Paint My Skies Black, I Never Wanna See The Sun Again

“Yeah, there’s a party tonight in our bus.”

“The Cobra bus?” Sunday asked over the crackly reception of the phone.

“Yup,” VickyT replied, “It’s gonna be a helluva time. I wish you could come though.”

“Me too.”

Sunday and VickyT had met in Vegas while she was out there for the guys’ Kimmel showing and the two had really hit it off - from slumber parties to shopping.

Now Sunday was at home – well, hers and Alex’s home. They moved in a few weeks after Vegas and now he was on the Believers Never Die tour with Fall Out Boy, Cobra Starship, Hey Monday, and Metro Station.

They constantly called each other and it was now the last week of the tour and the parties were getting rowdier by the day.

“Well, I gotta go before Gabe finishes all the vodka.”

“Tell Alex to call me, kay?”

“Sure,” Victoria hung up as she walked back to the bus.

Meanwhile, in the bus, Alex wasn’t feeling well.

“Ri, I think I’m gonna head back to the bus and sleep alright?” Alex retired to his bunk but before doing so, stripped down to his boxers leaving his plaid red shirt, grey skinnys, and Nikes on the floor next to his bunk. He was fast asleep in less than a minute.

Victoria re-entered the bus and the party was full in swing. It smelled of alcohol and sweat. It was great. She kept her eyes open for Alex so she could pass along the message. On the other side of the bus, Jack had drowned his sixth consecutive shot and was completely off the wire, drowning in the amount of alcohol in his bloodstream.

“Hey hottie,”he slurred to the drunk chick beside him, “wanna come back to my bus?”

In response, she jumped on him and bit his lip with Jack leading the two of them off the bus. VickyT stopped at the counter full of drinks and spotted Rian, “Hey Rian. Do you know where Alex is?”

“Yeah, he went back to our bus, but hey – Zack found his phone. Are you headed there?

“I can take it to him; no prob.”

“Thanks.”

Eager to get out of the crowded space and get some fresh, non-polluted air, Victoria took the phone and began walking to the All Time Low bus.

At the same time, Jack and his bleached blonde friend with a tramp stamp of a semi-colon and right bracket had snuck onto the bus, undetected by the sleeping lead singer. In Jack’s bunk, the two were fooling around but it wasn’t too long before Jack passed out drunk.

The girl sat up in confusion, not sure what to do, when VickyT knocked in the bus door.

Inside, she didn’t want to wake Jack up – it didn’t seem like he would be able to anyway – and was completely oblivious to the fact that Alex was even in there, so she took it upon herself to answer the door.

Picking up Alex’s shirt off the floor in a poor attempt at decency, she found herself face-to-face with a very shocked and disturbed key-tar player.

“Erm, hi. What are you doing here?” She didn’t mean to sound rude, but she was caught completely off guard.

Unable to hide her excitement, the dangbang fan girl replied, “I just slept with one of the guys of ATL!” while subconsciously playing with the hem of her cover up – Alex’s shirt.

Victoria recognized it and pieced together the story.

Oh no! Sunday’s gonna be crushed! How could Alex do this to her!? What an asshole! I’m so not talking to him. I’m calling her first thing tomorrow morning.

“Uh, well, never mind then. Can you leave this on the counter or on one of the bunks?”

“Sure.”

Uncomfortable with the current situation she’d just tumbled upon, Victoria left the girl on the bus, and went back to her own even though she was the farthest thing away from the party mood.

...

The next morning, Alex woke up feeling better; Jack woke up with a massive hangover and no memory of the night before; and VickyT woke up with the burden of her knowledge and picked up her phone knowing full well what she had to do.

She started the conversation off normally before recounting the previous night’s events to Sunday.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Sunday’s voice broke on the last word.

She had had this happen to her already, but not like this. Last time, Alex almost did it; this time, he did. Last time, Alex didn’t know about her feelings; this time, he did. Last time, she didn’t love him.

Oh yes; this time was definitely worse.

“I’m so sorry,” VickyT said genuinely. She didn’t want to see Sunday get hurt.

After their conversation, Sunny considered calling Alex and talking to him, maybe clear things up. But no, even if he did do it, he’d lie. She had no reason not to trust Victoria.

They were officially done.

Sunday called Lynne and told her the whole story.

“I don’t believe it. That boy loves you. Maybe there’s some sort of misunderstanding,” Lynne said, trying to think positively.

“Like what? All their clothes accidentally fell off and when they bent down to pick them up, his penis accidentally went into her...thing!?” she asked bitterly.

“Okay, no need to be so graphic.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, what about this: let’s go out for lunch, some retail therapy, some drinks, and just have some girl time?”

“Okay.”

...

At the club, the girl got by the bartender checking their Ids. Jack would have been proud. Sunday felt a twinge of pain as she thought about her other biffle who also happened to be Alex’s.

That cheating ass, She thought putting as much venom into the last word, even if the idea of his name shot a lance though her heart.

With newfound thoughts of bitterness and angst, she threw back her drink and finished the tall glass in two minutes flat.

“Whoa. Slow down there girl. So it looks like we’ll be taking the taxi tonight?”

“Not if we find someone to be home with.” Sunday’s words already seemed to slur. She was never good at handling her alcohol.

Before Lynne could stop her friend, she was already at the bar, asking for the next deadly concoction, and again off on the prowl for what she was most likely looking for – a rebound.

A quick rebound to raise her self-esteem.

Sunday hiked her jewel-green, mid-thigh dress up a little higher as she left Lynne trailing behind her on a mission to forget the boy who stole her heart, lit it on fire with passion, and put out that fire using the bottom of his pop-punk-sensation-feet.

She knocked back another shot as a guy came into view. Tall, muscular – but not too muscular, she sat at the counter and tossed a glance his way conveying her interest, and looking away showing that he’s have to work for it.

Understanding all of her signals, the stranger walked to the bar and sat next to her.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked her in a husky but soft voice – one that didn’t sound like it was used regularly to belt out songs; it was exactly what she needed.

Leaning her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her arm, she answered, “Can you?”

Smiling, “Two drinks please,” he ordered the bartender.

“So what’s your name?” Mr. Stranger asked.

“Sunday; and what about you?”

“James.”

After some small talk and a few more drinks, Sunday got tired of the light banter and flirting. Taking matters into her own hands, she let the alcohol speak.

“Okay, I don’t want to waste my time anymore. I came here for one reason – do you want me or not?” she asked, her voice subconsciously mimicking the husky and sultry tone of his.

He slowly placed a large and capable hand on her upper thigh and putting his lips to her ear, he whispered, “I thought you’d never ask.”

...

Sunday was hungover - that much was obvious. She had never been much of a heavy drinker, but she'd been drunk enough once to know what a hangover felt like. She had promised herself then to never drink that much again, and reaffirmed that promise now.

Someone next to her rolled over and rustled the sheets.

Oh. My. Word. The previous night's events all came screaming back to her. The drinking; the club; the guy. Oh, what was his name; James.

He moved again and due to the previous night's events, they were not clothed. His little buddy was, well, it in fact was buddying up to her and shed waned nothing more than to kick it away; far away.

Slowly, as not to disturb him, Sunday inched away and grabbed her phone.

3 missed calls: One from Victoria, one from Jack, and the last was from Lynne.

There were also seven new text messages. One from Victoria, checking up on her. Another was from Jack, saying ''What's up?'' either unaware that Alex was sneaking around behind her back, or covering up for his best friend's faults and blatantly lying to her face. Two were Twitter updates, and the last three were from Lynne worriedly asking about her whereabouts.

Sunday put her hand to her throbbing forehead and sighed. This has got to be the stupidest thing she'd ever done. After a long, remorseful look at the sleeping figure next to her, she gathered her belongings, got dressed wishing she could take a shower because she felt so dirty, and escaped into the day.

With no idea where she was, Sunday walked down the block searching for any place that served coffee. In a futile attempt to shield her eyes from the unforgiving sunlight, she donned her sunglasses as she ducked into an artificially-lit cafe. Even the fake lights bugged her out.

“Coffee; black, please,” she asked the waitress after sinking into one of the quaint and worn seats, “oh, and an Advil.”

Taking into consideration her wrinkled clothes, tangled hair, husky voice, and strong order, the waitress nodded comprehending her situation. Waiting patiently for her coffee, Sunday dialled Lynne’s number.

Three rings and her startled voice answered, “Oh God, where are you? Where’d you go last night?”

It was then that Sunny divulged the whole ghastly story – minus a few graphic details that would befit another story; one that was not meant for pity.

And that was exactly what she received. She best friend sighed, “Do you need me to pick you up?”

“Yes please,” she answered in a small voice.

“Stay put and don’t go gallivanting off with another stranger. I’ll be there in two shakes and a stir.”

After hanging up, Sunday got her order and flipped her phone back and forth in her hands, pondering. She let her fingers guide her as she called the next person.

“Jack,” she breathed when he answered.

“Sunny?” had it been two days ago, he wouldn’t have even had to think twice as to whether or not it was her; but there was an edge to her voice, and he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. He had an ominous feeling it would be the latter.

Ever since Sunday received the news from Victoria, she had changed drastically. No solid foods had entered her mouth since that call; she hadn’t been sleeping well; her heart was constantly aching; pining.

Sunday had aged. In less than 48 hours, she had both stopped, and fast-forwarded in a desperate attempt to stop processing the situation she had landed herself in.

“Jack, have you been telling me the truth?”

“Huh? What do you mean? Of course I have.”

“Are you sure?” she decided she needed to be more direct with her questions, “Has Alex been cheating on me?”

“What!? No Sunny! All that boy does is talk about you. Even when we do meet and greets and the girls are all over him, he sneaks you into the conversation – making sure not to reveal your name and address, hah – and they get pissed. Sometimes they assume that I have a girlfriend, and don’t even bother tryin’a hit on me – Talk to him about that; it’s ruining my game.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle softly as Jack continued with his rant, “Every other breath that he utters is you. Why would you even think such a thing?”

Sunday ignored the question that latched onto his last sentence.

“What did you guys do the night before last night?”

On the other side of the line, Jack didn’t seem to notice the tone of her questions as he scratched his head, “Uh, you see, I don’t remember much about that night...”

“Jack...”

“No, see, I was so hammered. It’s still a little fuzzy to me – even now.”

“I need you to remember.”

The urgency in her voice made Jack want to remember.

“Ah, well, I was with this girl. Alex told Rian that he wasn’t feeling too well, so he left the party way early – even before it got any good. Then I got my mojo, took her back to our bus – Hah, Alex must’a heard everything. Then I pretty much passed out. That’s all I can remember.

Oh, but the girl did say that Victoria came by to drop Alex’s phone off and I woke up to her wearing my shirt that Alex had borrowed.”

Sunday almost dropped her phone into her coffee.

“Uh, I gotta go Jack. Thanks,” she said hurriedly.

“Wait, what about Alex?”

“Tell Alex that I love him.”

“Oh, okay.”

Sunday downed the Advil and finished off her coffee just as she saw Lynne’s car pull into the parking lot. She grabbed her stuff, left the money and a generous tip on the table and headed out the door.

“Wow, you look like shit – Oh, Sunday, what happened?” Lynne asked, processing the alarmed look on her face.

Pale as a sheet and guilt coursing through her veins she said, “He didn’t do it.”

“Who didn’t what?”

“Alex. Alex didn’t cheat on me.”

“Well, isn’t that good then”

“Don’t you get it Lynne? Now it’s me. I cheated on him.”

“Oh no.”

“I need to go. Drive,” she said in monotone.

While they were moving, she thought it over.

“Well, what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. I can’t do this,” she half-whispered, her brain going into hyper drive, “I can’t face him. He’s coming home in three days.”

Lynne didn’t answer. She knew that Sunday wasn’t looking for a response. She was just talking out loud – sorting out her thoughts.

“I have to leave the house.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know. With you? Can I stay with you?”

“I’m leaving in two days. College.”

“Oh yeah,” silence filled the car as she thought some more, “I’ll come with you,” Sunday decided.

“How?”

“You’re staying in a house off campus right? And still looking for a roommate?”

“Even if you’re not going to college?”

“I’ll even pay rent.”

“But, Alex – ”

“I can’t. I love him too much.”

“Fine.”

As soon as Sunday got home, she recruited Lynne and the two started packing. Pretty soon, boxes upon boxes were lined up on her lawn. Sunday had some things still in the house to last her the next two days until they left, or in case she ever decided to come back – if she would ever be allowed back.

I’ll FedEx them to the house tomorrow.”

While the girls were lugging the boxes out, the elderly couple next door tutted to themselves. They had seen Lynne help Sunny move in with Alex a few weeks ago, and could see them moving her out. It was such a shame to see young couples so obviously in love not pull through. Was there ever going to be hope for love?

...

The days passed slowly and with little effort on Sunny’s part. Soon it was moving day. She hadn’t been sleeping in their bed – she felt unworthy. Instead she slept on the couch. She also felt dirty, and no amount of showers could clean her conscience of what she’d done. Sunday walked though the half-empty house placing kisses on random objects; hoping to leave a bit of her presence behind before Lynne came by to pick her up.

And then it was truly goodbye.

...

“You’re so...happy,” Jack commented, “It’s weird.”

“Don’t be such a pooper, Jack,” Alex said with a silly grin on his face, “As sad as I am that this tour is over, I’m just really excited to go home to Sunny.”

“Hm, well, you better talk to her soon. She seemed kinda off the last time I spoke with her.”

“I will, don’t worry. I wanna surprise her, though. She knows I’m coming home; she just doesn’t know the specifics, like when.”

“Kay. Let’s hit the road.”

...

Three hours on the road had begun to take a toll on Alex’s impatience. Every little thing was beginning to irritate him – Zack periodically fiddling with his nose ring; Rian tapping along to the drum line to whatever was blasting though his earphones (guess it’s true what they say about drummers); and Jack constantly playing with his nipples.

Oh sure, it was funny when he joked about it in interviews, but he did it more than it was probably healthy to.

Alex just couldn’t wait to get back.

In the meantime, Sunday was on the plane, headed to the South Campus of the University of South Carolina. Lynne sat beside her, asleep, as she watched the autumn colours of below from her window.

She’d always liked the fall – the cool weather, the leaves changing colour, and the anticipation awaiting the holidays. There was this intangible shift in the air, in people’s behaviours that always seemed to throw her off though. They spent less and less time at the beach, opting for their UGGS or Birkenstocks in exchange for their flip-flops; the sun even set a few minutes earlier with each passing day.

After every milestone that occurred, like seeing her breath or jumping in a pile of newly raked leaves, Sunday would say goodbye to a little bit of summer – up until it was truly gone.

This time, she was not only saying goodbye to summer, but also to Alex; the life she chose to leave behind.

Lynne stirred and saw Sunday staring out the window, lost in thought. She knew her best friend needed this, but she couldn’t bear to think of Alex’s reaction when he comes back to an empty house.

She had become good friends with the band, but deep down inside, she was still a fan. Had you told her a few months ago that she’d soon be aiding in breaking Alex Gaskarth’s heart, she’d have laughed, and then scolded you for such a thought. Lynne had a feeling that this event would be haunting her conscience for while.