Black Rose Dying

“Adrienne, c’mon! You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

I turned my head to acknowledge my best friend and current crush’s urging to hurry up.

We were leaving for tour today, even though we all just got home from touring with Silverstein and Norma Jean a few days ago.

I’m not complaining; the busy tour schedule is giving my boys a chance to get bigger and more popular by the day. And after all, I volunteered to be their merchgirl.

I gazed out to the dry, barren hills behind my house. The rich, red baked clay and ancient stones that composed the hills were strangely captivating to me. They were so serene, so content with making up the mildly intimidating Arizona landscape. The ever blue sky was clear, save for a few lonely clouds drifting lazily along.

Jared honked our trusty van’s horn, as he became impatient with my sentimentality towards our beloved home state.

I grabbed my suitcases and walked over to the van, where Eric was eager to help my bags get into the backseat.

Everyone in Blessthefall had patience issues, except for Beau and Matt. They were generally the “go with the flow” guys.

“Ready to get dirrrtaayy, Adri?” Eric purred.

I squeaked a laugh out of my abdomen and replied, “ Si, bonito. Muy.”

Eric shot me an odd look; he never took Spanish in High School.

“I said, ‘Yes, handsome. Very.’”

“Well, hell,” Eric blushed. “…Handsome, eh?”

“Don’t play that card with me, Eric Anthony. You know you’re attractive. Besides, we have to get our butts in the van before Jared kills us.”

Eric and I giggled as we jumped into the van.

“Geez, Adrienne, way to give Eric an ego boost,” Matt taunted.

“You’re just jealous because she hasn’t called you handsome!” Eric gloated, earning a slightly malicious glare from Jared and Beau…and well, everyone in the band.

After an awkward silence, I cleared my throat. “So where are we headed to, boys?”

“Atlanta, Georgia. Hope you enjoy frizzy hair,” Mike spat.

“At least I don’t fake bake,” I muttered loud enough for everyone to hear.

The whole van erupted in a roar of laughter, an obvious sign that any previous tension had been erased.

Eric and Matt gave me high fives to signify their approval of my Mike bashing.

The car ride went along smoothly after that. There were minimal farts, lots of singing along to ‘80s hair metal and the discussing of hair products, on which Beau is an expert.

We pulled up to a decent looking hotel and ventured inside to find out room prices.

We wanted to be cautious with our frivolities this time around. No more “diva bitchassness” as Jared so affectionately quoted Sean Combs. This meant that we’d have to squeeze seven full grown adults into one room.

We went ahead and booked a two bedroom room, with queen size beds, and an extra couch turned pull out bed.

Mike paid the friendly Southern hostess in cash, seeing as how the room was only $90.

Gotta love Georgia.

We hauled our respective luggage up to room 217.

Dougie opened the door to find just what we expected: two queen size beds with a tacky floral design and a water pastel color palette, a small, but tolerable pull out couch and two large sitting chairs.

“DIBS!” All the boys called, running to see who could get on a bed first.

Dougie and I looked at each other and shrugged; looks like we’d be sleeping in the chairs…again.

I closed the hotel room door to keep out as much humidity as could be accomplished.

The scene I found when I turned to face everyone again was absolutely hilarious. Beau and Eric were wrestling with each other on the bed closest to the window, while Mike and Matt were jumping up and down on their bed. Typical boys.

“Adri, do you want to sleep on the futon?” Jared asked, returning my attention to him.

“Jared, you’re the one who drove this whole trip. You should sleep on the futon. I’m just the merchgirl, in case you forgot,” I joked, as I stuck my tongue out at him playfully.

“But you’re OUR merchgirl! You need your beauty rest so you can sell more of our tee shirts!” Beau exclaimed, obviously outraged at my logic.

“I’ll be fine sleeping in the chair, Jared. Really. And if I can’t hack it, I’ll kick you off the couch and steal it from you.” Jared smiled lightly, making his blue eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Thanks. Y’know,” he leaned in close to me, whispering, “you can share the bed with me if you want. I think we can both fit. I promise I won’t poke you in the middle of the night,” he chuckled.

I laughed whole heartedly for a good 30 seconds before I replied to him. “I just might take you up on this offer, Mr. Warth.”

While Jared and I had been talking, Mike went to a liquor store down the street. Apparently, he felt the need to celebrate that night. For what reason, aside from being in Georgia, I have no clue.

But we all, aside from Beau and Dougie, rushed to the small table where Mike had begun to open some rum and coke.

Even though Mike and I were still irritated with each other, he always knew how to fix my favorite drinks; rum and coke being one of them.

Since Eric was just underage, we had a set limit of alcohol he could consume. On the off chance we went out later, we didn’t want him to get caught for drinking underage.

Matt, Mike, Jared, Eric and I raised our glasses while Dougie and Beau raised their water bottles.

“I’d like to propose a toast,” I announced. “In the words of the immortal Brandon Boyd: ‘Tonight we drink to youth, and holding fast to truth!’”

“To youth and truth!” The boys chorused around me.

After a few drinks had been polished off, I glanced at the clock in our room. The Roman numeral face glared back at me, reading 3:15 A.M.

Putting myself in Mother Hen mode, I told the boys to put their pyjamas on so they could go to sleep relatively soon after that.

We took turns using the bathroom to change and prepare for bed.

All the boys came out in their boxers or various lounge pants, which wasn’t anything new to me at that point.

Finally, after all of them had their turn of changing, I went into the bathroom to throw on my brother’s Dragon Ball Z shirt that was three sizes too big for me, and my black A Skylit Drive track (Booty shorts, Eric called them) shorts. I brushed my teeth with little to no trace of alcohol induced difficulty.

Apparently, I took longer than I thought; when I came out, everyone was asleep…except for Jared.

All of the lamps had been turned off, and Matt had already begun snoring. The only source of light was from Jared’s phone, on which he was most likely Twittering on.

“You should be asleep,” I whisper-scolded.

“I could say the same for you, madame,” Jared smiled cheekily.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “I’m not supposed to sleep. I’m Super Woman, remember?”

“No, I seem to have forgotten. So that means either I’m your kryptonite, or Mike fixed you too strong of a drink tonight. I really think you should sleep with me tonight.”

My eyes widened in mock horror, my jaw hung slightly slack.

After seeing my reaction, Jared quickly reworded his statement.” N-n-not like that! I, I meant you should sleep on the futon.” Poor kid. His cheeks were radiating a deep red from his embarrassment.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll take your offer,” I moaned as I crawled onto the futon with Jared.

“But I’m not ti-“ I attempted to stifle a yawn, which didn’t work.

“Tired?” Jared prodded.

“Yes, exactly that. Now are you going to sleep or not?”

“I’ll sleep when you sleep.” He seemed firm in his determination.

“Well then, get ready to enter Neverland in about five minutes.” I yawned again, causing him to yawn back at me.

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going,” Jared said as he adjusted the sheets that were around him, making a small, nest-type structure around his feet with the scratchy cotton material.

“What’s with the bird nest?”

“You know my feet get cold in easily, even in Georgia,” Jared yawned again.

“Feel free to put your feet against me when you get cold. You know I’m like a frickin’ furnace,”
I giggled, causing Jared to laugh a tired laugh.

“Okay, Adrienne. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, Jer-bear. You, too.”

I was just on the brink of sleep moments later, when I felt Jared’s giant feet rest themselves on the backs of my calves, our body heat transferring the moment he laid them there.

I pretended I was asleep for the next ten minutes.

I noticed Jared had subtly started to curl his thin, lanky body around mine. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath he took, and his bony knees fitting snugly into the crooks of mine.

Right before he fell asleep, he reached over and pushed my dark brown hair out of my eyes.
“Goodnight, lovely,” he whispered.

And then he drifted into a restless sleep.