Feeling GoodMature

I woke up, sitting against our bus. I tried to stand up but my joints were stiff. I rested my head back and groaned. The sun was only coming up and there was no one around again. I rubbed my eyes and tried to move again, this time rolling onto my side and getting on my hands and knees. I scrambled to my feet, stumbling a bit. I couldn't remember how I ended up asleep outside the bus and not inside the bus. I considered getting into the bus now and getting into my bunk, but decided against it, I'd only wake the others and that would cause questions, although I'd say they had some questions as to where I was. I wandered around the camp, wishing I had a cigarette, kicking at the dirt ground. I found myself at the stage, I climbed up the steps and stood where the microphone usually was. Birds were singing in the distance and for once the field was perfectly clean, I started to sing to myself slowly, my voice echoing a little. I felt my heart breaking then, my stomach dropping. I closed my eyes and imagined how I looked right now, alone in the middle of an empty stage, the empty stage in the middle of an empty field. It's how I felt everyday of my life. Alone in the middle of everything. I felt like the field, empty. I sat on the edge of the stage and stared ahead. My stomach ached, nothing made me feel better. Leaving all those memories behind was meant to be easy, I had gone through the motions, the five stages of grief, I had done the denial, the refusal to believe that John was gone, I had been angry, blaming everybody else I lashed out, physically and verbally, I started bargaining, begging God (or whatever) to take me and bring him back, I begged my parents to kill me in the hopes it would bring him back to life. Then there was the psychiatrist, the woman with the blonde bob and the crinkles around her eyes, she had long nails that were always painted red, I saw her twice a week. We talked, she prescribed my medication, told me to take baths, meditate, write about my loss, she told me in time I would accept it, everything would be fine. Before I knew it I accepted it. Well I told everyone I had accepted it. But, it was drink. It brought him back, visions and dreams and that feeling. The buzzing 'John' feeling. I had months drinking and drinking and drinking and now, well now it didn't work. Now I needed more and more to feel closer and closer to him. I heard people moving about on the camp and decided to go back to the bus, I nodded to various technicians and roadies as I walked, keeping my head low. I swung open the door of the bus and climbed up, Jack was sitting at the table eating cereal. I didn't say anything as I passed him and climbed into the spare bunk, my bunk was too dark, this one had a little vent that let little strips of light in. I lay on my back staring at the top of the bus. I heard Adam get up, followed by Ben. I listened to the guys share a light hearted conversation, laughing and joking around. I wanted to smile and be a part of their jokes but I couldn't. I let my eyes grow heavy and fell asleep, Ben's voice ringing in my ear, a story about jelly beans, nostrils, I didn't hear the rest.

"Fuck", I cursed as the mirror slipped off the chair.
I tried positioning it back up against it's back while holding on to my tint brush and bowl. My hair was clipped up all over the place and it had taken me 15 minutes to do dye one strip of hair. Usually Adam was around to help but everybody was outside eating. I didn't feel like being around them, especially not Jess, I was worried about how he would feel about last night. I heard the door open at the other end of the bus and sighed in relief.
"Adam!", I called, "I need help".
Someone rushed up the bus, I saw it was Ryan not Adam and suddenly felt self concious.
"Are you ok?", he asked looking worried.
"Yeah I just thought you were Adam", I replied looking away awkwardly, "I just needed help with this".
I pointed at my hair and smiled. He sat down on the seat opposite me and took the mirror without saying anything, he rested it on his lap and looked back at me.
"Is that ok?", he asked smiling.
"Perfect", I blushed.
I began working at my hair, neither of us said anything. I was half way through when I suddenly felt a bit curious.
"Why were you coming into our bus?", I asked Ryan, avoiding his eyes.
"Well before you knew I needed help you came into the bus for something", I said dipping my brush in the bowl.
"Oh right yeah", he said, he shifted a little, "I was just coming to check on you".
I stopped and looked at him raising an eyebrow.
"I just, didn't want you to be alone", he said a little awkwardly.
We sat in silence again and I went back to colouring my hair. I didn't need to ask him why he wanted to check on me and he didn't need to explain anymore. It made me feel good that someone outside of my band cared. I finished my full head and made us coffee. Simultaneously we lit up cigarettes, smiling as we did. I watched him smoke silently, even though I'd seen him everyday for the past 2 months his eyes were still amazing to me. They were deep and thoughtful and beautiful. I remembered the morning after the awards party and how he had looked at me in the hotel hallway.
"What happened at the awards after party?", I asked quietly.
He looked at me, his eyes seemed to flicker with nerves. Then I felt nervous. He took a drag from his cigarette, he slowly exhaled, the smiled a little.
"It was Iain, you know from...".
"Oh thank god", I sighed, he looked shocked, "I mean, I thought it was something totally different! So at least I know it wasn't eh, what I...anyway what happened?".
"Oh", he looked slightly disappointed, "well he was just hitting on you, and I saved you. We just pretended we were a, eh, couple...We didn't do anything...coupley".
"Ugh Iain is such a jerk", I said rolling my eyes, "thank's for saving me, he would've bothered me all night otherwise".
Ryan gave a little smile, then stood up. He nodded back towards the door.
"I better get back out, you don't need anymore help do you?".
"No thanks though", I smiled, I watched him walk down the bus, "Oh Ryan!".
He looked back at me.
"Let me know if I can ever return the favour", I said smiling, "if you ever need saving".

I practically bounced down the steps from the stage that night after our show, I hadn't even felt the need to drink that much beforehand. Chatting to Ryan had lifted my spirits and we had performed amazingly. I genuinely laughed as I walked with Adam, reinacting the gig. I saw Janey in the distance walking towards us, I smiled and waved. She didn't react, just kept walking towards me, almost marching. I frowned, this wasn't Janey's usual bubbly personality, as she got closer I saw her face. Pure anger. I stood still and took a breath, Adam stopped and looked at me, then to her, then back to me preparing myself for some kind of physical pain. She walked straight up to me and pointed her finger at my chest. Adam readied himself to intervene.
"Keep the fuck away from my band", Janey said dangerously, "they are not your fuck buddies".
She turned away and walked off quickly. I couldn't respond, I wanted to cry, I wanted to lie down on the ground and cry.

The End

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