Rob and Austin climbed into the cab, but before Rob could tell the driver the way back to the lot, Austin slipped forward to him. 

“Take us to a nice coffeeshop,” he said suddenly. The driver nodded, and the car pulled off of the curb. 

Before Rob could ask, Austin turned to him:

“I mean, come on. You’ve got to be tired of drinking beer at ten in the morning.”

“Alright, alright.” Rob said, leaning back. Spending time with Austin was probably for the best. His relationship with Jane had already improved so much, it was only fair to try and make amends with each person in the group. He had no idea how long the feeling would last. 

On the way, Rob pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them. After talking to the driver, he put it on Instagram with the caption: 

[i]Me and @Austin_Hull are hitting up Caffe Amouri Coffee Roaster in Vienna. Come on out if you’re already awake and waiting for the show.[/i]

“If I’m going to get ambushed by fans,” Rob said, “then it’s going on my terms.”

Austin couldn’t help but laugh, and the two continued talking all the way to the shop. 

Once they got inside, Rob and Austin were greeted by a sizable group that had gathered in the past ten minutes. Rob and Austin took turns shaking hands and ordering coffee, and soon they had dragged a few tables around and hung out with the dozen or so people. Another ten or so filed in as they waited, and the two band members made sure to sign any merch placed in front of them.

It was a nice experience, to say the least. Rob’s impromptu experiment had worked, and for good reason. Aside from interviews, Rob—and to some extent, the rest of the band—hadn’t made any effort to be accessible to the fans. Part of it was the stress of the road, but the other half seemed to be little more than negligence. Meetings like this—with twenty people or so, that he could learn the names of—were much more comfortable than confrontations outside of the tour bus. 

A half hour later, many of the fans had gone off, promising to be at the show. Rob and Austin both took names down to get the fans some free stuff that night at the show, and after taking some photos, had about wrapped up the meetup. 

“Maybe that’ll help with our ‘press problems,’” Austin joked to Rob as the two made their way outside. “Still dunno what the fuck that Madeline girl was on about.” 

A part of Rob wanted to pull out his phone to check and see what the news had been saying about them recently, but the better half of him argued against it. It was only depressing to him to see—rumor mills churning out noise about Jane, along with some people still on about Rob’s radio blowup back in the states. He had avoided it a while ago, but the buzzing in his pocket forced him to pull out the phone regardless. 

[i]1 New Voicemail from Jane[/i]

Rob listened to it as he and Austin waited for a cab to arrive. By the time the voicemail ended and Rob climbed into another cab, his happier mood had already faded.

“What’s up?” Austin asked, seeming to have noticed. 

“I don’t know yet,” Rob said, pulling out his phone, “but it’s not good.” 

Of course it couldn’t last, Rob thought to himself. It never could. He braced himself for whatever was about to come up. What could it be this time? More nudes? No….he doubted that. And felt bad for even assuming. Maybe it was something with Vulture back in the states? No…Jane wouldn’t apologize for that. 

It wasn’t until the image of Jane and Andy locked together that Rob realized what Jane had apologized for. 

Rob felt his skin start to boil immediately—his face rushed with blood, and he couldn’t do anything more than stare at the screen. 

“Rob,” Austin said, having looked over to the phone. “Breathe man. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.” 

Slowly letting some air out, Rob scrolled down to see more news. In fact, Variety seemed to have a new exclusive, posted no more than ten minutes ago. 

“Well, it can’t be any worse than that, right?” Rob heard Austin say next to him but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to scream. Right then and there, he wanted to yell until his vocal chords fried. Why couldn’t things be normal for just one [i]fucking[/i] day? 

His phone loaded up the Variety article, with the headline: 

[b]In Bloom members living Vicariously through their co-headliner.[/b]

Scrolling down, Rob could see the newest image of Jane and Andy together, but even more was to come. Below, several more images appeared; these, with himself in them.

First, and image of him and Zoe out on the park bench, yelling to each other. The day they had broken things off. 

Next, an image of Rob confronting the fan outside of the bus a few days ago. The image was less than flattering—with Rob waving his hand as her as the fan was taken away, screaming. 

Than, a picture of Aaron helping Rob into the bus after his drunken night. Rob looked kneeled over in this photo, mid-vomit, for all the world to see. 

The article was even more damning—a long piece on the ballad of Rob and Jane. About how Jane was living it up with Andy while Zoe supposedly dumped Rob, leaving him in a downward spiral. 

Suddenly, a new text message popped up on screen.

[i]10:25AM, Zoe:[/i] [b]We need to talk about this.[/b] 

Rob watched as the messaged again, and stared blankly at his screen. The entire ride back, neither member said a word. Once the cab had parked, Rob exited and walked directly away from the busses. From the venue, and from anything else that threatened to make this any worse. 

He had made his way down an alleyway close-by, heading Austin’s footsteps following. Soon, as he was passing a pile of garbage near a dumpster, he felt Austin’s hand atop his shoulder.

“Rob—“ Austin managed to get out. 

Finally, Rob snapped. 

[i]”FUCK!”[/i] Rob roared, and immediately slammed his fist over and down into the nearest trash bag. It exploded on impact. 

[i]”Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”[/i] he roared, over and over again. He continued to beat the ever-loving shit out of the garbage in front of him. Soon enough, he punched his was through a glass bottle with his left hand, and immediately saw blood pouring from his arm. He grabbed it with his free arm, slamming his back against the wall and sliding down it, sitting on the asphalt. 

Austin approached after a moment—silently tearing the bottom off of his old My Morning Jacket shirt and tying it around Rob’s bleeding wrist. 

[i]”Hey,”[/i] Austin said forcefully, locking eyes with Rob. ”[i]Breathe.[/i] You need to breathe, man.”

Rob nodded, but said nothing. In his mind, everything he, Andy, Jane, and Zoe had done was now public to the world. 

And for the most past, a lot of that was true. 

“Seriously, dude,” Austin said. “We can discuss this later. But you need stitches. Now.”

—

Thirty minutes passed quickly enough, and Rob watched as the doctor loaded the last of the stitches into his forearm. Twelve in total. 

“It was a clean cut,” the doctor said in a heavy accent. “It should heal quickly enough. We’ll give you a shot of antibiotics, just in case.”

“Can I play tonight?” Rob muttered through clenched teeth.

“I don’t recommend it,” he said. “Not at all. But…you should be able too. It did not cut any serious muscles for your wrist.”

“Thank god,” Austin muttered from his chair in the corner. The doctor soon excused himself and stepped out of the room once he finished. 

“Any word from the others?” Rob managed to ask. The stitches had certainly taken the edge off of his anger, but he still didn’t dare look at the phone burning a hole in his pocket. He had felt it vibrate multiple times, but couldn’t bring himself to look at it. 

“Harold’s still assembling a game plan,” he said. “He still wants us to play but we’re instructed not to breathe a word about anything. Just play the set and leave. He’s not happy.”

“Vicarious?” Rob asked.

“I think they’re pulling out for tonight,” he said. “But I’m not sure. Harold can’t even reach them. It’s pretty much….pretty much on us to get in touch with them.” 

Rob nodded, his head nearly pulsing from the stress. All he wanted right now was to be away from all of this. But…not quite completely. 

He wanted to be with Jane. He couldn’t quite explain it. He wasn’t exactly happy with her—in fact, he wasn’t sure if he was really angry at her or not. But all he wanted was to be with her. 

All he wanted more than anything right here, right now, was just to be with Jane. 

It was what drove him to leave the hospital, picking up a cab and riding with Austin back to the lot. 

It was was drove him to suck up the courage to open the door into the tour bus. 

And as he did so, he had no idea how he was about to react to any of it. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Jane’s continued fling with Andy, or the press release about it. Or how the press seemed to think Zoe had cut ties with him, instead of the reality of it being the other way around. Or how he felt about going one more day on this insane, bat-shit crazy tour. 

He had no idea what he was going to say. Or who he was going to be angry at. Or who he was going to forgive. 

He had no idea at all.