Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“That’s also a reason I’m here. I wanted to apologize. I should’ve at least come to say hello. Especially after we hung out in Detroit. That was fun.”
“Well, I know you’ve been busy. The tour has been nonstop. And then there’s your extracurricular activities.”
“Do I need to clarify again that I don’t always partake in the groupies?”
She shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t blame you if you do. Not sure I would be any different in your shoes.”
“The truth is, this lifestyle gets pretty old sometimes. My bandmates may not share that opinion, but most nights I’d rather be eating a burger alone in a McDonald’s that’s about to close than fucking some groupie who’s only interested in me because of my money and fame. That’s like my dream—to just sit alone in McDonald’s and not be bothered.”
She chuckled. “I find that hard to believe, but okay…”
“Why? Anything that comes easy gets old. It’s the chase that’s exhilarating. You know what’s really exhilarating? Wanting something you can’t have. That’s exhilarating.”
“There’s not much you can’t have, Tristan Daltrey.”
“Not true.”
“Name one thing,” Emily challenged.
You. Licking a line over that little gap between your teeth.
“A normal life,” I opted to say.
“You could have that. You could quit tomorrow. Get a job at a local hardware store somewhere in Kansas. Eat your burger alone at the nearest McDonald’s at closing time.”
“When you’ve invested so much of your life in trying to achieve something, once you finally get it, it’s very hard to throw it away, even if you occasionally wish you could. I also feel like I owe it to my bandmates not to flake on them. But some days, it’s definitely tempting to walk away.” I sighed. “Anyway, I don’t feel like walking away so much when I’m talking to you. You’re the most normal person I’ve come across in a while.”
“Mundane, you mean?”
“Far from it.”
“Well, I don’t like hamburgers, so I wouldn’t be able to join you in that depressing McDonald’s that’s about to close.”
I laughed. “You make me smile, Emily, from the moment I met you. You’re real.” I lowered my voice. “And you’re one of the few people who knows what’s going on with me lately. You know…with my voice. So it feels good to be around someone I can be honest with. That’s all.”
“How is your voice?” she whispered.
“I wanted to ask what you thought after tonight’s show. Did you notice it getting better or worse?”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“I know. But you have ears.” Cute ones that stick out when you wear your hair back in a ponytail.
“You want the truth, I assume.”
Feeling a knot in my stomach, I nodded. “Yes, please.”
“You were sounding better to me after Detroit. But tonight you sounded a little worse again.”
That felt like a gut punch, even if I knew it was true. Fuck. If she noticed, how many other people did, too? I nodded. “That’s what I was worried about.”
“It hurts me to have to admit that to you.”
“Don’t be hurt. It’s good for me to know these things. I appreciate your honesty, Emily. More than you know.”
“Are you going to see a doctor soon or…”
“I have an appointment when the tour stops in L.A. No one knows, though.”
“No one else has said anything to you?”
“No. Which is really fucking weird, if you ask me.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”
“It’s not the end of the world.”
“Yeah. But it’s scary, I’m sure.”
I stared into her green eyes for a moment, reluctant to leave even if the stares from the people up front told me I’d overstayed my welcome. “Are you sure you don’t want to grab a bite to eat?” I picked up one of her hair scrunchies and began winding it around my hands as I waited for her response. There was something oddly calming about the mindless motion.
“We have even less time now than we did before. Plus, it’s still warm and toasty on this bus, and I’m not moving.”
“You’re no fun,” I teased.
“I’m not that hungry anyway. Layla got chicken fingers earlier, and I had some. I think I’m good for the night.”
“Okay then.” I pouted.
She turned to look out the window, and I admired her beautiful profile. I would’ve given anything to know what she was really thinking.
I kept twisting the scrunchie. “Are you happy, Emily?”
“On the tour, you mean?”
“In general, but sure, yeah, on the tour, too…”
“In general? I’m working on it. On the tour? Actually, yes. It’s been an amazing distraction from reality. I can’t say I’ll be any clearer on what I want to do with my life when it ends, but it’s a good experience. And it will look good on the resume, too.” She yawned. “The one thing I’ve been struggling with is sleep, though.”
“You’re having trouble sleeping on the bus?”
“Yeah. It’s psychological, I think.”