Antivegetarianism

It took me a few minutes to realize what I had said. It only took them a few seconds.

“Are you feeling okay, Frank?” Mikey asked warily. I ignored him and crawled back into bed. I was in no mood to deal with their meaningless questions.

“Maybe he’s sick or something,” Bob offered.

“No, he’s just in a mood,” said Gerard. I narrowed my eyes at the wall, but said nothing. Maybe they would leave and I’d finally get some peace and quiet.

“Whatever. Let’s just go,” said Ray. He sounded impatient. Even better.

The door of the bus opened and closed just seconds later. I sighed deeply. Finally.

But I knew it wouldn’t last. They would return later, probably even louder and more obnoxious after meeting any fans. And then they would yell at me for not going with them, saying people were worried about me, hoping I wasn’t sick, begging for my phone number.

You know. The usual.

I had to do something to change it. I couldn’t go on with only four hours of sleep - or less - per night. We had to do concerts almost every other night. I was practically addicted to coffee now. It was the only way I could scrape together enough energy to perform anymore.

It wasn’t always like that. It used to be that just standing backstage was enough to get my adrenaline going. The screams of the fans would drive me mad with impatience. The others could feel it, too. I could tell.

But after a while, my body began to protest against all the abuse. So I took to coffee as my form of energy. And even that began to lose its effect after a while. I could never have energy drinks, though. My hands would shake uncontrollably, just from all the sugar. It was almost more than I could stand.

At least it’s over now. Sleep…I want to sleep so badly…

I should probably clean up this mess first. Brian will yell at me if I don’t, and I can’t stand any more yelling. Not at this hour.

If you’re wondering what I mean, let me explain.

There are currently four plates sitting in front of me. I was a lot hungrier than I had thought. I guess I thought food would help restore some of my energy.

After thinking that, I realized what my problem might be:

I was a vegetarian.

No, I was a vegan. No wonder I was so tired!

I decided to try something different.

First of all, I didn’t go out and eat the nearest hamburger, if that’s what you’re thinking. That would just be cruel.

I was hungry, though. So I came up with a better idea.

I searched every inch of the bus, ignoring the questions of the other bands nearby, all wondering what I was doing. They didn’t need to know.

I finally found what I was looking for a good half hour later. I grabbed the handle of the toolbox and wrenched it out of its spot. It flew open in the process and sent tools flying all over the floor of the back of the bus, but luckily I wasn’t injured. It only took me a few seconds to locate what I needed. I held it up against the light, careful not to drop it. It was heavy, but well-balanced in my hand. Perfect.

I placed it in one of the cabinets we never used, knowing no one would look there. I could easily find it that way.

They returned exactly nine minutes and seven seconds after that. I know. I was counting. As I had expected, they were a little upset that I had stayed behind, especially Gerard. He didn’t seem to realize that if I wanted to stay in the bus, that’s what I would do. End of story.

I carefully positioned myself near the door, locking it while none of them were paying attention. They were too busy chatting away, as noisily as usual. Mikey, Ray, and Bob walked toward the back of the bus to play video games, while Gerard began searching for the TV remote. He wouldn’t find it, naturally. I had hidden it. It was time they started paying attention to me.

“Have you seen the remote, Frankie?” he asked me. Then he smiled. “Or did you eat it?”

“No, I don’t know where it is. You’re the one who had it last,” I pointed out. He nodded and continued searching, even resorting to looking in the fridge after a minute or so. I grew nervous as he approached the cabinets.

“Maybe someone put it up h-”

“No!” I said, maybe a little too quickly. He froze mid-reach, looking at me with a mix of confusion and mild amusement. “Uh…why don’t you go back and hang out with the guys? I’ll look for it.” He seemed a little unconvinced.

“Any reason you don’t want me looking up there?” he asked with a suspicious tone. My brain worked fast to concoct an answer.

“Fine. I put Mikey’s birthday present up there, and I don’t want you to tell him what it is,” I said, looking as sheepish as I could. He smiled.

“You know I’d keep it a secret,” he said. I shook my head.

“Sorry, but I can’t trust you with that information. You guys can probably read each other’s minds by now,” I said firmly. He smiled again and sighed.

“Fine, I’ll leave you to your ‘searching’ then.” He began to walk away. I knelt to the ground and looked under the sofa, looking for nothing but empty space.

“Hey, I see it!” I cried. I reached for it, falling far short of the wall. Gerard turned around and walked over to me. “I can’t quite get it. Help?” I asked, looking up at him with a false smile. He halfheartedly shoved me out of the way and looked. I quickly reached up into the cabinet and grabbed the tool.

“I don’t see any-”

My arm went limp and gravity did its work. The gash was clearly visible, even through the jacket he wore. I must have hit the spinal cord, because he began convulsing violently, but he didn’t scream. Even better. I waited until he finally stopped moving and shoved his lifeless form under the sofa until it was completely hidden. I dropped a pillow the bloodstain painting the carpet, and the task was finished.

Well, at first, anyway.