Denial Used to Feel So Good

I managed to evade a hangover. I have no idea how, considering that Tony and I attacked that bottle of wine like it was the last thing we'd ever do. Maybe it's because I've had years of drinking practice. Either way, I was glad that when I got up at six thirty the next morning it wasn't with a headache. The packing fairy had visited (I suspected it was Vicky this time) and all I had to do was grab my bags and hop in the van with a very, very hung-over Tony. That had to be the one and only time I was ever thankful for my ability to drink.

"Feeling like shit, Ton?" I asked sympathetically, offering him my sweatshirt to use as a pillow. He nodded, grabbing my sweatshirt, placing it in my lap and then resting his head there, "I'm sorry, baby." I stroked his hair and we pulled out of the parking lot.

"Yeah, I shouldn't have drank all that shit last night. But it was fun." He gave a goofy grin and I giggled.

"For you maybe. I was the one who made a fool of myself...or so I hear." I had talked to Gabe that morning, while he and Tony were packing up their stuff in their room and he seemed in a surprisingly good mood even though I almost spilled our secret to the worst possible person. But at least we weren't fighting anymore.

"Everyone makes a fool of themselves when they drink. It's the Law of Alcohol." Tony mumbled, closing his eyes.

"Yeah? I'll have to remember that one." I laughed, "Do you know where we're going?" I asked after a moment of silence and staring out the window. I felt Tony laugh.

"You never know where you're going, Kyle." He muttered, "We're going home."

"What?!" I screeched, "Tour's not over yet!"

Tony sat up, frowning, "Well, duh." He rolled his eyes, "We're playing a show at home tonight and then we're going to move on."

"We are?" I choked out.

"Relax, Kyle. I know that you hate it there, but we're only going be staying a couple hours and then we're back on the road." Tony placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"T-Tony-" I squeaked, suddenly finding it hard to breathe, "What if-"

"Kyle." He started sternly, "You aren't going to see anyone you know there. Don't even think about the people, okay? I promise, everything will be fine."

"Tony I cannot perform at home. I can't do it." I shook my head, "Please, don't make me. Can't we skip this venue? It'll save me a heart attack."

Sighing he situated himself again, lying down with his head on my lap, "We're performing and you will be fine." He shut his eyes and I knew that was the end of our discussion.

The rest of the day was what we all had come to recognized as normal. It was spent hour by hour; highway driving. There's something about sitting in one spot for so long that makes everyone sleepy. Most of the time was occupied by sleeping, hardly anyone every talked to each other, unless of course Sisky got bored.

When I really started to freak out was when I started to identify the scene. I was able to look out the window and know exactly where we were. I hated it. I hated home. So I did my best to shut my eyes and fall back asleep. Guess how well that turned out. I pretty much kept my eyes closed until we got to the venue.

By the time I got out of the van, I was shaking. Tony had and arm around my waist and was attempting to comfort me, but in all honesty, I wasn't listening. I kept my head down as he led me inside the venue, in the hopes that I would see anyone I knew and they wouldn't see me. This was going to be a disaster.

"Kyle!" I jumped, upon hearing my name and Tony sighed.

"It's only Bill," He whispered, "do you want to talk to him? I can make him go away." As appealing as that offer was, I knew William was going to do nothing but harass me until I talked to him. I shook my head.

"No. I-I mean, yeah, I'll talk to him." I gave Tony a weak smile and he nodded, going off to set up his drums.

"Kyle." Bill said. I turned to face him and the fake smile I had plastered on my face, fell.

"Oh my god! William!" I gasped, reaching out and brushing my fingers over his swollen cheek and lips, "What the hell happened?!" I wasn't asking out of concern, only out of shock.

"It's really not that bad." He brushed it off, playing the tough guy.

"Shit...it looks horrible." I mumbled, slightly fascinated.

He laughed, "Thanks. But listen-" He reached up and grabbed my hand that was touching his cheek, holding it between both of his, "I want to apologize. I'm so truly sorry that I told everyone we slept together...It was one of those guy things, you know?" A guy thing? That's repulsive. Gabe doesn't even do that.He sighed, "If there's anything I can do to make it up to you." He offered. I shrugged, pulling my hand away from his.

"Bill, I don't know." I replied, tucking my hair behind my ears.

"Kyle, please." He begged, pulling out his puppy eyes. I winced, god he was astoundingly good at this 'hurt victim' thing. With the battle wounds and the freaking pout-y eyes. Shit, he was better than I was.

"Kyle!" I tore my gaze away from William and looked over my shoulder to see Vicky beckoning me. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I'll think about it William." I said finally before turning around and walking over to Vicky.

"What was that about?" She asked curiously, looking over my shoulder at William. I shook my head.

"Nothing, him just being-ugh-Bill I guess." I rolled my eyes, "What's up?" A smirk grew on her lips and she leaned forward as if to tell me a secret.

"Gabe wants you in his dressing room." She whispered, pulling back and winking at me.

"Ooh, how dirty." I giggled, "Thanks Vicky."

"No problem." She grinned, skipping away, happy that she'd done her duty. I rolled my eyes at her. She really loved Gabe and I together. I chuckled to myself and headed to the dressing rooms. I made sure that no one was around before I slipped in Gabe's.

"Vicky said you wanted me in your dressing room?" I cocked an eyebrow at Gabe, who was seated on the couch. He stood up with a smirk and walked over to me.

"I want you everywhere, chica, it doesn't matter which room." He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed me deeply.

"You certainly do know how to make a girl swoon, don't you Saporta?" I panted when we pulled away.

"Absolutamente señorita." He muttered, kissing my neck. My eyes fluttered shut and my breath caught in my throat.

"Gabriel, you know what your speaking Spanish does to me. Why must you tease me to no end?" I moaned as he continued to place his lips on every inch of exposed skin.

"Hey, you think this is teasing?" he scoffed, lifting his head to stare me in the eye, "You're the one who's been wearing those purple pants all day." He raised an eye brow, "And this incredibly revealing top." He raised his hand to my neck and let it wander down the low neckline of my shirt. I caught his hand before it could wander too far.

"Yeah, I do it to drive you crazy." I breathed, closing the space between us. He broke away a few seconds later, grinning.

"I knew it." He gave me another peck on the lips, before grabbing my hand and pulling me over to the couch. He sat down and pulled me on his lap, "So, how does it feel to be home?" He asked excitedly.

"I don't want to be here." I admitted, "I don't want to perform."

He frowned, obviously not expecting that reaction, "Well...why not?"

"I hate it here." I whispered, picking at my nails as I did so. I could sense Gabe's confusion and there was a moment of silence where I could tell he didn't know what to say or how to comfort me.

"But I'm here with you." He tried feebly, "That's got to make one positive experience, right?" I laughed lightly and shrugged.

"Yeah you're right. I'm just being over dramatic. It's stupid." I shook my head and sighed deeply.

"You're not being over dramatic and it's not stupid." I could tell Gabe was rolling his eyes. He planted a kiss on my shoulder, before resting his chin in the same spot, "You're going to dance with me tonight, right chica?

"Only if you want me to." I joked; a hint of seriousness cloaked in my words.

"I will always want you to."