Jane’s eyes were nearly bulging out of her head as Rob continued with his portion of the interview, and it took all of her strength to not jump in and try to redirect the conversation. 

[i]”Did he fucking lose his mind? Is he crazy? What the hell is he doing?”[/i]

To avoid any more negative comments from Simon, instead of running after Rob when he stormed out of the office, she sat through Sam and Austin’s portion, laughing and agreeing along as if she wasn’t fuming on the inside. 

Their image had already been tainted enough, but now… The one guy in the band that Jane always counted on to be the most calm and leveled headed basically told the interviewer to fuck off. Although she was angry at how he handled it, she was mostly baffled. Yeah, she knew he wasn’t as open with talking about sex and intimacy. And yeah, maybe Simon was being a little pushy. But now, there were definitely two targets for the media now. Jane made peace with being the scapegoat, but now that Rob would be facing heat, she wasn’t sure how things would go. 

After saying farewells and apologies to Simon, Jane blazed a trail out of the office into the court yard where Rob was standing. She spoke in a stern whisper which would have been yelling if she wasn’t trying to not attract attention. “Rob, what the [i]fuck[/i] was that? Are you trying to make us look worse than we already do? I can fucking see the headline now. ‘Crazy skank front woman fucking angry asshole drummer.” She sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. 

“Do you not think that I’ve wanted to punch at least half of the people talking shit about me? That I haven’t wanted to cry during an interview, or-or tell them to go fuck themselves?” She removed the fingers from her face and glanced up at Rob. “Of course I have, man. I know I try to act like that shit doesn’t bother me, that I’m fine with them talking about me like they do but,” Jane felt a lump grow in her throat and tears begin to well in her eyes. 

Before she could continue, a “hey” was shouted at them from Austin across the courtyard. “Sets in an hour, we gotta go!” 

She took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her flannel. Was it wrong of her to blow up on Rob? She honestly wasn’t sure. In her mind, right there, she felt like he deserved it. But, if she took a step back, she realized she might have been too harsh. But Jane’s pride sweltered deep inside of her as she stood there with him, and after deciding not to say anything further, she walked back to the van by herself and took her normal spot in the back corner. 
For the first time since Rob and her had opened up to each other, she didn’t want to talk it out. She had done more talking about her feelings in the past week than she had in the past year. 

Her headphones blared [url=https://youtu.be/OjZgQwm8YWQ]Scarecrow by Stick To Your Guns[/url] as she closed her eyes and felt the vibrations of the van underneath her as it took them to the venue they were playing tonight. 

[i]”I can’t wait to have a fucking drink.”[/i]

The venue very much reflected the rest of the city – it was covered in graffiti and old fliers from shows in the past, but it housed a decent amount of patrons. Before stepping out of the van, Jane had put a snapback on so that it may hide her face a bit; the thought of having to talk to anyone who had heard the podcast made her nauseated with anxiety.

A new, fun perk that they were receiving was the rider. Jane had requested an eighteen pack of Yuengling and a bottle of Jameson, figuring she’d take along the leftovers with her, and she scooped up five beers and brought them to the area in the back of the building, both entrances to the alley way watched by guards in case anyone underage attempted to sneak in. She sat on the ground with her back on the wall and finished a beer in the first minute. Then another. Then two more. Swigs of Jameson were taken in between sips of the beer, and she was enjoying the heavy buzz she was feeling when a voice snapped her out of deep thought.

“Jane, right?”
Her eyes glanced up, meeting those of the vocalist of Vicarious. Andy. “Yes, sir,” she smirked. “And you’re Andy.” 
“Mind if I sit?” He asked as he pointed to the spot on the ground next to her. 
Jane shrugged and nodded, and after he sat, she stuck out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” he smiled as she shook her hand. “Sorry, a little sweaty. We just finished up not too long ago.” 
Jane lit a cigarette before answering. “Doesn’t bother me.” 
“Well, Jane, I’d love to ask you questions, but I feel like I already know everything about you,” he chuckled as he lit his own cigarette, blowing the smoke out directly ahead of him.
“Ha, yeah. Those articles don’t leave much to the imagination, do they?” her nose crinkled up as she finished the statement. “Seems like you guys haven’t been picked on as much, yeah?” 
He nodded with a smile. “Eh, we’re probably not as interesting.” 
Jane scoffed. “My ‘wild’ life isn’t as fun when I have to talk about it all the time. I really dig your band, by the way. I actually listened to you guys before I knew you’d be on the circuit.”
His eyes lit up a bit. “Well, same here. Plus, your single wasn’t as bad as your drummer thinks it is.”
She smiled coyly before offering a quiet “thanks.” 

A stagehand popped out of the backdoor and called to Jane. “Two minutes!” 

Jane nodded to the man and stood up with a grunt. “Nice meeting you, Andy.”
He bowed a bit jokingly. “You, too, Jane.” 

Jane took the stage lazily, and the bright lights and loud room made her instantly realize that she may have drank too much before her set. [i]”Fuck it.”[/i]

“How is everyone doing tonight?” 
“Woooooo!” the crowd yelled back at her. 
“Jesus, okay. Well, I’m Jane. We’re In Bloom from Long Beach. Thanks for listening.” 

The entire performance was a blur – partly from the repetitiveness of playing a set every night, partly from the alcohol – but she definitely let loose on stage more than usual. 

At the end of the single, which was their last song, Jane dropped down to her knees at the front of the stage in front of the crowd and sang the last few lines as they shouted it back at her. 

It was invigorating. 

She stood up to thank the crowd in a breathy, hoarse voice before exiting the stage to catch her breath. Her hands rested on her knees as she felt the sweat drip down her face. 

“That was sick,” a voice sounded. Andy, again. 
“Thanks,” Jane smiled between deep breaths. Maybe it'd be good for her to make a new friend on the road; a person not so involved with the band could possibly be a nice escape.