Rob found himself sitting on a park bench somewhere slightly north of the city; annoyed at the light drizzle that poured from the sky. He didn’t want to be here.

Rob had fully expected Jane to have marched into the tour bus hours ago. He had waited around, not wanting to miss her arrival and hopefully find some time together. He had been having a small inkling of worry that he had been with Zoe more than Jane. One cryptic text from Jane later, he had far more than just a little worry. 

He had texted Zoe soon after, and arranged to meet her here, after she had met up with Andy to talk. Rob had been sitting on this bench for nearly two hours before Zoe finally marched up, face blank and eyes locked onto his. 

“Andy says it went well,” she said simply, sitting beside him. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Rob’s mind was on anything but Andy at the moment. “And yours?” He asked. 

“Fine,” she said, dead in the air. The way she had said it seemed almost like an afterthought than a real answer. “Andy doesn’t usually take to people like you. I’m just glad it he did—“

“It didn’t seem fine,” Rob interrupted. Zoe’s face dropped a slight bit as he continued: “Jane’s disappeared.”

“Yeah,” she said. He could feel her growing slightly defensive. “An interview or something.”

“How do you know that?” 

“She told me,” she said. More short answers.

“Seriously, what happened?” Rob said, nearly exasperated. Zoe was never this difficult to get answers out of. Not with him. 

“Nothing, dude,” she said; seemingly fully frustrated with Rob at this point. She reached into her pocket and handed Rob a card. “Just bailed quickly after we had only talked a few minutes.”

“And did you say anything that set her off?”

“Jesus, Rob,” Zoe deflected. “Just ask her yourself if you care so much. I’m sure she could tell you herself.”

“Jane doesn’t just disappear like that,” Rob said. “Something tells me she wouldn’t answer even if I called.”

“Sure,” she said dryly. “If you know her so well.”

“I do. And could you just shoot straight with me?” Rob asked. “Where’s all of this deflective shit coming from?”

“It’s always the same with you guys, isn’t it?” Zoe finally snapped. “I never hear about her when things are fine, but the second she throws a fit, she’s all I hear about.”

“Because I [i]fucking[/i] date her, Zoe.” Rob said.

“But why do you?” Zoe shouted back. “All you ever do is complain about her with me. [i]Jane did this. Jane did that.[/i] And you spend more time with me than her anyways. Are you even open with her?”

Rob opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his mouth. As much as it pained him to admit it, she was right. 

She continued: “Just face the facts, dude. I’m not the fuck buddy. She is.” 

Behind Zoe, Rob could see a few wandering eyes locking onto them. Both of them were growing louder by the second, but Rob was too heated to let it worry him now. 

“You knew what we were getting into,” Rob said. “I dated Jane first.”

“So she knows everything, right?” Zoe said. “All the fucking thoughts and insecurities you dump onto me? Because the way she bolted after I mentioned how close we were seriously seemed like she doesn’t.”

“We’re friends, Zoe,” Rob said. His voice turned cold, and his heart began to follow suit. “We just fuck. That’s it.” 

“You’re delusional if you think that’s all this is,” Zoe said. For the first time, he could see her eyes fill with emotion. “And you can blame me all you want for why your relationship with Jane is shit. But you only have yourself to blame.” 

Zoe stood up quickly, turning on her heel and facing Rob again. “You really think that sex is all this is? I [i]know you[/i], Rob.” She straightened her body up, putting on a voice: “[i]This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so fucking pathetic. Did you really think someone wanted you?[/i] Remember that? Because I’m starting to think she was right about you.”

Those were the words Hayden had shouted at him all those years ago. The same words that tore him to pieces; leaving him as broken as he felt in this one moment. Rob had trusted Zoe with that story—with his own insecurity. And she had just thrown it right back into his face. 

In the same way he father had, so many years ago. 

He was left speechless as she walked away, and did not move for a little while longer. After a few minutes had passed, he moved to the restrooms nearby, locked the door behind him, and shouted so loud, half of Kiev turned their heads. 

—

Rob spent several hours marching back to the venue and tour bus in relative silence. In the time since his encounter with Zoe, he had missed a few phone calls from various members of the band, as well as text messages. In fact, the most had been from Zoe—who had left him seven voicemails and had tried to call another nine times. She had left a single text message: 

[i]4:02, Zoe:[/i] [b]I am so sorry. Please pick up.[/b] 
Rob was in no mood to return her calls. In fact, he felt very little at all, in the moment. 

He knocked loudly on the door of the Vicarious tour bus as soon as his journey had ended. The rain had long since drenched his clothes, and he dripped on the concrete as he waited for the door to open. 

Finally, it did—just enough for Trent to slip his head out. “Now’s not a good time, man.” 

Behind Trent, Rob could hear the back door slamming shut. Most likely Zoe, who seemed uninterested in having a face-to-face conversation. Fortunately for her, Rob had other plans. He pushed easily past Trent, entering the bus.

“Where’s Andy?” He asked, searching the first bunk he came across. 

“Andy?” Trent asked. His eyes looked tired and worn out, and he seemed much more serious than Rob had ever seen him. “I don’t—look, we’re trying to deal with something and I think it’s best if you just left.”

“I need to talk to Andy,” Rob said, completely ignoring what Trent said, facing him fully now. “I don’t give a shit what’s happening. Point me to him and I’ll leave.”

“Where do you think he’s at?” Trent spat out. “Christ, the both of you have done nothing but fuck everything up.”

It was all but confirmed for Rob that Trent had spoken to Zoe and sided with her. Zoe, Rob figured, was in the back, most likely remorseful and regretting how much of a colossal fuck up she had just made with Rob. The text and calls were evidence for that. Trent and Zoe were good friends, and Rob couldn’t blame Trent for being mad at him. For after all, Rob was half the reason Zoe was mad with herself at the moment. 

But when it really came down to it, Rob couldn’t bring himself to care. 

Luckily, before matters got any worse, the door opened, and Andy stepped in to see Trent and Rob inches from each other. He immediately froze. 

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Rob wasted no time: “I need to find Jane.”

“What? Dude, I wasn’t with—“ Andy started, but Rob knew better. 

“We just talked this morning about how we were going to cut the bullshit,” Rob interrupted. “So please don’t lie to my face and tell me you weren’t with Jane.” 

Andy paused briefly. “She asked me not to tell anyone where she is. She’s in a hotel. That’s all I can say.” 

Rob took a step at Andy, causing Trent to immediately slip in between them. Surely Rob didn’t want to fight him. But the anger of being kept in the dark about his own girlfriend had nearly driven him to hit Andy. And that was something he honestly did not want to do. 

Silently, he nodded, and slipped out of the tour bus. He heard a good deal of commotion as he crossed the street and entered his own tour bus. 

“Christ, Rob,” Austin said as he got up from the couch. A few of the others were also standing around—all of them seemingly waiting on his arrival. “Where have you been?”

“Went for a walk,” Rob said shortly. He figured that as drenched as he was, and most likely how bloodshot and baggy his eyes probably looked at the moment, he certainly appeared to be a cause for concern. “Hear from Jane?”

“Just said that she was fine,” Austin said. “I have no idea where she’s at.”

Sam stepped forward. “Dad won’t tell me where he booked her. We were hoping you knew.”

Rob shook his head, and slipped back into the back of the bus. “I don’t.” He pulled off his shirt and began looking for another one. “I’m going out.”

“Where?” Aaron asked. He had been watching silently for a while now. A friend that had helped him through his first rough path with Jane, he seemed rather concerned about the second. 

“Just another walk,” Rob lied. “I won’t be back for a while.” 

The rest of the band could only watch and Rob slipped out the door and back into the chilly air. 

He had almost left the parking lot, when he heard the loud footfalls of someone approaching from behind. He pivoted in place, blinking the rain out of his eyes, and making out Zoe’s figure as she approached him. 

She seemed so much more different than last they had spoken this day. From the mornings calm conversation, to their explosive argument in the park, to now, both seemed as worn and as dead as the other. Funny, how it had all gone so downhill so fast. 

“I’m sorry,” she had shouted as she approached, stopping in her tracks a few feet away. She seemed almost scared by him, or rather the way he looked to her. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that. I’m just—I’m sorry, alright?”

Rob said nothing, so Zoe continued: “That was mean, and cruel, and a fucked up thing to say, alright? I don’t know why I brought it up. I just…I wish I hadn’t said anything.”

It was almost strange how similar Zoe and Rob had been this tour. They acted very similar to each other, and both of them seemed as happy as the other had been. And yet now, both seemed very much on the edge of their rope. 

“Would you say something?!” She finally shouted, but on deaf ears. Rob turned, and marched slowly off—ignoring her pleas and screams as he did so, until they had been so faint, they might have been drops of rain.

—

Evening found Rob in a local bar—the only one that seemed to attract the tourists and english-speaking population. He had made small talk with the bartender, who seemed a fan of their work, and had gotten her to give him his eighth drink that hour without cutting him off. 

It had been a few weeks since he last had a sort of breakdown of sorts. He could distinctly remember the flashes of lights and raging headaches that had come with a cocaine-fueled night out with Mia and Sam. Something that seemed like such a long time ago, but somehow also felt very close. Luckily, Rob had neither the connections nor desire to solicit anything worse than the beer he was drinking. The uncomfortable truth of the matter was, Rob had a tendency to binge whenever he felt as bad as he did in the moment. 

The pulsing music behind Rob felt like they were vibrating the inside of his brain, and he turned in his stool to see who was playing. His body felt ill from the sudden spin, and Rob lost his ability to hold himself up on the small wooden seat. He tumbled slowly to the ground, crashing against two other patrons as he fell. 

The lights faded in and out of view, and Rob could just barely make out the silhouette of the bartender woman, offering a hand out. Rob tried to mutter a few words of apology, but could hardly get out more than a slurred “sorry.” 

He was led quietly to the back, where he could see the bartender making a few phone calls. He was no longer sure of how much time had passed, but eventually, Aaron came into the room, and led Rob down more fuzzy hallways and into a taxi. Once they arrived at the bus, Aaron stopped him before letting him inside. 

“You need to get that out of you,” Aaron said. 

Rob blinked slowly a few times, trying to focus on what he meant. “How?” He finally managed to ask. 

Without warning, Aaron sent a fist straight into and up Rob’s gut. 

The sudden shocking blow broke Rob’s typically strong stomach, and he lurched, sending beer across the muddy concrete, looking the same as when he had last seen it. He vomited twice more, before falling to his knees. 

“I haven’t seen you like this in years, dude,” Aaron said. “Seriously. Kiev isn’t the safest city in the world. You can’t just leave like that.” 

Rob grabbed at his own face, trying to wipe the remaining spit from his mouth. “You….punched me?”

Aaron rolled his eyes. “If I hadn’t, you might have gotten alcohol poisoning. Anything else in you? Dope? Pills?”

Rob shook his head. 

“Alright, look,” he said. “Clearly, whatever shit you have going on, you don’t want to deal with it. So I’m not going to ask. But you need to sort this out. I don’t know what happened, but I can’t imagine Jane’s gonna want to come back to you throwing up all over her.”

Rob blinked twice.

Aaron moved over to him, lifting him up. “Alright, come on.”

The two moved into the bus, where familiar faces seemed to watch him as he moved. He was set into his own bunk by Aaron, who left and returned with a trash bag, and soon after, Rob was left alone. 

He groggily turned over to look at his phone. Another few missed calls—this time from most everyone in his band, and surprisingly, one from Andy as well. The thought of Jane, somewhere safe and secure, having Andy protecting her, made him sick. The role he was supposed to fill. 

And Zoe. The person he had confided in for half of this tour. For so much of his time. Someone he trusted and had grown to care for. She had turned so quickly; so suddenly. Used the information most sensitive to him and used it against him. He had seen her blow up before, in frustration with Jane, but the full force had come at him this time. 

For all the conflict in his and Jane’s relationship, he never once feared her doing something so cruel. Jane could be hotheaded, sure. But she never went for the jugular. 

Jane was so many things. Flawed, yes, but amazing as well. She had become so caring these past few weeks. So concerned to the point of self-harm about Rob’s feelings and emotions. Having gone so far out of her way to ensure his happiness. Had clearly defined the terms in her own sexual encounters with Andy. Had never developed other feelings. She was so beautifully loyal, and what was Rob? Conflicted. Distant. Hypocritical. Nothing of real merit. Not at this moment. Not when he couldn’t even walk himself ten feet. 

Maybe there was one saving grace. 

Rob had told Zoe the story of Hayden, sure. Even Jane knew of it—although not in as much detail. But Rob could remember one night, several years ago. On the roof of his and Jane’s old high school. Soon after her mother had died. 

Talking about mothers had always been a stressful thing with Rob and Jane. He had always known Jane had problems with her mother, and tended to avoid the topic. With the recent passing, it was perceptually unavoidable. 

So Rob told her something he hadn’t told anyone else. Either before or after that night. He told her the real reason that Hayden had influenced him so very much. Because it was not her doing that caused his problems. It was his fathers. 

—

[i]It was several hours after the breakup between Rob and Hayden. It had been a short flamed relationship that had burned twice as bright. 

Rob was distraught. He had never been emotional before this moment, but could not stop crying. He sat alone in his living room at three in the morning, lost and alone. Unsure of what to do. Too late to try to console himself with Jane, and too early to go out and find others. 

His father had woken up to go to work, and was coming through the living room when he saw his son. 

“Christ, what was it this time,” his father said, rolling his eyes. “That girl find some other man to leech off of?”

Rob stared at his father with tear-stricken eyes. 

“I told you she was an ungrateful bitch,” his father said. “I knew it when she asked you to take her to prom. She wanted your money, son.”

“I cared about her,” Rob tried to say. “[u]So. Much.[/u] I did everything for her—“

“Stop it,” his father said, entering the room. “I didn’t raise you to stay up crying over girls. You’re better than this.”

Rob looked at his father, but couldn’t stop. He was unsure of what had come over him. Perhaps it was the hormones, or the alcohol in his system, but he just couldn’t stop. After a moment, his father swung a hand at his, slapping his across the face.

“[u]STOP,[/u]” he roared, but Rob could only look down, unable to see his father eye-to-eye. “What did she tell you, huh? That you’d never find someone? Man up, would you?”

Rob sunk in his seat.

“Christ, you’re such a pussy.” His father finally said, before walking out the door to work. “I’m starting to think she was right about you.” 

It was the last honest conversation the two had truly ever had.[/i]


—

Rob could remember telling Jane that story. About how it truly felt. About how they had both been let down by their fathers, and how that didn’t define who they were. 

Or at least, that’s how he felt then.

Now? Laying here in the bunch, drunk and miserable over his own mistakes? 

Maybe Dad was right.

Maybe he was just a pussy.