Folie à Deux

"Remeber that part where we're only supposed to have one small suitcase each? This is why," grumbled Dylan, panting as he hauled Hadley's third and last monster of a suitcase off the conveyor belt.



"Packing light just never seems to happen," she said, unconcerned.



"Yeah, well, me carrying all these out to the bus is never going to happen," Dylan snapped back.



"Come on, just suck it up," Hadley said impatiently.



"Are we really gonna do the diva thing again?"

"Here, Hadley, you can take two and I'll get the other one," said Zoe, bouncing on the balls of her feet in eagerness to get to the hotel. With that settled, we headed outside.



Us not being rockstars just yet, we had to take the shuttle bus from the airport to the nearby Hilton. Our gear, instruments and all that, had been shipped and were supposed to be awaiting us.



"We have a reservation under Talbot?" Zoe said to the receptionist, giving our last name.



"303. The other members of your party are in rooms 304 through 311. They asked me to remind you that you'll be meeting in the foyer at six for dinner."



"Dude, I'm so excited," said Zoe as we made our way over to the elevator. "Fucking Fall Out Boy."

"Remember, we said no fangirling?" said Dylan, and even though he was behind me I could tell he was rolling his eyes.



Personally, I didn't really listen to the other bands we would be touring with, so I wasn't particularly excited to meet them. Zoe made me give all their CDs a listen when we got the tour spot; I wasn't a huge fan, but then, I wasn't a huge fan of the music my own band made.



As we exited the elevator and turned the corner of the hallway, Zoe burst out laughing. I couldn't help but giggle too.



A tall guy in a purple hoodie was doing ballet-style leaps down the hall, heading away from us. Three others were following him with their own interpretive dance moves, while a girl trailed behind, laughing, with a video camera in hand.



"Nice first impressions," called out Zoe, smiling broadly. She caught Purple Hoodie mid-leap, and he stumbled and turned. "Hi, I'm Zoe," she said. Purple Hoodie strode over, grabbed her hand, and kissed it with a smirk. Zoe giggled. Dylan elbowed me.



"Gabe," said Purple Hoodie. "Charmed, I'm sure. You must be The Crushes. This is Nate, Alex, Ryland, and Victoria, and we make up Cobra Starship."

"I'm Zoe, and this is Dylan, Hadley, and my sister Claire."



"How was your flight?" asked Victoria.



"Sorry, much as I'd love to stay and chat, I need a shower," Hadley said abruptly, scooting past them to open our own door.



"Hads, don't be rude," hissed Dylan under his breath.



"Whatever. I smell like airplane. You can stay and play if you want, don't let me stop you."

"Do I ever?"


Hadley rolled her eyes and disappeared into our room.



"Sorry for her, she's absolutely amazing when you get to know her but she's like wicked insecure so she gets bitchy around strangers," explained Zoe quickly, as she had on so many occasions. "Our flight was great. So where's everyone else? I can't wait to meet them."

"I think most of the Fall Out Boy guys are napping, but the rest of them, who knows. You'll meet them at dinner though," volunteered either Alex or Nate, I didn't remember which.



"Speaking of dinner, I think Hadley had the right idea, it's already five and I need to shower too. But see you then," said Victoria.



The eight of us went into our respective rooms. Hadley was already in the shower.

“Claire, do you mind going next door and asking if they have extra towels?” asked Zoe.

I minded a little. That would require knocking on a stranger’s door and actually talking to said stranger.

“Sure, no problem.”

It probably sounds stupid, but I could actually feel my heart racing as I knocked on the door of room 304. Have I mentioned how much I loathe talking to people who are not Zoe, Hadley, or Dylan?

“Bren, can you get that?” I heard from inside the room.

“Nope, I’m getting in the shower, it’s all yours,” another voice responded. And then the door swung open and I stopped breathing completely.

He was beautiful. It was the eyes that got me first, wide and curious under a mop of wet, touseled hair. It took a full second to realize that all he was wearing was a towel. My mind went absolutely blank.

“Oh, hey, sorry, I thought you were Pete coming to borrow eyeliner again. Um. I’m Ryan,” he said shyly.

“Claire. I. Uh. Towels,” I mumbled.

“Sorry?”

“Uh. Towels. I was wondering if you had any extra towels.”

He glanced down at the towel that was hanging loosely at his hips, then looked back up at me with a smile. “I don’t think I can spare this one, but I’ll go check the bathroom. One second.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, where I could hear the shower running. I took a few deep breaths.

“Here you go. It’s only me and Bren in this room, so we’ve got a couple,” Ryan said, reappearing with two towels hung over his arm.

“Thanks,” I near-whispered.

“No problem. So, uh, I’ll see you at dinner?”

I could only manage a nod.

“I like your shirt, by the way,” was the last thing I heard as he closed the door behind me.

Safely out of sight, I looked down and nearly groaned out loud. I was wearing my white “Reading is Sexy” t-shirt.

I felt like I had been hit on the head as I slid the key-card and reentered my own room. My cheeks were still hot as I shoved the towels at Zoe and sat down limply on the bed.

Three years ago, that wouldn’t have been a problem for me. Three years ago I would have made some witty remark and giggled and flirted. Three years ago I would never have turned bright red and forgotten how to speak.

I used to be so much more like Zoe; at ease in any situation, bright and fun, the life of the party. When my parents died that all stopped. I never cried, not once, not even at the funeral. I hibernated for a while, refused to go to school, just stayed in my room drawing and writing. But even after I went back to school it was as if I had left the old Claire behind. I felt like I was sleepwalking. I couldn’t bring myself to hang out with my old friends. I went weeks at a time without speaking to anyone but Zoe, Hadley, and Dylan. I didn’t feel depressed exactly. I just didn’t feel alive. And now, three years have gone by, and I still feel like I’m not all here.

“What’s wrong, hon?” asked Dylan, rummaging through his suitcase.

“Nothing,” I said softly.

“Sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Which pants?”

“The purple ones. Yeah, it’s nothing.”

“Thanks. What are you wearing? That shirt is just not acceptable. Wear the American Apparel black v-neck.”

“Okay.”

“And can I put some eyeliner on you? You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, you really should play them up more.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Before we go down we need to take a picture for our friendsorenemies tour journal,” said Zoe. “Fuck, I think my tongue stud’s infected again.”

“Cute, hon. Can you come help me with my extensions?’ called Hadley from the bathroom.

And in the middle of them, I sat like the eye of a hurricane, replaying the stutter in my voice as I asked Ryan if he had any towels. I’m an idiot.