Days Later...
They were flying into Berlin.
Outside the windows of the dimmed airplane, the great expanse of the Atlantic Ocean shone slightly as if a brilliant flare of light, as the first sun rays of the next day began to peer out over the horizon.
The past several days had been a blur. First, travel to St. Louis, then a final US show. Then, packing the instruments into crates and a drive immediately to the airport. Next, first flight into Atlanta. Several hours of layover in Atlanta, before a nonstop flight.
After the first several hours, all sense of time began to stop. The trip seemed to stretch far into the night, into the early hours of the morning, and once again back into darkness as America faded far behind them. There had been some interesting moments, and a few fans who had caught up to them and gotten their fair share of autographs, but it had mostly been a silent acceptance of the fatigue that had long since set in.
The fame and fortune of the life of the musician was certainly appealing, but the bitter reality of playing songs constantly, sleeping terribly, and the sheer amount of traveling was one of the least appealing parts of the job.
Still, Rob found some solace in it. There was something interesting to him about flights. Sure, it came with caveats, but overall, being able to travel hundreds of miles in an hour, far above the earth, never lost it’s novelty with him. He enjoyed takeoffs and landings, and the experience of it all. On the flight to Atlanta, he had been placed next to a fan, and was able to tell the kid a bit about the experience, the life, and some other things as well about life. It was always interesting meeting people that seemed so genuinely interested in not only the music, but themselves as well. He hoped that novelty would never be lost on him.
Beyond the unhealthy levels of caffeine surging throughout his system, Rob was able to enjoy looking out this window, in this moment, seeing the peacefulness of all of the expanse man seemed to leave well enough alone.
Moments before landing and Rob was still unsure of the future. Ahead, lay a more interesting tour. All the benefits of playing smaller, intimate shows with the added amenity of riding in a bus instead of driving the old van. The comfort was going to be much larger than it used to be.
But ever growing were the fears of what else would come. The strain of sharing a tour with Vicarious constantly. The new terms and conditions reached with Jane. The worrisome thoughts of her with another. The odd realization that he was almost expected to be with others as well. And the growing thoughts he had of acting on those feelings soon, rather than later.
Next to him, he felt Jane’s body pressed up against him in sleep. She seemed to much more at peace now, especially since what had been decided between the two of them. And if he was being honest, he was so much more at peace as well. It had cleared his head of the constant shame he had been carrying around, as well as the worry that he would use lose her.
Because Rob loved her. He wasn’t sure of when he began to love her, but he knew it was true.
Thoughts of Hayden came with that sort of thinking. The last time he had truly admitted his feelings, he had been scarred for several years. Telling Jane how he really felt, especially now with the casual agreement, felt like a recipe for disaster. He would tell her, of course. But at the right time. In the right place.
So, in a sense, everything had changed, but nothing truly had. Here they were on another tour, bracing for the experiences ahead, feeling sure of themselves but nervous for the road ahead, and having each other.
Full circle.
—
After landing and baggage claim, Harold led the exhausted band members (plus Lyla and Aaron, and their driver, a nice guy named Grant) over to the more industrial side of the airport, past the car lots and drop off, and over to a back corner filled with various trucks and busses. In front of one in particular, he stopped.
“Welcome home, guys,” he said politely.
In front of them was a truly massive black bus. Attached to the back end, a trailer hung, hopefully loaded with all the equipment they had shipped back in St. Louis. All along the sides, the storage doors were open, and airport employees were busy loading the last of their things inside.
“You’ll be in this thing for pretty much the whole tour,” Harold continued. “Well, not for the UK. The whole driving-on-the-wrong-side throws that off, so you’ll probably be back in a rental van for that. I’m still on logistics.”
Logistics. That’s what Harold was the master of. And it was why he was here now. Something about the need to talk to a venue owner in Berlin, or something. It seemed a waste of money, but so far, Harold was keeping all of them on what was basically carte blanche, so Rob didn’t worry so much about it. He never was good with money.
“I’m off to my meetings,” Harold said, turning as quick as he could. “I’ll see you in Britain for the end of the tour.”
And with that, just as quick as Harold had entered their lives in physical form, so he left.
Rob didn’t hesitate to step forward, going into the bus immediately. And in there, it was amazing.
A thick carpet lined the floors, and wood panels made up the walls and ceiling. Past the driver’s section, a nice living area sat with black leather couches and a full granite kitchenette just past it. A television hung from one of the walls, and windows made up a good chunk of the rest. Rob continued inside.
Past a very nice bathroom were the first round of bunks; two on each side, with a curtain to seal themselves off from the outside world. Each looked nice enough.
Moving farther back, four more bunks were in here, past a few closet spaces and another curtain. These seemed to be a bit bigger than the others, and Rob didn’t hesitate to slip his travel bag onto the one on the bottom-left; a clear indication that this one was his.
Rob quickly watched as Sam and Austin slipped in and argued immediately over who would get what, so he eased past and made his way to the front, opening the fridge.
To his surprise, it was stocked full of booze. He pulled out a decent looking ale and opened it, sitting down on the couch and thinking to himself for a moment.
This may not be so bad, and he had only just looked around—he was sure this bus held many more surprises for him.
Entering next was Grant, who offered Rob a nice smile and pulled a water from the fridge, before sitting next to him.
“Enjoy this moment,” Grant said, his accent coming through. Best to hire a European for the European Tour, Harold had argued. “It’ll be, as you would say, the calm before the storm”
“I’m sure,” Rob said. “You tour with bands a lot?”
“Many American bands,” Grant said simply. “Some small-time, some big. Some nice, some…not so nice. People are different.”
“Shit,” Rob breathed out. “That’s true.”
“We will drive to the venue in a moment,” Grant said, suddenly rising and moving to one of the bunks closest to the front of the bus. “Then, I sleep.”
Rob found this rather odd. Harold had gone to great lengths to explain that the best way to fight the jet lag was going to be staying up until night had fallen. And, seeing as how it was still morning, there was a lot more day to be had.
“Why then?” he asked.
Grant gave a soft smile. “While you work, I sleep. While you sleep, I work.” He set his drink down in his bunk, and slipped to the very front, to assumedly set up his own space for his work. He seemed to be a man of few words, which was not surprising. He probably had been doing this for a very long time.
Rob slipped out of the bus, in an effort to see where Jane had gone to, when he saw a familiar figure across the parking lot. Taking a few steps forward, he could tell who it was:
Zoe.
He walked across the lot, approaching a white bus that seemed to be Vicarious’ new traveling vehicle. The members of the band meandered about without noticing Rob’s approach at first; looking just as dead as he felt.
Andy was the first to notice Rob’s approach, and gave a silent stare to him before slipping into his bus was a bag. Rob shrugged off the feeling it gave him and approached Zoe—covered in a hat and sunglasses, and wearing black from a sleeveless graphic tee down to her boots. She was clearly unhappy, but offered a smile when she noticed Rob. She walked up quietly and stopped in place.
“Hey stranger,” she said. Fancy seeing you here.”
Rob laughed, and the two embraced for a moment.
“Glad to see you again,” Rob admitted, pulling away. “I know shit got weird, but—“
Rob felt a finger press against his lips softly. “Leave it in America, dude. We’re in Europe now. Catch you at the venue?”
Rob looked behind him to see the remaining members of Vicarious had vanished into the bus. He leaned in for a moment. “Me?” he asked.
Zoe nodded. “And Jane. Trent’s a bit frustrated half our band wants to fuck half our supporting band. And Andy just straight up doesn’t like you very much.”
Rob blushed slightly. “Well, when you put it that way…”
“What other way is there to put it?” Zoe asked, before slipping away, getting into the bus. “See you later, Jack.”
Rob watched as the door closed, and laughed a bit to himself. "And we're not your supporting band!" He shouted after her.
It was the first time he didn’t mind being called Jack.
--
Turning back to the bus, Rob grabbed some of the other things he would need and loaded them by his bunk. As he did so, he heard a conversation going on between Sam and Austin on the other side of the curtain:
“It was too fucking weird, dude.”
“What?”
“Like, I’m just standing here naked, and all of a sudden Jane comes in—“
“Bullshit.”
“Why else would I tell you that?”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Did she see your dick or not?”
”Guys?” Rob asked, slipping around the curtain and butting right into their conversation. The two both seemed to jump a foot into the air, but Rob ignored it: “Pick your bunks yet?”
“Y-yeah,” Austin stuttered.
“Cool,” Rob said, turning back away. Just wondering.” As he left, Sam spoke up.
“Hey, Rob?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you hear any of that?”
Rob rolled his eyes. “At this point, Sam,” Rob explained, “I really couldn’t give a fuck.”
Rob slipped back over to the couch and closed his eyes.
He knew he needed to stay awake until after the show tonight, but Jesus was it going to hurt.
He briefly thought of getting up to find Jane, but couldn’t find the energy for it. Still, he really wanted to find her.
Even with all the shit around them, the one thing Rob wanted in this moment was Jane by his side, feeling her warmth and hearing her voice. Talking about anything in the world. Anything, to distract him from this terrible growing anxiety he was feeling.