If Only I Knew How to Hate You

Bailey

I watch his posture straighten a little, like he’s prepared to listen and take everything in. I look away, though, considering what I can tell him. Everything? And put him at risk? I bite my lip and slowly shake my head. I can’t do that to him.

“Do you want to talk?” he asks finally.

I tighten my jaw, preparing to disappoint him once again. Usually, I’m so used to doing things like this but every time, it gets harder with Alex. “Not… no. Not yet, anyways,” I manage. “I… I can’t.”

Slowly his shoulders slump and I close my eyes, feeling a wall go up between us all over again. But I can’t do this to him. This- telling him, what would he do? It’s not like he can do anything. He’d just worry and tell me to go in hiding or something crazy. But no, if he’s to stay safe, then… then he can’t know a thing. Not now, anyways.

Accidentally, I look at him and see his hurt expression. But what can I do? It hurts, seeing him unhappy… Biting my lip, I search for an idea, at least to distract him. “I- guitar, could you… we could… practice?” I manage and cough a little.

“Are you sure? You could rest,” he murmurs, beginning to stand.

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t want to. Please?” I add after a minute. I’m burning all the other bridges, but can’t I at least keep one standing between us?

It takes him a moment, and slowly he moves. Grabbing two acoustic guitars, he plops down and though it takes longer this time, he gathers his enthusiasm again as we fiddle around on the guitar. As usual, he tries to get me to sing with him but lately I’m not feeling it, and it’s not like I can sing goo, so we don’t deal with that.

Washington comes before we know it. I’m better in a day or so, and will be meeting with Sergant Matheson in Oregon, about a week away. It’s Alex’s turn to do most of the driving, and I stay up sometimes to keep him occupied so he doesn’t get road rage as usual- I swear he can’t handle traffic or he becomes a madman.

Anyways, I don’t have much to do when I’m not on merch, so I’ll fiddle with the guitar or usually end up doing chores, if I’m not with some people. It’s not fun, but I can’t live in this sort of pigsty.

With a sigh, I start trudging around with the bin of clean…and wrinkling clothes. Reaching the couch I start humming a little, Linkin Park’s Shadow Of The Day. “And the sun, will set for you,” I sing the chorus to myself, my head swinging lightly to the beat of the song playing on softly on the radio near by. “And the sun… will set for you.”

“Hey, so you do have a good voice!”

“Alex!” I scream in a shrill voice, whirling around in shock at his sudden appearance. He beams at the doorway, the front door still open. He waves, and quickly shuts the door, walking on over.

“I knew you could sing,” he grins.

I scowl at him. “I don’t sing, Alex. I’m just humming, okay?”

“But we’re on tour,” he pouts, widening his arms around. “Tour.”

“So I noticed,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes. “Now go away, or you can do your own laundry- and everyone else’s,” I add.

He sticks out his tongue and pouts. “Come on, Bailey… sing with me! If not now, how about on stage?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“How about not?” I give him a look.

“It’s not that hard,” he protests. “And you’re really good, I swear. We could totally do a duet or something!”

“No, Alex. No, no, and no.”

“But Bailey, come on! We’re hardly together here on tour, Bay. I want us to do something together and this would be just perfect,” he persists.

“Well maybe I don’t want to do something perfectly together with you,” I snap, putting my hand on my hip. “Now I’m trying to work here, Alex. Go off and be immature with your friends, why don’t you?”

Alex looks at me blankly, and blinks. Then I realize what I just said and nearly wince with a sigh, running a hand through my hair. Hesitantly I open my mouth, trying to think of something to say, to make it better, but… but I just can’t. “Oh, save it,” Alex mutters. “It would be a lie, anyways.” And hanging his head, he walks on out.

“Alex,” I moan softly after the door slams shut. I fall back on the couch, next to the basket. I put my head in my hands, shaking it lightly. This tour is just so… it’s so stressing! Moving around constantly, all this crappy food, all the guys around constantly, no peace and quiet, and Alex just… suffocating me!

But… well, he’s trying, the little voice in my head says. He’s trying to make me feel at home. He’s made dinner, kept the guys out of my stuff, he makes sure they behave around me, and he tries to include me in everything so I’m not lonely.

Oh, curse my stupid girl moods.

I lean back on the frumpy couch, thinking about it. Well, he’s done so much for me… but what have I actually done for him? Except for the fact that I’m still here- but I suppose that doesn’t really count. Biting my lip, I fish out my cell phone and call a number. “Hey, Rian? Yeah, it’s Bay. I was wondering if you could hook me up with something…”