I Hate Myself Without You

“Alright, can I just say holy fuck?” Zack exclaimed. “You guys are LOUD! I swear you're louder than us sometimes!”

“I bet I can be louder!” Airin yelled from his kit. The crowd cheered loudly.

“No! No, we don't need this! Everyone shut up!” I yelled at everyone. Airin laughed and shook his head.

“I still think I could win. Everyone who thinks they can be louder than me, meet me after the show!” A bunch of people cheered. I rolled my eyes at him. I looked over at Jason who was walking over to me to take my guitar away. He had just finished setting up my keyboard.

“So, you guys have been absolutely amazing, and I want to thank all of you for giving us a chance to try out our new material,” I said, walking behind the keyboard with my mic. I put it into the stand. “Hopefully you guys liked it.” There were cheers and applause. I loved the sound of it. “We're so excited for this new album, and I hope you guys are too!”

“It comes out on my birthday! Buy it January fourth, and it will be the best present ever!” Airin said. I smiled at him. So far, all of our albums had been released on someone's birthday in the band. The first album came out on Keith's birthday (August 24th), the second album was released on Marque's (January 31st) and now the third was going to be on Airin's. It was just like a present for the person.

“So, we're going to end with a little cover here. It's something everyone should hopefully know. I've even got something for this.” I said and walked off stage quickly, and returned a few minutes later with a blond wig covering my auburn hair. Everyone started laughing and cheering when I came back out. Zack was laughing the hardest out of anyone. “I'm Lady fucking Gaga, what now?”

“Josline, I'm sorry, but you don't look good as a blond!” Zack laughed at me. “When you're part Italian, blond never looks good on you! And I know this from experience!”

“Yeah, blond's definitely not your colour sweetheart,” Marque added. “Your Italian eyebrows do nothing for it.” I was part Italian on my moms side. My grandma was Italian, and my grandpa was Irish. My dad was completely British. I got the Italian looks, tanned skin, dark eyebrows. You definitely see the British in Airin. He was pale and had these weird eyebrows that seemed to work with any hair colour he chose. He seemed to prefer fire engine red or sky blue. That night it was red.

“Can we stop talking about my Italian eyebrows and just play the fucking song?” I said.

“No, we like picking on your Italian eyebrows,” Keith mentioned.

“Well, I like kicking you in the balls. Can I do that, and then play?” I said to Keith. He just looked down at the ground. I laughed and we played “Bad Romance”. After that, we got off stage and got a little cleaned up. Zack, Airin, and Keith chilled at the merch table for the first little while. Marque went and took a little nap. He always did that after a set. I never understood why. I went and changed my shirt (I always brought a spare with me). The first thing I did after I changed was call Eloisa. I needed to know how Finley was doing, since he was still a little sick. Eloisa told me he was doing fine, and that both Finley and Duncan were curled up on her couch.

When I finally made it out to the merch table, I became so distracted with everything that was going on with me. I was very surprised that any of us hadn't contracted carpal tunnel with all the signing that we had done over the past few years. About halfway through The New Cities set, I noticed Airin had wandered off to the side to have a major coughing fit. Airin was rarely ever sick, but he did say before the show that his throat was really irritated. When he came back, he noticed the sudden concern on my face. He pulled me over to the side. “You okay Jaws?” he asked me.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I told him. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm feeling fine. I just have something caught in my throat. It's nothing to concern yourself with,” Airin said. I frowned, but Airin insisted it was nothing. It probably was nothing, and I was just worrying over nothing.

When the night was over, everyone helped me bring my things into my house. Josh showed up about 20 minutes after I had finished getting everything into the basement with all of his things. Once all of his things were in the house, Josh went and got Finley. I was sitting on the couch when he walked in with a sleeping Finley in his arms. Josh really was a good dad. I think that really shocked everyone with how well he adapted to it. “El said that he's been kind of drifting on and off since 8.”

“Does he feel hot or anything?” I asked, sitting up straight. Josh felt Finley's forehead.

“Not really. He's a little warm,” Josh explained. “I'll just go put him to be.” Josh said, walking into Finley's room. He came out a few minutes later and plopped himself down next to me.

“So, are you glad to be home?” I asked him. Josh laced his fingers through mine.

“So glad. You have no clue how much I missed you,” Josh smiled at me.

“You have no idea how hard it's been without you here.”

“I don't?”

“No. You don't,” I said. “It's hard waking up in the middle of the night and not having you there. It's hard not having you here when I just need a hug. It's just hard.” Josh squeezed my hand.

“Well, do you know how hard it is waking up to Matt some mornings?” Josh smiled. I laughed and shook my head. “I really don't want to see his face first thing in the morning.” he said to me. “But, we'll have plenty of time to make it up to each other before you leave for your tour in January.”

“That's going to come up pretty fast here. It's almost December after all,” I explained.

“That's true,” Josh said. We were quiet for a few seconds. “I can't believe Finley's almost 5.”

“I don't even want to think about that right now,” I said. “It makes me depressed even thinking about that.”

“Why does it depress you?”

“Because. It really seems like only a few weeks ago we were bringing Finley home, and that he was learning to walk. And when he said his first word!”

“What was his first word?” Josh asked.

“Coke, no thanks to you,” I nudged him slightly. Josh just smiled proudly.

“Ah, I always knew he was my kid,” Josh smirked at me. “He's definitely a mini-me.”

“That's what I was hoping he WOULDN'T turn out as,” I retorted. Josh narrowed his eyes at me. “At least he looks like me.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means, I'm glad he looks like me? What else would it mean?” I asked.

“I thought you were implying that I'm not attractive,” Josh said.

“I would have just said that then,” I smirked. Josh didn't catch on that I was actually insulting him at first.

After a few minutes, he exclaimed, “Hey! I am too good-looking!” I slapped my forehead.

“Well, if you think so...” I said cheekily. Josh shook his head at me.

“You're so mean.”

“And you love it.”