Like You to Me

I can’t honestly say my luck was much better in San Antonio. The drive there seemed longer than it should have. In all honesty, even ten minutes in the van seemed like too much. The tension was horribly thick and no one muttered a word the entire drive. Luke tried to start a conversation by asking everyone if he should stop for food but no one answered him. Anderson was the only one to get out of the van when we stopped for gas at a 7-Eleven right outside of Dallas; after pumping it, he went inside to pay and picked up a first aid kit and a Slurpee. He didn’t bother asking anyone else if they wanted something but it would’ve been of no use anyway. Except for Luke and myself, everyone else was asleep. After icing his face and finishing his drink, Anderson was as well.

Although I never expect tour to go exceptionally well, I didn’t think it would be this bad. Fighting with Anderson was nothing new. We hadn’t gotten along since day one, yet what he didn’t realize was that he was only in the band because of me. I’d been there through all the vocalist tryouts and thought he was the best fit for the sound my brother and Darby, who started the band in the Carle basement, were going for. We’d all grown up in the local scene and watched as the edgier bands flourished and the pop-punk bands got their fifteen minutes of fame before burning out. Saxon and I both developed a love and appreciation for harder music; it only made sense that he’d want to model his own band after that sound. Things came together nicely at first. He’d met Darby at the guitar shop and they hit it off instantly. Sort of like love at first sight but focused solely on musical ability and skill. It was Darby’s idea to bring in Zach, who knew Luke somehow and asked him to email over some demos. The rest was history, almost, until it came time to find a vocalist.

For some reason, my brother trusted my judgment more than that of his bandmates. Because of this, I sat through dozens, almost hundreds, of auditions. As I said before, Darby was beyond well-known for his guitar playing. Kids from all over the state were itching to be in a band with him because it was almost a sure-shot that the band would be successful. Both guys and girls showed up in our basement every day for hours on end. Most of the time I sat there with a notebook, doodling designs and only paying half-attention to what was going on. When Anderson sang, however, I nearly dropped everything I was doing in an attempt to convince my brother he was it. Saxon wasn’t as sure as I was, though. Like Darby, Anderson came with a reputation. He could belt out a tune, no one disputed that, but it was unanimous that no one wanted to deal with him. Still, at my persistence, they brought him back for a few more auditions and eventually asked him to join. All because of me.

Sitting in the last row of the van, with the night’s events playing over and over in my mind, none of that seemed to matter anymore. He was thankful at first but it eventually wore off and his true colors shone through. I was surprised that my brother hadn’t thrown it back in my face. Maybe he would’ve if it didn’t occur at the same time the band started getting big. It was almost like Anderson waited until kicking him out wasn’t really an option to show everyone who he truly was. Even though he was the biggest asshole in the world, he wasn’t dumb.

I guess a lot of things didn’t matter in that moment. Reinstating my friendship with Mike didn’t matter because he dropped off the planet all of a sudden. My text messages went unanswered and so did my phone calls. I felt so pathetic. And stupid. And slutty. I kept telling myself over and over that it was Mike, it was me -- I had to mean more than just a few fucks, and I was sure I didn’t deserve to be ignored. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I didn’t even know why. Above everything, I felt like I should’ve known better. Even though us having sex happened in the moment and we did it without thinking, I should’ve known it was going to end like this. Mike just didn’t maintain friendships, relationships, whatever after sex came into the picture. It was either a one night stand or it was an established relationship. Obviously, I fell into only one of those categories.

Someone shook me awake at roughly five in the morning. We’d left the venue in Dallas around midnight. After stopping for gas and Luke’s occasional bathroom break, we made it in the typical amount of time. On some of the longer tours, I’d acquired the habit of Googling the time it took to get from city to city. According to some website called BlurtIt, the estimated time of travel was four hours and twenty-four minutes. Luke was almost anal about being on time, whether it be for band practice or his driving shifts. If Zach had been driving, we probably wouldn’t have gotten to San Antonio until seven.

The label my brother’s band was signed to paid for very little. In fact, they didn’t pay for much at all. All the gas, food, and lodging expenses were paid for by the band members (and myself), but the band, as a whole, was given $700 per week of touring. What they chose to spend the money on was up to them. Most of the time it was spent on hotel rooms because nothing beats that one hot shower you take after going days without one. When we pulled into the Days Inn parking lot, it was like Luke had awoken everyone from the dead. For the few moments everything was groggy and the fight was pushed to the back of everyone’s minds, they all got along long enough to decide upon getting two separate rooms. I’d be rooming with my brother and Zach; I was fine with this. I knew I’d get a bed to myself (even though they were doubles) because my brother wouldn’t let anyone sleep in the same one as me and the thought of us sharing a bed was grotesque to him. It would’ve been stupid of me to complain.

The show the following night didn’t start until seven-thirty. The band had played White Rabbit a few times before and the crowds were always decent. Their pull was actually quite good for such a small band until you hit the northeastern states. The farthest north we’d be going was Massachusetts so there wasn’t much to worry about. Even still, the bands they were touring with brought enough kids of their own that worrying at all would’ve been pointless. Regardless, a seven-thirty start time meant doors would be an hour earlier. Between load-in and soundcheck, we’d have to be at the venue by quarter to three at the latest. That gave us all enough time to catch up (properly) on our sleep, take a shower to relax, and try to forget the night before ever happened, although I wasn’t so sure that was as easily done as it was said.

I nearly dropped dead as soon as we reached our room. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was until I was given the opportunity to sleep in a real bed that didn’t move. Once we all shuffled inside, claimed beds (except for Zach, who was banished to the cot with a promise that my brother would take it next time), and changed into more comfortable sleeping attire, we all said our goodnights and it was lights out. Within a few minutes, my brother started snoring and I heard Zach groan. This elicited a laugh from me. It sounded almost like a foreign language.

“You still awake, Shea?” Zach asked. In the dark, I could see him roll on his side to face me. The cot was in between both of the beds. I took the one closest to the wall (and bathroom) and Saxon took the one closest to the windows and air conditioner.

“Yeah. Don’t think I’ll be getting to sleep anytime soon with a goddamn tornado going on a few beds over.”

Zach chuckled. “Do you mind if I asked what happened tonight?”

“I don’t really know, to tell you the truth,” I replied. “All I know is Anderson made some comment about me being a whore and then Saxon went after him. We were pretty high so nothing really made sense for a while.”

Zach rolled onto his back. “God, I’m so tired of that guy’s shit.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s just a fucking asshole, you know?” I nodded. “He thinks he’s some huge rockstar, not even realizing we’re the opening band on this tour package. In reality, he has no reason for his head to be that big. The only excuse would be if it was filled with dicks.”

“He’s always been that way, though,” I said.

“That’s not an excuse and it doesn’t mean you have to put up with it. You should’ve knocked him out yourself, but your brother did a pretty good job, I guess. His lip is pretty busted.”

I smiled. “Yeah, but so is Sax’s eye. He’s going to have a nice shiner for a few days.”

“I mean what I said, though, Shea: you don’t deserve it.”

Silence blanketed our conversation and, before I knew it, Zach was asleep too. I could tell by the pattern of his breathing. I knew sleep wasn’t going to come that easy for me. After smoking I got all sorts of paranoid and began thinking about things that only wound up making me sad. Like Mike, for instance. Why wasn’t he answering my texts? He always answered my texts. Even if he didn’t answer my phone calls he always called back as soon as he could. I knew he was in the process of recording his band’s second album but he always talked to me during his downtime in the studio. There were a million different solutions that I conjured up in my mind and every one of them was negative. Adele probably knew what was going on since she was good friends with Tony’s girlfriend but I almost didn’t want to know. You know what they say -- ignorance is bliss.

But it wasn’t this time. It was literally eating away at me. Everything I did reminded me of him and I couldn’t go two minutes without my thoughts doing the same. This was more than a crush now and I knew that. Having sex just made everything that much more complicated. It usually did.

By the time I felt able to fall asleep, the sun had completely risen and the clock on the bedside table read 7:26am. The two idiots beside me were as asleep as you could get without being dead. I figured I should attempt a few hours of rest before dealing with another crowd that would probably only get on my nerves. Forcing my eyes closed, I tried to convince my body to sleep by thinking only of the color black and singing Something Corporate’s “Down” to myself over and over. When I went through a bad breakup a few years ago, I could only get to sleep if I listened to that song. After meeting Mike, my sleeping patterns returned to normal. I didn’t lie awake all night long with SoCo on repeat, usually drowning myself in the tissues I used to wipe the tears from my eyes.

It seemed to have worked, because Saxon woke me up a few hours later, telling me it was my turn to use the shower. After doing so, we all repacked our things, checked out of the hotel, and crammed back into the van for the ride to White Rabbit. It was only a ten minute drive but it wasn’t any better than the last one. The tension was still present and it was nearly suffocating. I began unloading the appropriate boxes once we reached the venue. Zach helped me carry them inside and continued to help me set up the rest of the merch. It was seven-o’clock before I knew it and, just as I’d suspected, the kids were exceptionally annoying.

“Excuse me,” one girl said as she pushed her way to the front of the line. She only looked to be a few years younger than me -- nineteen was my guess -- with an innocent demeanor about her.

“What can I get for you?”

“I just had a question is all.” I nodded, urging her to continue. “Well, you’re Shea Carle, right?” I nodded again. “And you’re friends with Mike Fuentes?” Again, I nodded. “Do you, umm, know who his new girlfriend is by any chance?”

And in that moment, I swear the entire world stopped spinning.