Dichotomy.

“She’s doing good, don’t you think?” Spencer nudges me.

I frown, my mouth twitching indecisively.

We wait outside the soundproof studio as she does her first solo interview with a local radio station.

We hadn’t told anyone about her joining us on tour, partly for an element of surprise, and partly because of her insistence of never being put on the spot. Ever.

I don’t know why, but I guess the press is more interested in her than we predicted.

The truth is, we don’t know many details about her ourselves.

She doesn’t let us.

The interview’s over a few minutes later, to my relief.

I was getting bored and antsy.

“You did great,” Spencer smiles proudly, nudging me for words to encourage her.

Like I’m her fucking mother or some shit.

“You didn’t do as bad as I thought you would,” I answer. He rolls his eyes in exasperation. “You know, with your being anti-social and all.”

The truth is...she did much better than I thought she would.

“Encouraging as ever, Bren. Thanks,” she sardonically replies, unfazed by my comment.

She’s used to it by now.

Her and Spencer walk ahead of me chatting somewhat, then during the taxi ride back to the bus as well.

“Why don’t we head over to Angels and Kings early?” Spencer suggests, suddenly. “We can pick up Haley from her hotel and head right over in a cab.”

It takes me a second to remember that we have a small acoustic set scheduled at Pete’s bar tonight before we leave the city.

A few hours later, Spencer and I wait in the lobby for the two of them, letting them have their girl time before we go out.

I check my phone. Our set is in little less than two hours.

I tap my fingers against my jeans impatiently, glancing over at Spencer to see he’s doing the same.

“Where-” I start to complain, but then he stands up, nodding towards the elevator doors.

Haley spots us and heads over. She has a smile on her face, looking at Spence, and I’m wondering where-

Tina’s trailing behind, done up in what has to be one of Haley’s clothes- a very short dress with leggings, flats, and a touch of makeup.

She looks uncomfortable.

Uncomfortably beautiful.

-rewind to where I didn’t just think that last thought.

See, half my mind is reminding me that I hate her, and the other half wants to buy a hotel room for the night.

Then the whole of my mind collectively reminds me that I have a girlfriend waiting for me back home.

Then I’m realizing that they’ve all started walking towards the door and are staring at me expectantly.

“Coming,” I say hastily, catching up.

I have a drink or two before our set starts, which I normally don’t do, but tonight I’m distracted.

I almost forget the words because I’m thinking about-

Never mind.

Spencer glances at me strangely and I don’t look at either of them for the remainder of the set.

I head for the bar afterwards to give Haley and Spencer some alone time, and to give myself some alone time, too. I do a quick glance-around out of my curiosity to know where she is.

She happily hugs Tom and kisses him on the cheek nearby.

There’s a strange feeling in my chest that I ignore.

Then it’s gone, and I’m feeling something else.

I have the odd urge to call Kellie because I suddenly feel kind of…lonely.

Instead, I order another drink.

Two more later, I’m startled to see she’s sat down next to me, sipping something.

I turn to say something, but end up staring blankly at her, admiring Haley’s metamorphosis of Tina’s appearance.

“What?” she asks irritably, noticing my scrutinizing stare. Her hair is redder under the dim bar lights.

“Nothing,” I answer, turning back to my glass, which is almost empty, again.

“I don’t know that I like being drunk,” she remarks suddenly, as she finishes off hers.

“Let me buy you the next one,” I offer. She shrugs. “What’s not to like?” I reply, to her previous statement. “You don’t have to think so much.”

“Sure you do,” she answers, knowing I’m lying. “You think way too much. You just don’t know it because there’s too many thoughts to keep track of for more than a few seconds.”

“Then what are you thinking about right now?” I ask, another round later.

“My old bandmates,” she answers, already a little tipsy. Lightweight.

“What about them?” I prod, curiously.

She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head, as if that will keep her from telling me.

“Do you want to go back to the bus?” comes out of my lips next.

“Yeah,” she answers, to my surprise.

The cab ride back is mostly silent, that is, until I start pestering her again.

“So what happened with you and your bandmates that messed everything up?” I ask, and she glares at me, not answering, but I’m drunk enough that I just keep running my mouth. “It must have been pretty bad to fuck everything up like that.”

She ignores me, but I can feel the anger radiating off her skin.

“You know, you should really get over it. You can’t change anything now,” I continue, after we’ve gotten out of the cab.

“What the fuck ever, Brendon. You don’t know half of what happened,” she finally tells me off, but she’s not yelling. “You’re telling me to move on; you don’t know that you’re saying. You can’t even move on.”

“What does that mean?” I demand. Now she’s just getting on my nerves again, I’m barely even noticing how great her chest looks in that dress anymore.

She laughs humorlessly.

“You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know what?” I ask impatiently through gritted teeth. She just shakes her head at me with a twisted, knowing smile.

“It will never be the same, Brendon. You can’t rewind and go back to how it was. Get over it,” she states placidly, using my own words against me.

She leaves me outside the bus, slamming the door as she goes inside, and I’m just trying not to let her get to me, again.

I hate her, and I'm still lonely.