HangYourSecrets

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

It was another relatively silent trip. It was something to be expected, after last night, but Rob still loathed the silence nonetheless. Jane had crawled over into the back seat, and Austin held the wheel softly as he drove in silence. Rob was slouched far down into his seat, his feet propped up against the glass, and his eyes closed underneath his dark sunglasses. Sleeping would’ve made the trip’s eight hour duration so much shorter, if he could just pull off passing out. By the third hour he had sat up, stretching his sore muscles and given up on trying. There wasn’t much more point.

Taking the AUX cable, Rob hooked up his phone and opened his Spotify. “I need to wake up,” he mumbled to Austin. Finding the song he wanted, he cranked the volume and played The Physical World - Death From Above 1979.

The song opened with an assortment of noise; a symphony of beeps and bloops. Austin's head turned to Rob as he muttered something to himself.

“Wait for it..” Rob said. Suddenly, the electronics dropped out, and the song truly began. As the main line ended for the first pulsing verse and its conjoining, repetitive riff, the car felt alive again. Austin nodded his head to the beat as Rob let out a smile. They hadn’t been nearly as close to each other in recent days, but perhaps just playing a song and listening together would’ve been good for them. He had seen him talking to Jane earlier, but he paid it no mind. Austin was bound by his own respectable morality; his sense of loyalty to both and preference to none. He knew Austin would never breathe a word of Jane’s thoughts to Rob, so there was no point in asking.

Instead, Rob took the time otherwise wasted on pointless pestering to think slowly and carefully about his present situation. He was an analytical person at heart, it it may have done him a bit of good to take a moment and analyze.

There was no point in denying the fact that he could not force or persuade Jane to do anything. She was her own person, and Rob his. It was unfair of him to expect her to reciprocate feelings, ease his pains, or to give any other sort of solace to him. It was true that she had hurt him the other night, and for that he was upset, but he had to know who Jane was. There was a balance he needed to strike between denying her of the respect she deserved and the time he so desperately wanted to spend with her, and keeping himself sane without temptation laying around every corner, promising to bite him in the ass if he so much as indulged.

What it came down to was this: he needed to keep some distance between himself and Jane. And perhaps not so much the cold loneliness he portrayed to her at the start of the tour, but if he continued to lay himself down at her feet, there was no reason he should expect to get anything other than trampled. So he needed to find a way to treat her like the friend she felt him to be, without opening himself up further to any misery. He had no reason to think Jane wanted anything other than friendship from him.

There was also his emotions to account for, for the very first time for Rob. He was not a man of passion, but one of logic. So how do you logically deal with emotions? It was a question Rob had been asking himself and had no answers too. The bitter truth was, no matter how much he tried and analyzed, he couldn’t protect himself from…well, himself. And his true self so desperately wanted to be with Jane. No matter how much of a wall he wanted to build, there was always going to be a primary weakness. If she willed it, those walls could come tumbling right back down, leaving him as broken and hurt as the day Anna had left him, and he realized that it was himself to blame.

Rob pushed it all away as Jane spoke, telling them all about the radio station wanting to interview the band, and it made him smile. Beyond what was between Rob and Jane, things had well and truly improved. The life they had always wanted was formulating in front of them. All they had to do was seize it. Rob knew about this, and knew that in order to survive, he would have to be logical. He would have to try. For the sake of everyone, and for the sake of himself.

When they had pulled over at another mall to eat, Rob had made his way over to a salad bar and gotten a plain salad without dressing, along with an iced tea. In the middle of the stop, Rob had saw Jane. He knew the longer they both ignored the current situation, the worse off either of them would become.

“Hey J,” he said smiling as he approached her. They were the same first words he had said to her at the start of it all. “I uh, I don’t know what the others had told you, but I didn’t want to feel like there were problems between us.”

He took a deep breath. “We’re friends, Jane. And I can’t change what I said or how I feel but—I respect how you feel about all of that.”

He wanted so bad to tell her not to toy with him anymore. To stop the nights they slept together. To stop being so intimate if all she was ever going to be was be a friend—

“I want us to be normal again. So…I’ll treat you normal if you treat me normal?”

He put on a smile as he pulled her in for a quick hug. His face brushing against her hair, smelling her for the first time since that night on the pull-out couch, so long ago it seemed.

“I’ll see you around, then.”

He moved away, sliding back outside to eat his salad as he watched people passing by. It was relaxing for one, but it was also healing. He thought he was strong enough to be cordial with Jane, but he had almost lost his sense again. His resolve was only so strong, and he was only so human. He needed to try to find a way to make this work for her, or else it would eat him up inside.

So he finished his food, went to the store for a coffee, and met back up with the group. They had arrived at the hotel a few hours later. When they checked in, however, Rob’s ideas seemed less and less likely.

“It’s four rooms,” the man said behind his counter. He held four keys in his hand, “but two apartments; each with two bedrooms. You’ll find a full kitchen and living room inside as well.”

Austin swooped in and grabbed the first two keys, both for the first room, and tossed the other one to Sam. Rob watched in near-horror as the two ran off, smirking at him and Jane as they left. This was just fucking perfect.

As soon as Jane and himself entered the room, Rob quickly realized just how close each room was. He’d be just a few inches away from Jane every night for a half-week.

“I’m going to change real quick,” he said to Jane, dragging his stuff into the first room and softly closing the door without bothering to lock it. He immediately pulled out his phone and texted Harold:

7:37, Rob: I thought we had four rooms.

7:38, Harold: You do. It’s one of the nicest hotels in the area.

7:39, Rob: Did Sam put you up to this?

7:41, Rob: He tried to talk me out of it. Figure it out, Rob.

Rob tossed his phone to the bed as he pulled his shirt and pants off, then sat at the edge of the bed. What was the number one rule of unrequited feelings?

No unnecessary contact.

Not even a day in, and his plan was already fucked.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Sometime past the third or fourth movie (Rob couldn’t remember which), there was a knock at the door. Moving to open it, Rob brushed the remainder of the crumbs off of his hoodie and half-waddled at the door under the weight of the food within him.

“Dude,” Austin said as he barged right in. Rob could only roll his eyes as he closed the door behind him. Austin sat on the bed and took in a deep breath. “Smells like pizza and B.O. in here.”

Rob scratched at his head as he moved to the wall to his left, leaning against it as he faced Austin. “What’s up?” he shot out scathingly. “Am I due another lecture about how I’m not handling myself correctly?”

“God, you’re both assholes,” Austin said, prompting Rob to think: what did Jane do today? Before an answer came, Austin continued. “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t really fucked up.” Austin’s eyes locked to the mini-fridge ahead of him.

“I can handle myself now,” Rob said. “I’m not drunk. I’m not going to get drunk…look, can we just not do this?” He tried to put a smile on. “Let’s do something. Anything. Go somewhere. Do something.”

But Austin stood and made for the door. “I’ve got my own shit to deal with, but thanks. It’s enough handling you two.”

Austin slid out as quickly as he came in. He didn’t seem mad, but he certainly seemed frustrated, and Rob couldn’t blame him for that. Not anymore. In the midst of what Jane and Rob were doing, Sam and Austin got pushed aside. They were left to try to deal with half of their band seemingly falling out. And while it hurt Rob to see his friend so tired of dealing with him, he understood that he couldn’t drag him around to make himself feel any better.

And thinking about that just made Rob more angry for what Jane had done that day. It wasn’t going to be any good for him to think anymore. Grabbing his room key, he slipped out the door, made his way to the elevators.

As the doors closed, Rob looked to the buttons without pressing any. The elevator sat still, waiting to be told what to do. His eyes made it’s way back between two buttons; the lobby floor, and Jane’s floor.

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and pressed a button. As the elevator slowed to a stop and opened, he walked over to Jane’s room.

Here, the door was open. A bag had been thrown across the room and sat limply upon the floor. Jane lay on the bed; her face buried within the thick comforter sheets. Based on sight and smell alone, it seemed like she had herself quite a day, yet it was only eight that evening. 

Rob wanted to feel angry at her. For going off and suppressing her thoughts and feelings with drugs and cheap liquor. In strange men and cigarettes. But it was something he had done today as well. And while he might not have done it in the same way, it didn’t matter. Both of them never wanted to deal with how they felt. And looking at Jane now like this; as vulnerable as she was, he couldn’t feel any anger within him.

Rob made his way into the room, closing the door behind him. He picked up her bag and set it upon the counter. He made his way over to Jane, and nudged her gently. She was still fast asleep in the same sort of alcohol-induced coma he had seen her in a few times before.

He picked her up gently; turning her around and holding her back in his left arm and her legs in the right. He slipped off his shoe and kicked the comforter off the bed, before setting her down on the clean sheets. He pulled the comforter over her and took a step back. Rob could see why Jane had constantly held him; slept with him. There was a sort of peace to be found in sleep. There were no words, no anger…just calm. And while he felt hurt and torn by her, he also knew that in this moment she could do no ill to him. Rob slipped out the door, closing it gently, before making his way up to his floor.

As he came out through the elevator, his phone rang: Harold.

“How’s everything going?” he asked over the line calmly.

“I don’t know at this point,” Rob answered. “We play our shows well. Off-stage we’re still trying to figure ourselves out, I guess.”

“Any new material?” he asked. He had known the band long enough to know material seemed to spur from moments like these. Bad nights and worse mornings.

“I play the drums,” Rob deflected. “I don’t write material.”

“Bullshit. I know you bought the guitar.”

Fuck. He knew.

“Look, it’s just a hobby,” Rob said faux-happily. “I’m just picking it up to get a feel for it. Besides, I need some time off if you want more shit like the single. And I’m sure you do.”

“You can’t blame me for wanting the band to be more marketable,” Harold said. “I’m no music expert, but I know that your more straightforward music sells better. I’m just suggesting you stick to that.”

“Sure Harold, whatever you’d like!” Rob mocked as he hung up the phone. He had no patience to deal with the band wanting to slowly drain the life of of their music. There wasn’t any fun in 4/4 time and standard beats, or in carefully manufactured fun. They played rock music. That used to mean something.

He slid the phone back into his pocket as he opened his room door again. Inside, it really did smell like shit, but there was no point in cleaning it now. Rob had other things in mind.

Pulling out a few joints he had made earlier on the trip, Rob slowly covered the room in a haze. He slid the guitar out from under his bed and played a few of the chords he had settled on, before writing down a few lyrics he had been throwing around:

The broken souls in torn-down homes
A nascent hope in aging tomes
A burning fear of what becomes of you.

Rob thought for a moment, then:

With fear of what’s beyond their wither
“There must be life beyond a hearse”
They’ll never stop to consider:
eternity is so much worse.

In frustration, Rob crumpled up words he’d written and tossed them into the trashcan. How could he be so foolish as to think he could write songs without being heavy-handed and blunt? His mind wasn’t built for such things. Even worse was the thought that if Harold had his way, their music from now on would only be what people wanted to hear.

Sex, Drugs, and Rock ’n’ Roll.

Frustrated, Rob set the guitar down and threw a song on his speakers as he cleaned the room: Hole - Royal Blood.

Rob could only laugh himself and at the lyrics as he sang them:

“I’m just stuck in a hole.”

He finished cleaning after himself and slipped into bed soon after, hoping tomorrow would at the least be more successful.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

The first thing that next morning, Rob had taken a taxi over to a local music shop. After talking with the owner for a bit, he allowed Rob into the back room for practice a few songs in peace. After what had happened, he needed to clear his head. So…he cued up a song he typically only played to release anger: Thrice - The Earth Will Shake.

It started out so soft…

We dream of ways to break these iron bars. We dream of black nights without moon or stars.

Rob thought of the night before. The calm he had shared with Jane as she had awoken him. The feeling of her skin against his; her weight atop his. The trust, the silence…all of it. He allowed himself to feel every emotion as the song built underneath him, feeling the emotion surrounding it. Next, came the call-and-answer section:

Heartbroken we found a gleam of hope. Harken to the sound, a whistle blows. Heaven sent reply however small. Evidence of life beyond these walls

As the sound grew louder, Rob began to think of his darker thoughts. His frustration at her reluctance. Her closed-off approach to how she had handled her own feelings. The way she had felt somehow justified in rejection of himself, only to lie with him in the night like his own feelings hadn’t mattered. He had told her she couldn’t protect him from how he felt. And the full force of those emotions, the frustration…all of it was beginning to take over.

Suddenly, the song dropped to silence. The mantra repeated itself over and over:

We dream of ways to break these iron bars. We dream of black nights without moon or stars.

Calmly, Rob began to roll on his snare. First, holding onto strict control of the sticks. Then, as the end of the song drew near, harder and harder, until the head seemed to strain under the weight of his force. The call-and-answer returned. Louder. Fiercer. Madder. The symbols shook under the weight of his force. The equipment rattled at each crash—each strike. Finally, the songs devolved into it’s ending:

Look to the day the earth will shake. These weathered walls will fade away.

And as the final crash rang out, Rob dropped the sticks with a sigh upon the floor.

---

Rob wasn’t sure if he had a right to be mad at Jane about what had happened.

He had told her not to worry of his own feelings, but with each passing moment he regretted what he had said. He had opened himself up to her. Given out ammunition. A weapon to be used against him at-will, however consciously or unconsciously. Rob knew Jane would not willingly hurt him, but he knew she would willingly help herself.

Laying with him…holding him…kissing him. It was all for her. Rob knew that. But it was a cruel thing to have done to him and everything within him wanted to tell her to leave that night. But he couldn’t. Even if he could…he probably wouldn’t, either. There was a thing in him—however self-destructive— that wanted Jane, and it wanted her to be happy as well. It wouldn’t allow him to be mad at her for what she had done. But it certainly allowed him to feel betrayed.

Walking back into the hotel lobby, Rob saw Jane in the breakfast area, playing with her food as she sat by herself. He stopped for a moment, while she still didn’t see him. Still, even now, he knew he wanted her. But another voice shattered his thoughts:

“Hey!” Austin said loudly, approaching Rob from behind. He turned quickly to face his friend, however frustrated he was at the inconvenience of his timing. “You’re sweaty,” he said blankly.

Rob looked down to his own soiled shirt. “I had to get some energy out.” He frowned as he said it, and Austin seemed to instantly figure things out.

Before he could respond, Rob turned from Austin. “I’ll catch you later,” he said, and walked down the nearest hallway, keeping his back against the lobby and breakfast area. He heard a faint “great” from the distant Austin in his typical dry tone as he entered the elevator.

Arriving at his room, Rob showed off the sweat from earlier, slipped back into his old hoodie, and turned on his television to find a film. As he searched, he dialed room-service.

“Yeah, could I get a pizza up to my room?” He said into the receiver. “Yeah…sausage would be fine—oh, and pepperoni too. Plus a 2-liter of soda. …any kind. Surprise me.”

Rob hung the phone back up. He didn’t care about what the others might have wanted from him, or how they felt about what he was doing. But he needed some time away, and he needed some time alone. If he had to lock himself in his room and down his sorrows in pizza, there were worse ways to do it.

His eyes darted from the mini-fridge, then back to the opening credits of the movie he was starting: Gone Girl. A part of him wanted to get a beer from the fridge, but the rest knew it was a bad idea. Besides, this was the perfect movie for the moment:


Everything’s fucked up in it.

After the End

#RoryForPresident

@Shorticus

#MakeTheRealmsGreatAgain

After the End

I suppose it's best if we let the characters decide their own leaders for themselves, although I'm kind of honored you've seemed to lean my way. :)

Amos wouldn't take the role if it were verbally handed to him, but he's pragmatic, so he'd do what he felt he needed to do given the circumstances.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Rob’s eyes opened to a blurred and bright room. A figure sat next to him, nearly translucent from the lack of focus his eyes were giving him. Soon, everything cleared up, but the roaring in his head was not going to stop anytime soon.

He saw Jane as she tipped her body; her weight and warmth striking his chest. It was a feeling that he wasn’t sure how to describe; it was like the feeling of closure without any sense of the word. A glimpse of goodness wrapped in purgatory. So…oxymoronic. He closed his eyes and tried to sort out the most recent of mental floods, but he had been doing this all too often now. His feelings used to be a second-thought. A neglected part of his psyche that remained as such and he had hoped would always do so. He desired stability and reason, and once someone had come into his life, Rob had always thought it would come slowly and deliberately. Not like this. Not like a flood.

Jane sat up on his bed; her legs folded up in front of her, her eyes upon her hands. At this angle, her blonde hair hung down past her face, and grazed upon his shirt. The strands obscured his vision of her, and for a moment, he almost felt a tingle of anger. His commentary ran against her words. The words she wanted to hear struck flat across him and faded like a whisper. Words like funny. Smart. Attractive. Each in it’s own way felt like a red flag, signaling the deluge beyond them.

The words she croaked out like a sinful confession are the ones that had struck him the hardest.

”You know that’s not me."

As she continued on, the rest of her dialogue faded into background noise. He heard them, and processed them, but he couldn’t seem to focus past the admission of rejection. Whereas Jane worked in the real world, Rob’s mind worked in binary. True. False. Agree. Disagree. Yes.

No.

It was a truth he knew was coming but also knew he hadn’t been prepared for. Certainly not now. Jane’s forward attitude, her coming to his side so soon…they were all actions taken to Rob’s benefit, not hers. This moment. Her silence. Her willingness to listen. These were things she had done for him. Her actions outweighed her words, and her honestly all compelled Rob to feel some sympathy for his best friend.

He wished he could change what had happened between them. He wished it was something possible for him. Most of all, he cursed himself for having caused the issue in the first place, and he cursed himself for feeling so shitty in this moment.

“Thanks,” he said, taking a puff of the joint. He left the word sit in the open air, to be interpreted as she liked.

He took in a deep, loud, breath. “What have I gotten us into,” he said with a laugh. He tried so desperately to lighten the mood, but maybe that was the wrong path to take. How hypocritical is was of him to want an out now, after all the misery he had caused himself and Jane for desiring her to do something against her nature. But, it was time for her to hear the truth as well.

“You can’t protect me, Jane,” he said. Her full name felt wrong to his mouth but right in his own mind. He was glad that it was said. “Not from my feelings or from you. Not any more than I could protect myself. I’m not—nor would I ever—ask that of you.”

As Jane acted against her own nature, Rob acted against his. He took her hand, and held it. The soft skin felt so different from his calloused hands. Softer and slender. It was an action he could not remember doing before, but he pressed on.

“I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way. But it wasn’t something I ever wanted to admit because I didn’t want to mess things up either. But I did, and I guess that’s just something I’ll have to live with.”

He looked her in the eyes. “I don’t know what I want. I thought I wanted one thing but…I can’t control this way I’m feeling. I’ve never trusted anything I felt until now. And for some reason, it just feels right.”

After a moment, he laughed at himself, but he wasn’t sure what for. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He looked to Jane and smiled.

Not everything was right, but certainly, things were beginning to improve.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

The show had all gone according to plan, and with each evening and each show becoming even more fluid and comfortable than the last. It reminded Rob of a word his first boss had used; working as a sandwich maker as a summer job. Synergy. Connecting with others. Loosing the self to gain the whole. But, really, it was the truth. It was how Rob was beginning to feel on stage. Each intricacy of Austin’s bass. Each flare of Sam’s guitar.

Each note of Jane’s melodies. It all rang together perfectly.

And once it had ended, Austin had caught up with him as they moved to dismantle the stage.

“Killer show, Rob,” Austin said. His voice rang higher than Rob had once remembered it. He was cheerier than his usual self. He had been for a few days. “I like that little fill you threw in towards the end of Speechless. You never improvise on stage.”

Rob smiled. Anytime someone talked about that old B-side of theres they played made him happy. It had been, and probably always would be, his favorite track they had made. “I dunno. It just felt right.”

“Look, whatever happened between you and Jane—“ Austin started, but cut himself off as soon as he caught Rob’s glare, “…nevermind. Look. I’m just glad I feel like I’m talking to you. Rob. Not…whatever you put on usually.”

“Thanks,” Rob said, dripping with sarcasm, “I’m glad I please you.”

Austin punched him softly as they loaded up the car, seeing Jane coming in near the same time. She looked…off. It was funny, how before the rooftop conversation that had, Jane had seemed so herself and Rob felt off. Now…things had switched. It was as if there wasn’t a way for them both to be satisfied. Both to be happy.

Thinking of these things reminded Rob of how easy it wouldn’t been to dwell on what was going on between Jane. The silence that remained between them could fester up. As of now Rob felt good about what it was, but he was still riding the high of his feelings; enjoying the euphoria of finally speaking his mind. Knowing sometime soon Jane and Rob would finally talk things out. But with each passing moment these things didn’t happen, the high would recede, and someday soon, he’d be the one with the hangover.

It weighed on his mind as they returned, but strengthened as Jane hastily made a retreat:

”We, uh, we don't have to hang out tonight if you're tired,” her voice came, soft to him. Before he could respond, she was gone yet again, not waiting for a response. Not hearing what he had to say. He felt a tinge of anger dwell up inside him. I told you how I feel. I was open and honest. And this is how you repay me? More running? More silence?

Rob tried to shake the feeling off, but when he entered his room, all he could think of was Jane.

Now that his mind was open to the idea, he knew how attractive he found her. She was the opposite of the people most would go for, but it wasn’t to say she wasn’t attractive. She was beautiful. But her free spirit, her tangled locks and constant bare feet, her wild side…these were all things most guys he knew steered away from. They wanted the constant girl. The one with the B.S. going to grad school. The cute brunette with the big tits and love of beer. There was a distinction to be made, and a lot of men made it like this: The cool girl. Not the wild one.

Maybe that’s what drove him to her in the first place. Some sort of self-destructive tendency to want what he can’t have.

Self-fulfilling prophecy.

But…he could fight against it.

It had to be instinctual. Not thought out. Honest. Any other way would’ve just been lying to himself.

So, Rob sat up from his bed he had been laying on for hours, and made his way over to the desk in his room. Grabbing a pen, he made sure to write clearly and legibly, before moving back out of the room with both his main and spare key.

He made his way to Jane’s room, and slipped the spare key under the door along with the note:

I don’t bite! Come by if the room bores you sometime. -R

Satisfied with at least making the effort, Rob went back to his room, trying very hard to have no real expectations. After a quick shower, Rob threw on the news for a few minutes, before becoming sufficiently tired enough to doze off. If he had tried to sleep in silence, lord knows…

He would’ve been up all night thinking.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

His room was darkened. Every light was off, except for three red candles, giving the room a crimson glow. Rob sat on the floor at the foot of his bed. His feet were propped up against the wall and his back against the mattress he’d sleep on tonight. His teeth lightly grasped a pencil as his hands painfully belted out a few chords on his most recent guilty purchase; an acoustic guitar.

There was a silent agreement between Rob and the others that no one would impede on the other’s instrument of choice. That was, Sam would never write a bassline, Austin wouldn’t work on vocals, and so on. As the years had past, a few times exceptions had been made. But overall, the rule was respected.

Rob’s “guitar playing” wasn’t exactly a violation of an unwritten code; it was just something he felt like doing. He wanted to learn. He needed something in his hands. His mind had felt a peace from that night on the roof, but his body refused to step in line. And so, he had to pick up more hobbies on the road.

Rob hummed out a melodic line over a few chords, playing two or three a few times once the strings continued to buzz instead of ring. Pulling the pencil out of his hand, he scribbled down a few letters in quick scrawl: Em. G. C.

On one page were a few chords; a handful that were quickly growing to be an endless alphabet of indiscernible melodies. On the other were a handful of lyrics. One half overtly-sentimental, the other meaningless drivel. All of them felt forced, but was the truth behind them. They had been forced. It was all an exercise to Rob. Like the drums before this, it was a task he picked up as a task rather than a passion. There had always been few things Rob felt passionately about.

That was, until recently.

Silence had been the code between Rob and Jane ever since his breakdown. At least, in his own mind, it was how he referred to it—a moment of weakness, insecurity and introspection all rolled into a flood of information. He looked back on this moment with mixed feelings—he had to admit how he felt about Jane. It was the truth and it was going to come out one of these days. But, on the other hand…it was so odd for him. Out of character, even. He felt as if he proved to Jane that he was too unstable to be trusted or approached. Her silence both proved his theories and raised his anxiety significantly.

It was easy to push thoughts of Jane from his mind when he surrounded himself with other things and other hobbies. Such as the guitar he held in his hands. But this entire tour revolved around Jane. She was their front-woman. With certain bands, you associate all creative work from them from a singular entity; one person. Other members could change, but without the front? It all seemed to fall apart. To the band, Jane was just a part of the band. But to the world? She probably was the band.

And it wasn’t a thought that made any of them envious. Or, at least, not Rob. It was what he wanted. To live a live such as this without the burden of being recognized. Of being scrutinized for every action or reaction he would ever have. Because if there was one thing he had proved to himself, it was that he couldn’t even trust himself.

He wondered how long things could go unspoken. For either of them.

---

Rob came downstairs just on time. He had started to adapt a lighter wardrobe after that night on the roof. Maybe it was because of the relief, or maybe because each stage had brighter, hotter lights, but regardless, the hoodies were no longer going to work. He wore a black henley and dark blue jeans; both tight. The sleeves had been pushed up towards his elbows to keep them out of the way, and his hair seemed to hang lower; their unruly locks drooping near his shoulders.

Rob sat next to Jane as he approached her; their smiles open and honest for the first time in a while. But, as soon as she asked about hanging out, Rob could feel the unspoken work it’s way between them.

Rob tried hard not to think of any anterior motives Jane may have had for the evening she discussed. He knew her, and most of the time, her words were well-chosen and honest. But…it was hard not to think of those things. Not after that night.

“That sounds fun,” he said, wanting to say so many other things instead. I’d like that. I was hoping to spend time with you. I’d love to.

The list would never end, if he let it grow. And as Sam honked the horn at them, he stopped his thoughts completely, climbing into the seat behind Jane.

The sun had already set by this hour. Playing a late show was exciting, but also slightly scary. The daytime shows had been so much more enjoyable because the band knew people weren’t waiting for them. These days it felt more and more like the festivals aligned for them. Their names, usually small and towards the bottom of posters, were moved more and more to the top. Bigger and bigger. In the music scene, each day was a week. Each week a month. The time to take advantage of their situation was now. To go from a one-hit wonder to a band that really makes some great music. Music worth listening to.

Once they arrived, a group of people had arrived to help. Dressed in black as to blend in with the night, they helped load Rob’s drum set onto the stage. In fact, two days ago, Harold had called, and had Rob email specific instructions for his drum kit. Now, each show arrived, and stage hands were at the ready to speed the process up.

Once Rob had instructed the last of them, he walked off to the side, down a hidden alcove to the photo and security pit. The last of the crew for the previous band (Vulture, coincidentally) were cleaning off the last of the stage simultaneously as the band waited. He saw Anna, helping move a large riser off. Once she noticed him, she shot him a hateful glare, and subtly flicked him off with her free, lowered hand. Probably as to not cause suspicion. It was almost funny to see.

“Howdy stranger," came a familiar voice beside him. Rob turned to face Sam, who had found him in the pit and greeted him with a painful slap on the back. It was the first time they had spoken alone in a few days

“Hey, look, I’m sorry—“ Rob started, but Sam cut him off short.

“I don’t care,” Sam said. “You fixed the problem. You were drunk off your ass. So…forgiven.”

“Thanks,” Rob sighed. It was a conversation he had been dreading but was glad to be done with so quickly.

“Besides, you’ve got other band member’s feelings to worry about now.”

“Fuck.”

Did everyone know?

Before he could ask, Sam walked back off, just obviously enough to peak the interest of a few people lined up against the barricades. They cheered and hollered as they recognized the guitarist. He gave them a smile. “I’ve gotta go tune up,” he shouted over them. He pointed a finger to Rob. “But go get him! He’s the drummer!”

Sam smiled happily to Rob before turning away, as the crowd in front of him cheered and his anonymity was shattered. He ended up signing twenty CD’s, three shirts, two foreheads, and even a someone's cell phone before breaking off and remembering to find a way back at Sam later.

Even if he wouldn’t admit it, he was happier. Mostly. But Rob had always been a pessimist.

How long could this really last?

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

”Rob,” was the first word to come out of her mouth. It seemed to say so much. Hold so much weight. Understanding. And yet it was the only thing she would say.

And as she moved close to him and held him, Rob could feel the future play out in front of him. The next shows, the next tour…every moment they had been working towards. And he couldn’t shake the overwhelming sensation that if things hadn’t been messed up before…

…they surely were now.

And as he followed her, and lay down with her—as he felt her wrap her arm around him, and the cool air filled with hazy smoke from the joint shared between them. Her actions were so...honest. Real. And yet in them there was no denial, nor acceptance. Just...understanding.

Their breathing slowly aligned to each others, and the pulse shared moved with them. In. Out. In. Out.

Slowly, as Jane fell to sleep, and as his eyes began to close, he realized what he had done wasn’t something he could ever take back. All those years, all those moments with Jane he longed for again; they would never come back. A damning truth had cut between them. It was a truth that would remain for every word spoken, every touch shared, every intimate and platonic moment they would ever share.

Perhaps it would’ve been better to hide the truth from Jane. Maybe he could’ve come up here, acted as if it truly were the single that had thrown him for a loop. He could’ve lived a lie. He could’ve embraced that fallacy for the simple sake and making things they way they used to be. Yet, all of those possibilities, all of the opportunities, were all gone. All for the chance he had to really be intimate with a person he had never known to be so open.

It was all so fucking stupid.

And as he closed his eyes, he hoped as much as he figured Jane had hoped that this moment wouldn’t end. Because nothing could ever really be the same. Not with her. Not ever again.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Rob sat at the edge of his bed in his hotel room. The room was silent. No TV, no music…just the unbearable headache building in Rob’s head, replacing the warm feelings of the alcohol that had came before. Two small, single bottles of cheap vodka were all that remained. They sat on the small table ahead of him, waiting to be had whenever Anna had made her way over here. His cell phone sat next to him; the last message sent simply being an address and his room number: 504.

In the silence—the one Rob had fought for these past few days, the same one he had wanted all this time—as deafening him. Crushing him. It was like there was only this room, and only himself. As if there was a void outside that permeated on, into infinity.

A knock came at the door, and Rob stood to his feet, making sure to smile as he walked forward and turned the handle. On the other side was Anna.

Her bright eyes were the first thing he noticed. Her desires shown clear, though her dark irises; her lust. Sharp strands of clean blonde hair surrounded those eyes, one slipping downward, just brushing against her crimson lips. She wore a jet-black dress, tightly clinging to her body, accentuating every curve, heightening each of her features.

Rob led her into the room, and took the last shot of vodka with her. The cool, visceral fuel poured down his throat, coating the last of his throat with its warmth. The vice, renewed and reinsured by the arrival of Anna, helped distort his reality. With her, the silence was no longer necessary.

Rob pulled Anna close, but his something within him gave off one last attempt to delay what was to happen: “Did you want to do something, or—“

His sentence was cut off by a finger pressing against his lips. “Why wait?”

Nodding, Rob slipped a hand above his head, and brushed back the stray hairs obstructing his field of vision. Anna pulled in close, dropping considerably in height as she let her black patent heels slip from her feet. Rob felt his own hands pulling into her head, first cupping against her jawline, then sliding into her hair, jostling it around, tangling their ends. His other hand slid around and downward, grasping the dresses zipper and pulling it down. Her dress fell off easily, crumpling to the floor. Next, is was her turn, slowly unbuttoning his white shirt, revealing his clear skin; his toned chest. Only in these moments of lust was he aware of his own features.

The two itched closer to the bed, slowly but surely, until their knees struck the edge and they fell forward—collapsing onto the old bed. The loud protest of the box spring bounced throughout the room, shocked by the weight it had taken upon itself.

The two continued, but even as they did, there was a creeping feeling; a slow fade. Like a Tsunami, all day it had receded, slowly, surely…but now…it was returning as it once left. Increasing, gradually, unmistakably, until it would eventually become too much to handle.

And as hard as he tried, he could not keep these thoughts within him. They flowed out, consuming his physicality, effecting everything from his eye contact to his ability.

Finally, it was Anna who chose to stop, sliding off from astride him, ending up at the foot of the bed. She crossed her arms across her chest, in what seemed to be shame. “Jesus, Rob,” she said, “can we at least pretend she isn’t here?”

Rob gave her a confused look, but he had waited too long to confront Anna on the nature of their relationship. The reason he had been so apt to choose her. Anna couldn’t wait another moment for him to respond. “Look, I’m not saying what we’re doing isn’t fucked up, but would you stop—stop looking at me like I’m her!”

“I don’t know what you—“ Rob started, but he regretted his pathetic string of words the moment they left his mouth. They fell limply on the floor, and were soon crushed by Anna’s immediate onslaught:

“Don’t you fucking patronize me! I’m just off-stage for every show you do. I see the way you look at Jane. I know that look. I’m fine with being casual, believe me—but I’m not going to play surrogate for another woman.”

“You’re not a surrogate,” Rob said, regaining some confidence. He sat up on the bed, but any renewed confidence wasn’t going to combat the inevitable.

“I’m not stupid, Rob,” Anna sighed, softer than before. “I know I look like her. Both times we’ve…you always try to make me look more like her. You fuck up my hair. You treat me like…I don’t know. I’m your bandmate, not a roadie.” After a moment, she started again.

“I’m not going to get in the middle of you two. I’m not going to mess up whatever success you have or are going to have. But you need to sort yourself out, because what you’re doing here, is fucked up, man.”

Anna pushed herself up, picking up her black dress as she did, and began to slip it back on. Rob silently stood from the bed, pacing over to her and helping zip the dress back on her body. Anna put her shoes on, straightened out her hair, and slipped right out the door.

Rob stared straight ahead at the door for a long moment after. He could always see through the peephole from this distance. It was black out there. Dark.

As he pivoted in place and turned to the bathroom ahead, he stared dead into his own eyes as he approached. He no longer saw himself in this reflection. But another man.

This man was distorted and ugly. His hair sprouted out in all directions, curling meaninglessly out to the sky, fraying at it’s ends. His dark eyes grew rings beneath them; sagging grey skin, beyond any hope of recovering. His beard remained unkempt and long. His arms extended far beyond what was normal. His chest, through his white shirt, grew hair in all the wrong places.

He wasn’t a thing to love at all anymore. Each thing he had ever thought about himself seemed to be wrong. Everything he had ever felt before this one moment was all fucked up. It wasn’t even so much as an identity crisis. It was a self-realization. Each time he spoke, he lied. Each smile he gave, he faked. He had created an illusion of himself. A facade. Something he placed on each morning, and took off each night.

And each of these ideas, each of his insecurities, each of his faults and fuck-ups, they all had metastasized. Manifested into one singular entity.

Jane.

---

Rob walked out to Jane’s hotel room in nothing but a pair of beige slacks, an unbuttoned white shirt, and a key card he held limply in his right hand. At the door, he stopped for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, before knocking twice.

Nothing.

He knocked again, beating strongly against the door. So much so, the reverberations seemed to shake the walls around him.

Nothing.

The night seemed to be on inside from this end of the peephole. What would be the problem? It was only midnight, and sleeping early had never seemed to be a habit to Jane.

Rob’s eyes fluttered, this closed for a moment, and again a memory of the past began to haunt him.



It was the final week before Jane’s graduation. The two had gone out earlier, contacting a friend to buy their beer, and headed to the school at nearly three in the morning. They had both agreed that Jane’s graduation—the last of the two to finally be free of that place—was cause for a celebration. They had swung around the back of the school, supplies in hand. He had helped Jane up to an awning, and she had hung an arm down, helping him climb up with her.

Together they scaled the school, and walked around the roof; it’s rocky texture accentuated by the scaffolding and ducts of the air conditioning. Atop here, the sky shined so bright; above the streetlights and cars, the skyline was accentuated by the darkness. The lights of the sky, the vast stars…all of it glowed.

They had brought a picnic with him, eating shitty sandwiches and stale chips and looking above. They laid out Rob’s old comforter against the concrete beneath them, and looked up. Talking about everything. The band. The school.

The past. The future.

---

A door with faded red words warned Rob not to enter the staircase to the roof, but he paid it no mind. The door swung open easily; it’s steel tones ringing inside the shaft. Rob felt the cool steel against his bare feet as he ascended upwards. Rising on only a feeling. A gut instinct.

Atop here, the hotel’s roof had the highest vantage point for a few miles. The night air of the city seemed to bleed up here. Rob could look down, and see their van. Their trailer. All that they had. Everything they had worked for, for years. In a car and it’s contents. In four kids, just trying to figure out the world.

Somewhere near the center of the roof, Rob found her.

She lay sprawled out in sleep. Her hair littered the pillow below it. Her body seemed angled in an awkward fashion, not by the discomfort of the concrete below it but in a longing. Like a child, grasping, for something. Anything.

Maybe the night’s events had been a nightmare in Rob’s head. Something to wake up from. Something to forget about. To hide from everyone and everything. But there was a truth he couldn’t deny. In reality or in fantasy, in a dream or in fiction, he had to confront this.

It was as if he were seeing, for the very first time. Out of this entire trip, out of the single, the shows, the sex—everything, he had been doing, was done blindly. Instinctually. Effortlessly. And now, seeing Jane like this, being on this roof, faced with the truth ahead of him…he was opening his eyes to what he really needed to do. To quit denying his true self; his own feeling and emotions. To drop his walls. To take a change. To just tell her.

---

Scene Music: Arcade Fire - We’re All Leaving.

---

Rob moved forward, and sat across from Jane. His gently shook her, hoping she’d stir.

Her eyes opened—slowly, deliberately—and faced his. And before she could respond. Before he could get the chance to opt out. To sit and listen instead of speak. Rob opened his mouth, and slowly began.

“I don’t have the right to ask this of you, but…I haven’t talked to you in a while. Really, actually talked to you. And if you would let me—“

Rob felt a tingle in the back of his throat, and stopped, before starting up again without waiting for his answer.

“I fucked up. I don’t talk to people like I should. I let people walk away from me. I never let anyone know how I feel. And this tour—no, fuck, these past few months…few years…it’s all been on autopilot for me. Like I stopped caring. And on this tour, I acted like I stopped caring about you.”

Rob twisted a strand of hair in front of his face, feeling it’s dry texture. “And that isn’t true. This whole time, I’ve been trying to figure out who I am. Not, like, as a part of this band, or anything…as a part of me. Who I am when no one’s looking. And I realized that who I am—or at least, who I wanted to be—was always with you, Jane.”

Her full name hung in the space between them, but Rob powered through it. “And I didn’t want it to be true, because I was in denial. I didn’t want to ruin what the band was. What we were. I’ve never felt like this about anyone, and I did what I always do. I shut everyone out. And…when I did that…in trying not to fuck things up…I really fucked them up. And I tried to deny myself. Distract myself with the drugs, with the girl at the party, with all the drinking and—and the girl tonight—“

Rob’s voice started to shake. It wasn’t controllable anymore. This sudden admission. Relinquishing everything he had in him. Hot tears filled his face, and for the first time…Rob cried in front of Jane. He lowered his head, pounding it against his closed fist. After a moment, he raised his eyes again, wiping away his moment of weakness.

“You’re gonna think it’s the alcohol talking, but it’s not. It’s me. I’ve hurt you. And not just these past three days, but weeks and months before that. And I can’t believe I’ve let it happen for so long.”

Taking in a deep breath, he clutched his elbows with his hands, almost holding himself. “I was always the one that helped you out when you needed me. But really…it was always the other way around for me. You were always there for me. And I need you again. I need my friend. And I have to tell you…you’re more than that to me now.”

Rob looked up at the stars. He had to say something else. He didn’t want the words to come out of his mouth to be his final sentence. He needed more.

“It’s like that one night on the roof. Before your graduation, isn’t it?” He said, scratching his head. He looked back down to her. “I miss that night. I miss who we used to be.”

With that final sentence, Rob was drained. He looked off, staring into whatever void was in front of him, and waited.