Sketch City

So it's been three days since Gabe "dropped the bomb." Three incredibly awkward days. I honestly don't know what to say to him. I haven't told my band what he said, but I have a feeling they already know. Cobra knows, too. And Jack, from All Time Low. I guess everyone knew but me. Great. Just wonderful.
So here I am, wandering about the grounds before the doors open for the day, the fourth day of the tour, and only the second show so far. As I walk, I see someone walking over to me from the corner of my eye. Jack Barakat. Speak of the devil....
"Hey Ade. How's it goin'?"
I gave him a level stare, "Wonderful Jackary. How are you on this fine, 98 degree day?"
He frowned. He didn't like me calling him Jackary--but I didn't like him constantly talking about how sad Gabe was, either, so there.
"Aw, Ade, must you call me that? I mean, really, it is so unnecessary."
"Actually Jackary," I said with emphasis, "it is necessary. Especially when you keep talking about Gabriel."
He sighed and grabbed my hand, swinging it in a (very) wide arc and leading me toward the busses (and vans)--Jack's favorite place to talk. When we were standing outside of All Time Low's bus (yes, they got a real bus. So unfair.) Jack let go of my hand and faced me.
"Adrienne," I frowned a the use of my whole name, "he really wants to talk to you. Even if it isn't about, ya know...what he said to you. He misses you Ade."
Ugh, I hate when they get all mushy on me. "He misses you," and "He loves you," and "Can I have him?" and...wait. Not that last one. But the other two, they were really annoying.
"But Jackary! What am I supposed to say to him? I need some serious help here!"
"Pfft! You're asking me for love help? How many girls have you seen me with?"
I started to answer, but he silenced me.
"Not what I meant, Ade. I mean how many girlfriends. Real girlfriends, not just...ya know."
"Groupie sluts?"
"Well...yeah."
This is true. He sucked with relationships.
"This is true. You suck at relationships."
"Gee thanks, Ade. Thanks for the ego boost."
"Yeah, like you need one. Your head is big enough."
"My head is not large! It is proportionate to my body!"
I stopped myself before I responded. Alex had just come off the bus, running a hand through his hair like he had just woken up--actually, that was probably true. He never got up before eleven.
"Hey Alex." We said, pausing our conversation.
"Hey Ade. Jackary."
Jack growled. He hated that I had gotten his band to call him Jackary.
"Hey Alexander," now it was Alex's turn to grump, "Adrienne here needs a little...love advice. Care to help her?"
Alex? Help me? Yeah, okay.
"Me? Help Ade? Yeah, whatever Jack. Do us all a favor and stop smoking... whatever you're smoking."
"Alex, I'm serious! Can't you try?"
"Look," he turned to me, "Do you really need help with Gabe?"
"...Yes."
"Well, then I have one thing to say to you."
"And what would that be Mr. G?"
"Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn't."
"...Alright. Now what were you gonna tell me?"
"That's it. You know the answer."
"What?! If I knew the answer, why on Earth would I be asking--"
But Alex was already walking away.
Jackary was standing behind me, also looking conflicted.
"Damn," Jack said, "I never knew the kid could be so deep."
"Jack...he wrote Jasey Rae. He can be deep."
"Meh. Not the point. The point is that you need to get that gorgeous little butt over to Cobra's bus and tell Gabe whatever you want to tell him."
"Gee thanks, Jack. Thanks for nothing."
He just laughed, "Anytime!"
I hate them all.

I grab my phone and punch in the number.
"Hey...Gabe? It's Ade. We need to talk..."