Eclat

“Chri-is! Chris-to-fer! Hey, wake up, you lazy bum.”

I estimate that it’s past noon when I wake up. The rude awakening wasn’t as severe as I noticed breakfast on the table. There was a plate, piled high with pancakes, a porcelain cup with syrup, utensils, and a glass of juice beside it. This is not happening. The first week of tour and they’re already trying to prank me? Interesting. I stretched my sore limbs, standing up to fold the blankets and not focus on the food. The latter was impossible to do, so I simply gave up trying to resist temptation and turned towards the table.

“Are you ignoring me already? Gee, thanks. You buy someone breakfast and all of a sudden you’re unimportant to them. . .”

I gave Ellie a big bear hug, her complaints muffled as her face nestled into my shoulder. “You really need a filter for your vocal cords. No joke.” I laughed as she took the fork on the table, using a knife to cut a piece of pancake for herself. She popped it in her mouth and shrugged.

“But how much fun would that be? A filter would eliminate all the amazing shit I say. Oops, was I supposed to censor that word?” She rolled her eyes, stealing another bit of pancake. “Well, are you going to eat? The food is getting cold. And we have to go buy groceries.”

I was halfway done eating when the door to the tour bus slammed shut. Ellie had taken a shower and was dressed already; she was sitting beside me, tying her shoelaces. It dawned on me that I hadn’t seen Dahlia all morning---well afternoon---and I patted the extra space next to me. “Hello, Doll. Did you have breakfast? I’ll share some with you.” I wasn’t entirely sure if I imagined Ellie’s sharp intake of breath.

Dahlia shook her head. “No, it’s alright, Chris. Go ahead and finish your breakfast. I already had some oatmeal. Ellie mentioned that we’re going grocery shopping right? I mean, it’s one of our ‘free days,’ minus the autograph signing at three today.” She’d also reminded me of that event, which was at a mall the label had picked. I finished eating and went to the bathroom, turning around as I felt someone’s hand touch my arm lightly.

“Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something in private,” Dahlia apologized, her hand returning to her side as if I had burned her. She looked anxious and slightly embarrassed; I saw a sliver of her white teeth as she bit her lip. “Do you love her?” Her voice cracked at the word ‘love,’ as if the word were foreign, or worse, condemned. She fidgeted with the frayed ends of her denim shorts and concentrated on the door behind me.

I was desperately trying to avoid the oncoming freight train that awaited me. “I love both of you. Always and forever,” I said hastily, reaching over to squeeze her hand before closing the door halfway shut. “I’ll be out in fifteen.”

Even with the door closed, I heard her whisper: “You know that’s not what I meant. You can only run away for so long before you pass out from overexertion. Then the truth will be difficult to hide.”