When I Look at the Stars, I Feel Like Myself

“I'm glad to hear you're healthy and going good, Riley.” Mom told me as she had to go to work. I nodded, tears filling my eyes at how wrong she was.

“Yeah, mom, I am, too.” I tried not to let my voice tremble and I succeeded for the most part.

“I love you, Riley.”

“I love you, too, Mommy.” I whispered. I hadn't called her mommy since third grade. Except the time I was first diagnosed. My left shoulder was to the wall of the staircase as I leaned my head on it. I let the tears flow freely. I missed her and I felt so guilty.

I was lying to everyone around me.

My sobs seemed to echo through the small space.

“Riley?” I heard John's voice. “Are you okay?”

At least this time he and an excuse to ask, even if I didn't know how he found me. I mean, I was crying in a stairwell for Pete's sake. “Yeah, I just really miss my mom. I just got off the phone with her.”

“Is that all?” He sat beside me. I tried to think of something else that would make me cry that I could tell him. Nothing came.

“I'm just really homesick.” I laughed, wiping my eyes. “Ridiculous, huh?”

“No, it happens to us all. It's just what makes going home worthwhile. The people you love.” There was a pause, but then he spoke again. “I would give you a hug, but since you don't like people to touch you...” He tried to bait.

I debated. It would probably be a side hug since we're sitting that way, and he was to my right. He wouldn't feel it anyway.

But, I still hated being touched. I bit my lip lightly before replying, “I think...just once, a hug would be nice.” I nodded.

He beamed, wrapping his arms sideways around me, I rested my head on his shoulder. It actually wasn't bad, hugging John. I didn't get nervous, scared, or paranoid. When he pulled away, I wanted to hold him back, I refrained thinking it was too weird. He was like a big security blanket. Those few moments in his arms...everything felt..

Alright.

And it shouldn't have, which scared me a little bit.

“Alright, I know I said we'd hang out and do something spectacular today, but I have to do the whole band's laundry.” John sighed.

“That's nice of you.” I pointed out, unaware that he had used those same words on me yesterday.

He gave me a smile, “Not really, they're paying me.” He chuckled. “But, if you want to come to the launder-o-mat with me, you could. But I'd understand if you didn't.”

What else am I supposed to do today? Calvin, Dalton, and Holland left me behind. Elina was all spacey and left somewhere. RJ was with some boys he met yesterday and Ross...

I'm not sure where he was. Probably hanging out with all the other techies and managers. He and Flyzik seemed to get along really well.

“Sure, let me just grab everyone's clothes, too.” I shrugged.

“You're awfully considerate.” John said as we stood up.

“Is that a bad thing?” I questioned playfully. Where did that tone come from?

“No, it's just...different.” John stated.

“I'm different in a lot of ways, John.” I said, making my way into the hotel room. “I'll be a few minutes.”

I only did things like this in a last ditch effort to get on God's good graces. Maybe if I was nice enough, it would just go away. I mean, I must have done something terrible in order to get this disease, so I had to work and work to repay whatever horrible thing I did to him. I mean, there was that time when I stole that bear from Wal-Mart. But I was only six, I didn't know that you couldn't just take things you really wanted...

I'm guessing he waited, because he was leaning against the wall when I came out, a small smile on his face. “Do you know where All Time Low's room is?”

“You're doing their laundry too?” John asked incredulously.

A laugh escaped before I had time to think about it. “No, silly, I need Elina's bag.”

“Oh.” He said, “I didn't know she stayed in there. I figured it would be Calvin or RJ.”

“I love how you left Dalton out.” I smiled.

“First time he heard ATL was on tour, he said he would do 'dirty things' to Jack. I don't know how he is, but I figured you guys wouldn't let him near that situation...especially at night.” John joked.

“Smart.” I nodded, “Calvin and RJ can't be separated because Calvin has anxiety issues over him, Holland didn't want to because of Jack and...I didn't because of the whole touchy-feely thing.” John gave a short laugh.

“Makes sense. I'll show you there.” He nodded. I followed behind him, huge laundry bag in tow, to All Time Low's hotel room.

John knocked, Alex answered. “Ohhh, My man!” They did one of those weird handshake turned hug things. “Hey, Riley.” He saluted.

“Hello, Alex.” I smiled.

“What did you need?” Alex turned back to John.

“Ri over here needs Lina's clothing bag.” John motioned to me.

“Right-o.” Alex retreated back into the room and I followed.

I looked at her bag. It was a mess. I sighed, screwing my mouth to the side. “Something wrong?” Alex asked from the other bed, phone in hand.

Without looking at him, I answered, “I don't know what's clean and what's dirty. Usually it's pretty clear.” I leaned down, stuffing stray pieces in there, and zipped it up.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked, “Shouldn't you sort--”

“I'm taking it all.” I replied simply. “Thanks, Alex.” Once I got back out there, John noticed me struggling against with the laundry bag and now Elina's bag.

“Would you like help?” He asked, empty handed

“Where's your stuff?”

“Already in the van.” He smiled, taking the large white overstuffed laundry bag from me with ease. I pouted but followed.

…..

It took four super large front loading washers for everyone's clothes. Before shutting the last one, I thought for a second. The hoodie I was wearing hadn't been washed in a while and I wore it last night while onstage. It probably smelled something awful. Underneath, I had a modest but lowcut top on. I don't know why I owned so many since I hated them, but mom always insisted I get something to show off my cleavage.

I didn't know how to say no to my mother when it came to her trying to make me look nice. I was her only daughter, so she treated me like some kind of dress up doll. But, it made her happy and that's all I wanted to do.

I slowly pulled it off after making sure that John wasn't looking, but after I put it in, I noticed John staring at me, my body specifically. “What?” I asked, hands on hips, turned towards him.

I knew I had a nice body, the kind that men panted over. I knew that, but I didn't ever feel like I had. So, I stood in front of John, feigning confidence and security. “Nothing...you're just...” He stopped, realizing what he was about to say and covered with, “Really skinny...but you eat a lot. No offense.”

I shrugged, “Good genes, I guess.” Or the fact that between the breast cancer and chemotherapy, I had lost 50 pounds and couldn't gain it back. Sometimes, the fact that I was this skinny physically hurt me. But, I made up for it in toned muscles and tan skin. At least, according to every straight man's thoughts.

I paid my complete attention to starting the washer after loading the money in. “Now...we wait.” John said, sitting himself in one of the many uncomfortable looking chairs in the building. I sat down slowly.

“Hey, I just had a brilliant idea.” John whispered after a while. I opened one of my closed eyes to look at him through it, raising the same eyebrow. “Let me push you around in the laundry carts.”

“Why?”

“Because I think it would be fun.”

“We'd get in trouble, John.” I reprimanded.

“There's nobody else here.” He coaxed, leaning in so he was close to me. I got chills I didn't know what to do with, I rubbed my arms inconspicuously.

It took a little more persistence, and finally, I was fed up, “If I do it, will you stop asking me?”

“Uhhh....duh.” John said, and I blushed a little in embarrassment. Stupid question. So, with a little bit of fumbling, I was in the basket of the large laundry hamper on wheels. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, hands tight on the wire basket. I was a little scared, not going to lie. Mostly because I wasn't sure how fast he was going to be going...

“Go!” He shouted, running at top speed already.

I screamed.

“John! Stop!” I shouted, but couldn't stop the giddy laughter that rose up in my throat. “Stop!” I shouted again when he disobeyed. The feelings of excitement built as we were heading straight for the opposing wall. “JOHN!”

He turned sharply, causing my heart to fly up into my throat. I realized I had thrown my hands over my eyes to brace for the impact. I couldn't bring myself to uncover them. I didn't want to see again when we were headed towards another wall.

I was breathing hard, I hadn't let go like that in a while. Sure, being in a cart wasn't that scary. It wasn't that fact, it was the fact that I was trusting John not to slam me into the concrete brick wall or dump me onto the floor. I didn't trust just anyone, and that's what made me the most scared.

I barely know him. I don't know his phone number, if he had any siblings, how old he was, his birthday, if he went to college before becoming a rock star, if he had and pets. I didn't know half of the basic stuff that you need to know to say you even know them halfway.

My brain hurts.

I felt hands wrap around my wrist and John's face appeared. “We stopped.” He chuckled, “You can look now.”

“Oh.” Was all I could say. I looked at his hands still wrapped around my wrist, he quickly released them.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“It's okay.” I climbed out of the cart just in time for all four washers to go off within moments of each other. Wheeling the cart over to them, I started emptying the clothes, John helping in silence.

I could feel it, the tension that crackled between us. I didn't know what to say, but I didn't want it to get awkward. “So...how old are you, John?” I asked. I wanted to know him more, so that I had a reason to trust him.

“Random. But, I turned 21 August fourth.” He answered. “You?”

“I'm seventeen. I will be 18 on December 31st.” I replied, absentmindedly pulling the clothes from the washer.

“Awww, please tell me you were the last baby born in that hospital of the year.” John replied excitedly. Why he was so expectant, I have no clue.

“No, I was an afternoon baby.” I smiled slightly at his pout. And it went on like that for a while, just asking and answering random questions about each other.

“Who has the better voice? Alex Gaskarth, or me?” He asked, and I chuckled.

“Fishing for compliments?” I raised an eyebrow. “I like Calvin's voice better than both of yours.” I answered, chewing on some candy we had bought from the vending machines.

“He doesn't count, you're biased.”

“Fine, I like yours better.”

“Why?” He asked through a smile.

“Well, more than just your voice, I like your lyrics better. With All Time Low, it's like...okay this is another song about a girl, but with yours...you know, it could be about a girl, but it's more like...you're just talking about life in general.”

He looked taken back by my words, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out for a couple of seconds, “That's...exactly right. Most people don't catch onto that.”

I shrugged, “I like to look at the bigger picture.”

“That's what I like about you, I think.” He complimented, “Want to give the cart another go?”

“Okay, but how about...it's your turn now?”

“Are you sure you can push me?” He asked, disbelieving. I raised my arms and flexed my muscles.

“I think I've got it in me.” I laughed.

He didn't scream like I had, or even throw his hands over his eyes, he just laughed. “Riley, go faster!” He shouted, much like a little kid would.

I ran faster, pushing him along.

When I was too tired to continue, he insisted I go for another ride. I didn't scream as much this time, and I laughed harder. I don't think I've laughed this genuinely in quite some time. And why was it John who was starting it?

I guess it was because he made the person I pretended to be genuine. He made it so I wasn't pretending anymore, and that I didn't have to force a smile, a laugh. He just made them come.

He stood in front of me, panting. “The dryers beeped during that last big scream, Ri-Ri, we've got to get them out.” I nodded and we went to do just that.

As I stared at the big pile of clothes I could run and jump in and not feel the ground, I turned back to John. “Do you want to just...take these back to the hotel and fold them?” I asked, not wanting to sit in the uncomfortable chairs to do that. He nodded, probably thinking the same thing I was. “We could also put in a movie.”

….

“How come all you've got in your movie stash is action while Elina has comedy, and Dalton has romance?” John asked, throwing DVD after DVD back onto the bed. I guess he didn't like the selection.

“What's wrong with that? We're a very dynamic group.” I defended.

“Nothing, it's just I've seen all of these a million times.” He motioned to the action and comedy.

“Then pick something from Dalton's pile.” I suggested.

“The only one I'd have any kind of interest in is A Walk To Remember.” He picked up the case, examining it. My throat closed over.

“No.” I choked out, bringing his attention to my face. I quickly masked the fright and pain.

“Why not?” He peered at me, as if he caught the look that I had hid, and was trying to see if it would resurface.

“I hate that movie.” I did, I really did. The way Jamie had accepted it, how she had that list of things she wanted to do. I had. I had a list too, I just didn't want to accept it that much. Doing the things on that list would mean that dying was imminent, that I had no choice.

Sure, I was choosing not to get treated again, but that didn't mean I couldn't hope to live out a long and normal life. Right? Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

“Aw, come on, Mandy Moore is hot.”

Of course he would only want to watch the movie because of that fact. I almost rolled my eyes and groaned in frustration.

“No, I will cry and you will not like it. When I cry over movies, I get cranky too.” I warned.

“Fine, do you want to go pick a movie from my selection?” He asked, putting the case back down. We went across the hall and into his room. Garret and Kennedy were still there, playing some kind of card game with a few of the techs.

Silently, I followed John and started shuffling through his movies. “Kick-Ass?” I asked, holding it up.

“Oh, man, that movie is great!” Kennedy put it.

“It looks completely ridiculous.” I sighed, tossing it back down. “How about we watch...”

I shifted through them again, not finding anything. “Well, this is more trouble than it's worth. Do you just want to watch cartoons on Nick?” I turned to John who had started a conversation with Garret.

His attention went back to me, and he debated. “Not really, to be honest.”

I groaned, falling back to the floor, arms spread wide. “Then what now, genius?”

“We still need to fold all the clothes...do you want to go to Blockbuster or something?” I stood back up and nodded.

“Sure...that works.” I shivered, finally noticing I hadn't put back on my hoodie.

“Here.” John handed me the one he had been wearing. “You look cold.” I took it from him hesitantly, but slipped it on quickly for the warmth. It smelled like him, too. I tried not to inhale too deeply in fear of looking like a freak.

At Blockbuster, we decided to get 'Die Hard' and 'Cop Out'. Both had Bruce Willis in it, who is one of my favorite actors, and I think maybe that's why John suggested them, he had found that out at the launder-o-mat.

As we sat down, we put in 'Die Hard' first. And by the time we were done, we were already halfway through 'Cop Out'.

I leaned against the headboard of the hotel bed, noticing how late it was getting. Ignoring the movie, I turned to John. “What's your favorite season?”

“I'd have to say winter.”

“Why?”

“I don't know...most times we're home for the holidays, and I get to spend it with my family...and that just makes me happy. Any other time it's always go, go, go. I just...get to slow it down and relax when I'm home for the holidays. Laugh at my grandma getting drunk on eggnog, coo at my sister and her boyfriend kiss under the mistletoe.” He sighed, getting a faraway look in his eyes.

“Winter is my least favorite.” I grimaced.

“Aw, why?” He asked. I couldn't mention that it was December 21 when I had been diagnosed with Breast Cancer, or the fact that the first surgery to try and remove the tumor in my left breast was the following month, January 5.

“It's too....” I didn't know what. I couldn't say 'cold'. I live in Arizona, it's never cold. I couldn't say 'cheery' because it would make me seem like a miserable snob. “It's too...hectic.”

That seemed like a good excuse. “Ah, I get what you mean.” He nodded, smiling. “And, most times for Christmas you get things you don't need, and would probably be left rotting in your closet.”

Leaving things behind.

John just reminded me why I shouldn't get close to him. I would have to leave him behind. Tears sprang into my eyes automatically.

Just like Jamie, again, I didn't want anyone to fall in love with me because eventually, I'd have to leave them behind.

“I'm tired, you should probably go so I can sleep, I didn't get much last night.” I yawned in a last ditch effort to make him believe that that was where my tears had come from. “Thanks, though, John. I had fun, I really did.” I followed him to the door.

“I did, too, Riles. Sleep tight.” He waved, closing the door behind him.

Once the door was shut, I let the tears fall, hoping no one was going to come in anytime soon. True to my word, I crawled into the roll away bed and went to sleep.

I was too late, I could already feel myself sinking deeper into John, I just had to make sure he wasn't the same way.