Rob was fast asleep, but the sharp grip of the drugs in his body forced his mind to be active once again. He recalled a memory of his coming of age; his trip across the country, taking him to Kalispell, Montana. — [i]“What’s your age again?” The woman behind the front desk asked. Her thick accent, on top of the strangeness of the situation, made Rob anxious. She was the first person he had really spoken to in several days. He could feel the bags under his eyes—the desperate need for his body to rest. It felt like so long since he had told his mother he would be leaving for a while, and took his car on a road trip with no stops, no breaks, and no real sleep. Besides a brief stint in Colorado at the gas station and another in a South Dakota parking lot, Rob had not slept. “I’m nineteen,” he answered truthfully. The woman rolled her eyes. She produced a key that had seen better days. “You’re in room 106,” she said. “Ice machine is down the outside hall. There’s a vending machine, too, if you need something. All the local shops are closed until morning, though.” Rob nodded. “Thanks,” he muttered to her. He moved his car from the front to the side of the small building, near his room. In the cold Montana air he moved a single bag of luggage into the small room. The carpet was green, and the entire room smelt like it hadn’t had a decent wash since the 90s. The comforter was a horrendous, purple-red quilted pattern, and the furniture was all red-tinted wood. Rob pulled out a couple bottles of beer he had smuggled from his parents house before leaving, and set them on the table. He moved back outside with the ice bucket, and found the hallway the front counter worker was talking about. He shivered in his t-shirt and shorts as he waited for the ice to slowly pour from the machine. He would’ve packed warmer clothes if he had known how far he would travel. But each exit that passed, each state line, just drove him to keep going. To just keep driving. To get away. “You’re not from here, are you?” A voice said from behind him. Rob turned to see a brunette woman with one hand on her hip and the other clasping her own ice bucket. She seemed about his age or so; with deep, almost wrinkled bags under her eyes and a face full of freckles. “If I was, I wouldn’t be here,” Rob said flat. He scratched at the patchy stubble across his chin, before turning back around. “I’m from Kentucky, myself,” she said. “Heard about some cool mountain trails up here. Real desolate. Brought some psychedelics with me to see the sunrise while tripping. Heard it’s really something special. You use?” Rob was surprised at her forwardness, but answered: “Not usually. I’m from California. I’ve heard that’s more of an eastern thing.” “Ah,” she said. “Cali. So you do pot.” Rob nodded. His ice finished filling his bucket, and he turned to leave. “Got any beers to go with that ice?” She asked, her head tilting to once side with a smirk. Rob paused for a moment. He was so far from home. Was this really worth doing? Under typical circumstances, a random hookup was not Rob’s idea of a good time. He had never enjoyed the few times he had done it, and having Hayden in the back of his mind was not helping. It really hadn’t been very long since then. But this really wasn’t a normal circumstance. “Yeah,” he said. “But I don’t know if you’ll like it.”[/i] — [i]Three hours later, he and the girl passed a joint back and forth as they lay in bed beside each other. Both were naked, but things had happened so fast, neither had even made it under the covers. [/i] [i]“I still can’t believe you did that,” she said, looking down at the tattoos which sprawled across her naked form. “Like, holy shit. Three days in a car. What did you do when you needed to shit?”[/i] [i]Rob shrugged. “Pull over.”[/i] [i]The girl seemed to think, then laugh. “I knew Montana would be a blast. There’s nothing to do up here but look at things and fuck.” [/i] [i]She climbed out of the bed, passing the joint back to Rob, then put her clothes on.[/i] [i]
“I’d sleep here, but,” she started, “I did already book my room.”[/i] [i]Rob laughed. “Good night, then.”[/i] [i]“Good night.”[/i] [i]The girl closed the door, leaving Rob in the silence of the room once more.[/i] [i]As an hour passed, the silence was growing quickly from cathartic to suffocating. The emotions Rob had ignored soon came sweeping back to him; his abandonment of home, his city, his state. He felt so cliche, having ran like this. It wasn’t as if he ever intended to run away from home forever, but everything was just too strong at home. The suffocation that he had felt so strongly at home had seemed to follow him here. No matter how far he would run, it always seemed like these feelings would follow him here.[/i] [i]He finally decided to pull out his phone, scrolling down to his contacts and finding the person he was looking for:[/i] 
[i][b]Austin.[/b][/i] [i]The phone rang twice before a familiar voice caught on:[/i] [i][u]“Where the fuck are you?”[/u] [/i] [i]Rob let out a small sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”[/i] [i]“Try me.”[/i] [i]“…Montana.”[/i] [i]“Alright, alright,” Austin said, half-joking-half-livid. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.” “…look,” Rob began, “Things got crazy at home. I just needed to get away for a while.” “Rob, normal people go for walks on the beach when they need to get away. Maybe go visit their favorite shop in town. They don’t drive to [u]fucking[/u] Montana.” “I’m not…” Rob started, pinching his nose and trying to think straight. The haze of the high had fogged his thinking. “I’m not trying to freak anyone out. I just started driving. I wasn’t paying attention. All I wanted to do was keep going.” “Well, mission success then,” Austin’s cold sarcasm came through. “You’ve got Jane fucking worried sick. She’s here right now. Want to tell her where you are?”[/i] [i]“No, I don’t, look, just—“ Rob started, but it was too late. He could hear the phone being passed, and a soft, sigh seemed to come from the other end.[/i] [i]Pissing off Austin was one thing. Rob seemed to do it every so often, usually due to miscommunication or his constant need to perfect the few songs they had created together. But he had always hated to piss off Jane. Even in the short time he had known her…she was the only one he really respected. Actually cared for. Something he couldn’t even claim about his father. “Hey, J…” Rob breathed out. “Before you talk, I’m fine. I’m staying at a hotel. Tomorrow I’m turning around and heading back.” Silence on the other end. Rob continued:[/i] [i]“I never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings or make anyone worry about me. Plus, I know you’re just trying to graduate and I didn’t want to bother you with this. Or…maybe I did want to. I just didn’t think I should.”[/i] [i]The breathing on the other end of the line was the only signification that he was speaking to her. “I’m not honest with you because I’m not honest with myself. I know that’s fucked up, but it’s who I am right now. Hopefully one day that changes. I just…I just hope there’s better shit in bloom for us soon.” Amidst it all, Rob couldn’t help but laugh slightly at his own choice of words. In Bloom. The fuck did that mean?[/i] — Rob’s eyes slowly drew open as he felt another figure move beside him. [i]Where was he again?[/i] The blurred memories of the night and mornings before he had taken those dreadful pills all seemed like some hazy memory, to the point where he couldn’t tell if he was still dreaming or not. Had this happened before? Slowly, the memories came back to him as he felt lips against his skin. He was on a tour bus. He was in Europe. He had traveled this far with his three friends from Long Beach. He didn’t know how much farther they would go. His eyes opened to see Jane’s own eyes in front of him. [i]“I wanna pick up where we left earlier and talk, but not right now.”[/i] What did she mean by that? Rob’s thoughts tried desperately to decipher where they had left off. Had they talked recently? Surely. Rob could remember nights on rooftops and nights in this cot, where the two of them had talked about about themselves…each other… Wait. It was coming back. As soon as Jane’s lips pressed against Rob’s he remembered. He loved her. His body fully awakened, pulled Jane closer to him. He loved her. It was all he could think about. All he wanted to do was show her. Without saying a word, without even another thought, this was all he wanted to do. — Afterwards, Rob found himself more at peace than any time he could remember. He laid on his back, with Jane resting atop him, holding her and feeling her breath against his. All of his restless thoughts had long since faded, and he simply wanted to be here. Whether it was his own epiphany or simply the effects of the drugs in his system, he was no longer sure. He no longer cared, either. Soon, the moment faded, and Jane had left once again. She had just begun to speak, but something had taken her away from him. She told him it was for drinks with Austin and Andy. She smiled, had taken his hand, and was away again before Rob could think of another word to say. it had all happened so fast. — Another hour passed, and Rob found himself sitting on the tour bus’ couch, drinking his third cup of coffee. The final waves of his terrible mistake had washed over him and left him out to dry once again. He felt sober-minded for the first time in…he wasn’t sure how long. The bus was quiet, for once. It seemed that at least one of their crew was walking around at all times—a constant movement and reminder of where they were, and what they were doing. But now, in this empty room, with just the gentle hum of the car conditioning unit and the music, things felt finally normal. Behind him, [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGwu6uKzedc]Pale Black Eye by Manchester Orchestra[/url] played on in the background, while he tapped a foot along to the beat. Did he want to meet with the others for drinks? It had seemed so soon, too soon to meet back with Jane after what had been said. Rob could easily sense that it was something she was thinking about. From the passionate love to trying to discuss it before leaving, Rob knew this needed to be addressed. And he sure as hell wanted it to be. After all that had happened—all that the two had been through, could they not just sit down and tell each other the truth? That they loved each other? Going out for drinks after that just felt…disingenuous, he supposed. The serenity was interrupted soon before he could finish his thoughts—a knock had come at the door. Rob stood up, and moved to open it. Outside stood a woman around or younger Rob’s age; she had sharp fiery bangs that just touched the rim of her glasses. She wore a lethal smile, a long t-shirt the band had been selling this tour, and little else. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a burly man make his way out of the venue and approach them. “Hi!” The girl said before Rob could do much more than look. She held out a hand, and spoke fast. “I’m Jamie. I’m [i]so[/i] sorry for barging in like this, but I just saw the tour bus, and I couldn’t help but—“ “Hey!” the security guard shouted at them, now within earshot. Jamie looked up to Rob with pleading eyes. “I really don’t—“ Rob started, but he just didn’t have it in him. One moment, he had been sitting and drinking coffee. The next, ambushed by a fan. He just needed more time to process… “It’s ok,” Rob finally said to the guard, who seemed more annoyed than anything, and turned back to the venue. “Thank you, thank you!” Jamie beamed. “You won’t regret it, I promise.” The fan whipped out the band’s most recent record from her large purse, and held a permanent marker out to sign it. “I’d ask for the other members to come out,” she mused, “but to be honest, it’s [i]your[/i] signature I’m after.” “You’d be out of luck,” Rob said comfortably. “They aren’t here.” Jamie waited until Rob finished signing the record before speaking again, slipping it back into her purse. “Bucharest’s a big place. Tons to do here.” “I’m sure,” Rob said, grabbing the door. “Well, I hope to see you out at the show tonight—“ “Oh, I’m sorry!” Jamie cut off again. She seemed antsy, and quite forward. “I just thought—oh, this is so bad of me—that maybe, if you wanted…I could stay a while, you know? Just for a bit.” Rob tried hard to clearly understand what Jamie had been saying to him. Allowing his eyes to drift upwards, he noticed two or three people standing on the other side of the fence separating the busses from the main street. One of them held a DSLR aimed directly towards them. Where had all of this come from? It had all seemed so sudden. “I’m sorry,” Rob said, “I’m just a bit busy with something. After the show, we typically stay around to chat—“ “Oh, it doesn’t have to be long,” Jamie said, her smile shifting to more of a playful smirk. “I’m not here to take any more time than you’d need. I’m sure you’ll get back to your stuff afterwards.” Was she really asking him for this? Perhaps he had been much more oblivious to this side of touring, or maybe he had simply not cared before. Either way, Rob felt increasingly more uncomfortable with the whole ordeal—including the camera aimed at the two of them. “I’m afraid I’m just not interested,” Rob said, slipping more and more into the bus. His eyes locked with the security guard by the venue, and he began making his trek back over to them. “I hope you enjoy the show.” “Wait,” Jamie started. “You don’t think…you thought I was going to fuck you?” All of the sensuality in her voice was replaced with a sharp, fake rage. She rushed the door, pushing against it as Rob tried to hold it shut. [i]Jesus, she was really going for it…[/i] “What the fuck do you think I am? I come all the way out here, I buy tickets—“ By then the security guard grabbed at Jamie’s shoulders, and she tried to wrench free, to no avail. The man was a brute. Rob closed and locked the door immediately after, but could hear her muffled screams and yells for almost a minute until she had been taken far enough away. Rob peered out the window to see the three people, now all with cameras in hand, snapping photos directly at both the bus and the “fan” as she was led away. — Twenty minutes passed, and Rob could clearly see the images on a few local “news” sites. First those of the two talking, then the violent outburst that quickly followed. Any desire of his to leave the room was so quickly faded after the incident. His life and his prestige had shown it’s ugly side, and he was surprised, after thinking on it, that it hadn’t happened sooner. He couldn’t help but wonder at the entire event—whether or not Jamie was involved with the photographers. Or if Jamie was even “Jamie” at all. Rob pulled out his phone, and shot a text over to Jane: [i]7:02 PM, Rob:[/i] [b]Some deranged fan ambushed me at the tour bus. Not really feeling up for drinks.[/b] He closed the phone, thought for a moment, then sent again: [i]7:04 PM, Rob:[/i] [b]Hope we get a chance to talk soon.[/b] Between the fan interaction, the drug-induced memories, and all that he had been through, Rob was growing tired of being here with his own thoughts. Especially knowing that the confession of love on his part would not go unspoken. He felt surrounded on all sides. The fame they had amassed was now growing much more sinister than before. How much longer could they venture the cities on their own? If it was this bad in Europe, how would it be in America? Feeling paranoid, Rob pulled out the phone number sent to him from Harold for the venue, and requested a security escort into the building. Soon, two men arrived at the door, and Rob followed them idly across the concrete and towards the venue. His head remained down and his eyes behind sunglasses as he felt the flash of lights to his right, on the main road. The line for the show had already grown what seemed to be a quarter mile long. Soon enough, he made it inside the building and made it to the waiting room. He sat down, pulling a handful of chips from the table’s bowl, and absentmindedly ate in the silence. He could see outside the door from his perspective, which seemed to lead straight to the stage. In Bloom was up first this night, but Rob could see Trent already working on some of his drum equipment, back facing to him. Soon, Zoe’s form passed by, tuning her strings. She looked inside the room and briefly made eye contact with Rob, before quickly slipping out of view. Rob could almost feel himself roll his eyes at the thought. How was Zoe holding up after the fallout? How was Vicarious doing as a whole? Sure, he could ask Jane, but how would that conversation go? How were they going to explain and comfort each other after all that shit? How the fuck were they ever going to get alone together again? “Fuck,” Rob muttered under his breath. So many questions. So many [i]fucking[/i] questions.