanks,” Rob sighed. It was a conversation he had been dreading but was glad to be done with so quickly.

“Besides, you’ve got other band member’s feelings to worry about now.”

“Fuck.”

Did everyone know?

Before he could ask, Sam walked back off, just obviously enough to peak the interest of a few people lined up against the barricades. They cheered and hollered as they recognized the guitarist. He gave them a smile. “I’ve gotta go tune up,” he shouted over them. He pointed a finger to Rob. “But go get him! He’s the drummer!”

Sam smiled happily to Rob before turning away, as the crowd in front of him cheered and his anonymity was shattered. He ended up signing twenty CD’s, three shirts, two foreheads, and even a someone's cell phone before breaking off and remembering to find a way back at Sam later.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was happier. Mostly. But Rob had always been a pessimist.

How long could this really last?

Jane resulted in hiding in the van with a cup of warm water. She was practically swarmed when she walked into the venue which, to her surprise, overwhelmed her completely. It was possibly because she was tired or had a lot on her mind, but talking to everyone made her feel like she was suffocating. Somehow, her mind always went back to one thing though, and Jane sighed in frustration when Rob crashed her thoughts.

After checking the time, Jane hopped out of the van and entered a side door that led her directly to side stage. She did her sound check, trying her hardest to make sure her voice was okay, and then it was time. The band took the stage under the bright, warm lights, and as they all got situated, she looked to Rob, and her eyes lingered on him for a few moments. Maybe it was the outfit, maybe it was the drinks she had earlier, but he looked so attractive as he sat there. It was as if she had a blindfold on all of these years, one Rob removed when he told her how he felt.

Memories of their friendship flashed before her eyes as she watched him tweak his drum set. Laughs, fights, tears, moments like their night on the roof. She couldn't decide whether the memories made her happy or sad, but Jane knew she didn't want to throw them away. And she knew right then that she couldn't bear to lose him no matter what they decided to do.

When she caught his gaze, she smirked and nodded, but a figure to the side of the stage in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Anna. She caught a cold stare from her, and instead of shooting one back, Jane shifted her focus on the crowd.

"Hey, everyone. We're In Bloom from Long Beach. "
The crowd cheered, and Jane used her fingers to clear her hair from her face.
"Look, I'm not gonna lie to you people. My throat fucking hurts, so if you know any of the words, help me out and sing 'em with me, yeah?"
The crowd cheered once more.
"Sick. Thanks."

-----------------------------------------

As soon as the show ended, Jane got off stage and dashed outside into the alleyway next to the venue, where she leaned up against the brick wall resting her hands on her knees and trying to catch her breath. Her voice was done, yet she managed to push through the show as if it were okay, and soon, a wave of nausea crash over her, and she threw up on the street.

"Fuck," she squeaked after her stomach was done, and she wiped her mouth with an arm and looked both ways. Thank God. No people. No fans. No band. No Rob. Jane wasn't sure what was happening to her, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was all mental. She was completely consumed with not only the growing popularity of her band, but also with the fact that she would have to completely open up and spill her heart out. That wasn't what Jane did. Ever.

She sighed and walked back to the van and got in the drivers seat as the trailer was loaded. Jane's thoughts were now on the past four days. She hadn't picked anyone up or fooled around with anyone since Rob confessed his feelings to her; it didn't feel right. But, she could feel herself growing antsy, and Jane knew when she got antsy, she usually ended up doing something stupid.

Once everyone was in the van, Jane took off down the road and sighed. "Good job tonight, fellas. Every show we've played so far has been so solid. I love you guys," Jane admitted. She hadn't given them enough credit for what they did every night. For the band. For her.

Once they arrived at the hotel, Jane looked to Rob as they stood at the side of the van. "We, uh, we don't have to hang out tonight if you're tired," she pushed out. Why was she so nervous to hang out with the man she spent the past six years with? It bothered her completely, but she tried to keep her demeanor calm, and she forced a smile as she grabbed her bag from the backseat and headed into the hotel and eventually up to her room, where she changed into a gray tank top and a pair of boxers she slept in. And of course, she showered and brushed her teeth (and prayed she wouldn't need to puke again that night.)

A cup of warm tea with honey and whiskey was prepared and steaming on the table as Jane opened the hotel room window and looked out at the dark sky, a sort of ceiling housing the bustling city below her.

Jane jumped at the sound of her vibrating phone on the wooden nightstand.
"Hey, boss," Jane joked. It was Sam's dad.
"Hi, Jane. Sorry to bother you this late. Your numbers are still skyrocketing. I've been getting calls from radio station after radio station, even a few labels. It's amazing!" His voice was genuinely enthusiastic, and Jane matched it.
"That's awesome. Thanks for the update."
He cleared his throat. Of course that wasn't the only reason he called. "I heard there has been some...drama, for lack of a better word."
Jane sighed. "Everything's fine. We're okay."
"Alright." He didn't sound too convinced. "I need you to behave. God knows what articles they're already writing about In Bloom's wild front woman, we don't need any other bad press. And you know that you're going to have to convince them to write more music like the single. That ain't gonna work if you're breaking their hearts or getting fucked up and sleeping around. I need you to get it together."
His words cut her deep. "I've got it. Good night."

She abruptly ended the call, threw the phone on the bed, and rested her hands on the cold window sill. As much as they thought the tour would grant them more freedom, it looked as though the more attention they got, the more they would be micromanaged, but Jane never did well with people telling her what to do. It usually lit a rebellious fire in her, just like the one she was feeling right then.

The show had all gone according to plan, and with each evening and each show becoming even more fluid and comfortable than the last. It reminded Rob of a word his first boss had used; working as a sandwich maker as a summer job. Synergy. Connecting with others. Loosing the self to gain the whole. But, really, it was the truth. It was how Rob was beginning to feel on stage. Each intricacy of Austin’s bass. Each flare of Sam’s guitar.

Each note of Jane’s melodies. It all rang together perfectly.

And once it had ended, Austin had caught up with him as they moved to dismantle the stage.

“Killer show, Rob,” Austin said. His voice rang higher than Rob had once remembered it. He was cheerier than his usual self. He had been for a few days. “I like that little fill you threw in towards the end of Speechless. You never improvise on stage.”

Rob smiled. Anytime someone talked about that old B-side of theres they played made him happy. It had been, and probably always would be, his favorite track they had made. “I dunno. It just felt right.”

“Look, whatever happened between you and Jane—“ Austin started, but cut himself off as soon as he caught Rob’s glare, “…nevermind. Look. I’m just glad I feel like I’m talking to you. Rob. Not…whatever you put on usually.”

“Thanks,” Rob said, dripping with sarcasm, “I’m glad I please you.”

Austin punched him softly as they loaded up the car, seeing Jane coming in near the same time. She looked…off. It was funny, how before the rooftop conversation that had, Jane had seemed so herself and Rob felt off. Now…things had switched. It was as if there wasn’t a way for them both to be satisfied. Both to be happy.

Thinking of these things reminded Rob of how easy it wouldn’t been to dwell on what was going on between Jane. The silence that remained between them could fester up. As of now Rob felt good about what it was, but he was still riding the high of his feelings; enjoying the euphoria of finally speaking his mind. Knowing sometime soon Jane and Rob would finally talk things out. But with each passing moment these things didn’t happen, the high would recede, and someday soon, he’d be the one with the hangover.

It weighed on his mind as they returned, but strengthened as Jane hastily made a retreat:

”We, uh, we don't have to hang out tonight if you're tired,” her voice came, soft to him. Before he could respond, she was gone yet again, not waiting for a response. Not hearing what he had to say. He felt a tinge of anger dwell up inside him. I told you how I feel. I was open and honest. And this is how you repay me? More running? More silence?

Rob tried to shake the feeling off, but when he entered his room, all he could think of was Jane.

Now that his mind was open to the idea, he knew how attractive he found her. She was the opposite of the people most would go for, but it wasn’t to say she wasn’t attractive. She was beautiful. But her free spirit, her tangled locks and constant bare feet, her wild side…these were all things most guys he knew steered away from. They wanted the constant girl. The one with the B.S. going to grad school. The cute brunette with the big tits and love of beer. There was a distinction to be made, and a lot of men made it like this: The cool girl. Not the wild one.

Maybe that’s what drove him to her in the first place. Some sort of self-destructive tendency to want what he can’t have.

Self-fulfilling prophecy.

But…he could fight against it.

It had to be instinctual. Not thought out. Honest. Any other way would’ve just been lying to himself.

So, Rob sat up from his bed he had been laying on for hours, and made his way over to the desk in his room. Grabbing a pen, he made sure to write clearly and legibly, before moving back out of the room with both his main and spare key.

He made his way to Jane’s room, and slipped the spare key under the door along with the note:

I don’t bite! Come by if the room bores you sometime. -R

Satisfied with at least making the effort, Rob went back to his room, trying very hard to have no real expectations. After a quick shower, Rob threw on the news for a few minutes, before becoming sufficiently tired enough to doze off. If he had tried to sleep in silence, lord knows…

He would’ve been up all night thinking.