Playing the acoustic set was relaxing but certainly boring. Rob spent the majority of the time spinning a drum brush endlessly across the snare head, using the other to lightly tap on the cymbals every so often. The only excitement throughout the experience was an interesting roll of the snare towards the beginning of Speechless, which he did with actual sticks, before switching over to the unfortunate metal delegated to drummers in the situations. 

Afterward the set and the CD signing, the drum tech helped Rob with tear down, and asked him: “Why did you seem so bored?”

“It’s audio, isn’t it?” Rob said. “I play in time.”

“Yeah, I was just wondering.”

The way the drum tech talked seemed as if he was scared to ask about it. Maybe he had heard the podcast. Rob shuddered at the thought. 

“You know Nirvana’s MTV [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1G8V6ta9Auk&list=PL8497F603F1A8B5E4]Unplugged[/url] record? How they recorded that?”

“Of course,” the drum tech said. “That was one of my first CD’s.”

“Watch Dave Grohl on drums sometime, in the video” Rob joked. “See if he looked any more excited than I did.”

The tech laughed, before moving along his way. For a moment, Rob regretted the candid conversation he had just had with a stranger. More and more he was delegating time to people he hardly knew, and one of these days he worried it would come back to bite him. He tried not to worry about it too much as he climbed back into the van. Waiting for the others, he felt the shitty upholstery that lined the ceiling and floor, knowing that someday very soon, they’d be finished with this van forever. It almost seemed like a loss of innocence. 

Jane climbed into the van soon after the thought cross his head, nudging him and asking once again to hang out with him.

Had he been so distant? Jane didn’t seem to be the person to mince words, and less so around Rob. Sure, she had hidden the request under a joke, but in a way, he felt bad about what had happened.

Rob realized that, at the very least over the past few days, he had been having his typical discussions with others instead of Jane. And maybe it was because of the undiscussed podcast incident between them, but really wasn’t much of an excuse. He would need to talk to her about this, and she clearly wanted to. Or at least, some part of her seemed to. 

“Let’s unpack first,” Rob said, lacing the words slightly with signature low sarcasm. And, once they had arrived at the hotel (a [i]much[/i] nicer one than before, he needed to add) he took Jane out as requested. 

The two slipped into a place Rob had always wanted to check out: the Hard Rock Cafe. The two stood in line for a moment, before a man in black approached them.

“Jane and Rob?” the man asked. Hesitating, Rob nodded.

“I thought so. We’re sponsors for the venue you’re playing at tonight. Come with me.”

Rob laughed as he followed the man, Jane in tow. “Looks like we’re V.I.P.’s”

And so they were. 

They were given the prime seating in the house—a table overlooking the rest of the cafe, separate from the other tables and far enough away to avoid any unwanted fan interaction. In fact, at the base of the stairs leading to the seat, Rob eyed another man in all black, standing post. And while he didn’t know, he had his suspicion it was in an effort to prevent fans.

“Jesus,” Rob said between drinks. “I wish we had gone to some shitty dive instead.”

Sometime after saying it, he figured it was time to, at the very least, acknowledge the space between them. So he started: 

“So we should probably talk about that interview, huh?” he tossed out. He took a bite of his food before continuing: “I guess I, uh, was pretty frustrated you got mad at me, to be honest. He kept asking me about us and the single, and I tried not to talk about both. I figured, I dunno…I guess I expected you to mention that, at some point.”

It felt so odd coming out of his mouth. It seemed the more and more this relationship grew, the less he liked to talk about things. To admit his feelings with words. The fear of messing things up was always in the back of his mind, maybe even [i]causing[/i] him to. 

“And I get why you were mad. Or, at the least, I [i]think[/i] I do. How could I blow up when you hadn’t. It’s just—just something I’m not good at, you know? Like…”

Rob thought for a moment.

“Like I’m good at drums, and being pretty pragmatic about shit most of the time. But, who I let know how I feel? That’s just different. People thinking they have some right to know what I think. That pisses me off. Because it just feels so vulnerable. Like…they have the upper hand. Or something. I hate feeling that weak.”

[i]And admitting things like this to you makes me feel weak,[/i] he wanted to add. 

“So, I guess I’m sorry I blew up, but, I don’t feel bad for denying him that information. He was an asshole about it. So…I guess those are my thoughts.”

Rob looked down and picked at his food. Since when was he bad at talking? It was so odd to him to be that bad at it. 

Jane, in some ways, was his own form of kyrptonite. Every honest moment he admitted to her felt like more ammo, and that one day, she was going to turn it right back at him. 

And he could trace it back, in fact, to a woman whose name he didn’t remember.

…

[i]It was freshman year actually, of all things. And Rob was different then. Sure, he made out with whatever girl came his way, but there was a different sense of vulnerability to him.

He remember what it was like to fall in love with someone. And that person, for him, was Hayden.

Sure, it was puppy love at best, but Hayden was something truly special to him. Every facet of his he found beautiful. Each action she took, each breath from her, it was all so incredibly vivid. Like living for the first time. Like coming out of a long trance, only to realize he had been asleep the whole time. 

He was so, so naive. 

They had gotten together just a month before prom, and she had been a junior; just old enough to go. So, Rob begged his parents for money. He cut yards and worked his ass off to pay for both his ticket and hers, as well as for the limousine she so desperately wanted. No matter how ridiculous her request, he would always fulfill it, always. He told her painful secrets about himself. He admitted things to her no one else knew. From his parents to some of the worst experiences of his short life, he gave to her. Only, when he realized he knew too little about her, it was too late.

Long story short, she broke things off with him the day after prom. She had used him for his money, and given herself a night she wouldn’t forget. And once she had used him, she had thrown him away. 

And not only that; she was cruel, as well. 

“This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so fucking pathetic.” she spat into his face during the breakup. “Did you really think someone wanted you?”

Something about the moment broke him. Like every idea of what it was like to love was shattered beneath him—left crushed upon the floor from the wake of Hayden above him. And while her words were shallow and meaningless to her, they struck a chord with him that hadn’t been touched ever before. 

He forgot about her months later, and couldn’t even recall her name after he had graduated, but the memory of what she did to him lived in the recesses of his mind. Like a tortured, immature voice shouting in his head: you stay the hell away from love. Don’t you ever, ever expose yourself again.[/i]

…

It was the same thought Rob had from time to time, and especially now, in front of Jane--the person he was closest to, across the world entire. Because beneath it all, the enigmatic persona he liked to live out, beneath his anger and his drive, he was as insecure as the rest of them. 

And that fucking blew. 

[i]What was her name?[/i] he thought to himself.