This Masterpiece Will Fall Apart

Being on the road with Zack was interesting to say the least. Like I had mentioned before, Zack loved being the centre of attention, but he never went over board with it. Airin was a little defensive when Zack started getting more attention, but over time he warmed up a little and really started liking Zack. Marque had a problem with giving up being the baby of the band. Zack was unaware of this going on. Everyone warmed up to Zack pretty quickly anyways, he was personable.

“Oh, my God! Yes! Saskatoon...” Marque said sarcastically.

“I enjoy Saskatoon,” Zack said.

“Well, you are used to being able to see for miles. I miss my mountains,” Marque stated.

“Newfoundland has mountains?” Zack actually questioned himself. He seemed to be thinking pretty hard.

“Stop thinking about Newfoundland, we have shit to do!” Keith said. He had gone into manager/business mode. It was scary how strict he got with us sometimes. Marque said something about being a crotchety old man. Keith agreed. It was hard to believe he was turning 31 in August.

“Yes master,” Zack said, dragging his gimped leg, sounding like an Igor creature.

“Oh hush you,” Keith waved him off and unlocked the trailer. I helped out, but Keith was refusing to let me pick up any amps since he found out I was pregnant. I looked at him straight in the eye, so at one point, I lifted one amps right up and held it for a few seconds. Zack just laughed at Keith's reaction, his mouth was hanging open in shock. I put the amp back down and motioned towards the amp.

“I've been carrying a kid around for 5 years. Can you pick that up?” I said. Keith was stunned, and just walked away from me. I smirked and picked up the amp again and walked it inside. The other boys, and Jason were setting up everything. Surviving Nightlife were already there walking around. I sat at the edge of the stage once everything was done , my legs swinging back an forth. I looked over at Airin and Marque. Marque seemed to be throwing a fit of some kind. Zack was standing fairly close to them, bringing in boxes for the merch table. He put the boxes down and walked over behind Marque. He picked up Marque by grabbing underneath his arms. Zack carried Marque over to a chair that was sitting in a corner.

“Now, you stay here until you learn to behave!” Zack said and walked away. Marque looked absolutely shocked. Marque stood up.

“He just...I...but...but...WHAT THE HELL?!” Marque exclaimed. “He's fucking scrawny as a twig and 5'5”! I'm 5'11” and slightly muscular! HOW DOES THIS WORK?!” Airin buckled over in laughter, then started coughing. I smiled widely at Marque, laughing at his facial expressions. I jumped off the stage and told Marque to follow me. I picked up the abandoned box Zack had left. “What are we doing?” He asked.

“We're going to finish bringing in these boxes,” I said. Zack had wandered off, which he often did. Marque and I unloaded the rest of the boxes, Marque taking 4 of them. He couldn't see where he was going when he got inside. When I set the boxes I was carrying, I looked at Marque. “Do you need help with those Marque?” I asked.

“No, I don't need help!” he sounded like Finley when I offered to help tie up his shoes. I stopped and put my hands on my hips. Marque tripped over his own feet, dropping all the boxes he was carrying. He looked at the boxes, then up at me, an innocent but embarrassed sort of look on his face.

“What did you learn?” I said.

“Nothing! Because I'm going to do it again!” Marque exclaimed. He picked up 2 boxes and kicked the other 2 over to the table. I shook my head at him and we both started to unpack the boxes. We got called over for the sound check, which went by pretty quickly. I was wandering around by myself back stage when I found Airin leaning over in a chair. I walked over to him and kneeled down next to him.

“Airin, are you alright?” I asked. He lifted his head slightly and looked at me. He was extremely pale, and he had beads of sweat sliding down his forehead. Airin shook his head. “What's wrong?”

“I don't know. I just feel very light-headed,” Airin told me.

“You better not play tonight. I'll get Curtis or Jason to fill in for you,” I said.

“No, I'm okay. We don't go on for a little while. If I go take a nap I'll be fine.”

“I don't want you to be risking your health though. We don't need you passing out in the middle of a set,” I said. Airin just shook his head at me. He was always a little bit of an idiot when it came to dealing with his health. He only went to the doctors is Marque forced him to go, which pretty much meant tying his hands and feet together and tossing him in the trunk of his car. Airin and dad were similar like that. They would refuse to go to the doctor until someone made them go.

“I'll be fine. Just let me have a little nap and I'll be good to go. I think I'm just stressing myself,” Airin said, waving me off. I stood up and walked away from him. I loved Airin dearly, but when he started being difficult, I couldn't handle him. And if I couldn't handle him, I would become stressed out, which I didn't want, because stress is what caused Finley's premature birth and my miscarriage.

I tried to keep my mind off of things until we went on stage. Airin looked better when we got on stage, but he was terribly scattered. His rhythm wasn't steady for a few songs and when he had to sing, it sounded scratchy, like he was fighting a cold. Airin wanted to help put everything away afterwards, but Keith noticed that he was looking pale (Airin was always bright red after a set) and sent him away to sleep in the van for a while. Airin didn't fight with Keith, he just went out to the van and slept.

I was at our merch table for a little while, before we had to completely shut down, hanging out with lingering fans. Marque leaned over to me at one point and said, “Have you noticed that Airin is looking a little sick lately?” I nodded at him, signing the umpteenth shirt of the night for someone. “Do you know what's wrong?”

“You know Airin, he refuses to tell anyone anything is wrong until something happens,” I shrugged. “I tried talking to him, but he told me he was fine and I had nothing to worry about.” I said to Marque. “Absolute bullshit if you ask me.”

“Why couldn't he of been more like you?” Marque asked after taking a picture with a group of girls.

“And how am I like?” I put my hands on my hips.

“Borderline hypochondriac,” Marque stated.

“I'm sorry that I worry about my families fucked up medical history!” I exclaimed at him. The Jaulby's never did have a great medical history. My grandfather had diabetes and a heart murmur. A great-uncle had frequent seizures and 3 second cousins has some form of cancer. That's why I was so health conscious.

“I'm not saying it's a bad thing Josline! I just mean I wish Airin was more like that,” Marque defended himself. “I really wish he wasn't so stubborn.”

“He's been like that since day one,” I told Marque once the last few fans had left. “He just denies anything is wrong with him.”

“He really shouldn't. It's not healthy,” Marque said, folding the shirts on the table. “I think on one of our days off, I'm going to drag him to a doctor.”

I snorted, “Good luck with that. You'll have to knock him unconscious or something to get him to go.”

“Nah, I'll just threaten him with no sex for a few weeks,” Marque winked at me. I slapped my hand against my forehead.

I woke up the morning after our Saskatoon show completely frozen and having to pee. I shivered as I got out of the bed and looked over at Airin's bed, who was no where to be seen. I put on my slippers and sweater and walked to the little bathroom. My hand hovered over the handle when I heard a cough. I realized it was Airin who was in there, so I knocked lightly. “Hey, Airin? Are you almost done?” I asked. There was no answer. I waited for a few more seconds before hearing a loud cough. Airin had been coughing a lot lately. That one sounded particularly painful. “Airin?” I opened the door just a crack. “Are you okay?” I peeked my head in. Airin was sitting on the edge of the tub, a box of tissue next to him, and the garbage can in front of him. He looked really pale too. I walked in and closed the door behind me. “What's going on? You've been coughing a lot lately. Are you sick?”

Airin shook his head, “I don't know if I am or...” he cut himself off to gab another tissue to cough into. The sound reminded me faintly of a whooping cough, but I knew it wasn't that. “...not.” I kneeled down next to him and put my hand on his knee. I just happened to see through my peripherals that there were bloodied up tissues in the garbage can. “I just have this annoying cough that wont go away. It's probably from straining my voice too much,” Airin said. He sounded hoarse. Extremely hoarse.

“Okay, explain the bloodied tissues in the rubbish then,” I said. “I really don't think those are all from a nosebleed.” Airin looked back and forth between me and the garbage can and me. He sighed in defeat.

“Okay, I've been coughing up blood for the past 10 minutes,” Airin said. “My voice is dying, my throat is dry and itchy, and I can't breathe.”

“Well, what have you been doing that would cause this? This has never happened on any other tour before,” I said.

“I have no clue. I think it might be pneumonia,” Airin said. I had no clue what the symptoms of pneumonia were. “It could just be a really bad cold too. I've coughed up blood from having a cold before.” That was true, he had.

“That's true, but we should probably take you to the hospital or something,” I said. Airin's head snapped up and his eyes shot daggers into mine.

“The next time I will be in a hospital is when I'm dead,” Airin said. He was extremely stubborn when it came to making doctors appointments or going in for check-ups. He didn't even like going into pharmacies. Airin coughed one last time before trying to stand up. His legs were shaky and he couldn't straighten his back. He was obviously in a lot of pain.

“Well, Airin, you're going to be dead if you don't get checked out!” I said in my motherly tone. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me. “I don't need to lose someone else extremely important to me.” Airin could sense the sadness in my voice. Airin wasn't very good with emotional confrontation, so he walked out of the bathroom. I pressed both of my hands against my head. “Stupid, stubborn git.”

Everyone loaded into the van, Zack behind the wheel, myself in the passengers seat. “Okay, did we leave anything, or anyone,” Zack shot a look at me which made me turn away sheepishly , “behind?” Marque counted every one.

“Nope, we're all here!” he chirped.

“Alright, let's go,” Zack said, turning the key. “Wait! Does anyone have to pee?”

“Come on Zack, you know we'll just piss on the side of the road,” Keith said.

“Well, what about Josline! She can't exactly whip her wing-dang-doodle out, because she doesn't have one!”

“Really? I would have never guessed,” Keith said sarcastically.

“Okay, can we stop talking about my non-existent dick and go? I went pee before I got in the van,” I said. Zack finally pulled out of the parking lot and we headed off to Regina.

A half an hour on the road, Marque chimed in, “Oh my God, can we just go back to B.C.?”

“Oh, my God, can you just go back to your mom's uterus?” Zack joked. Marque chuckled. “Besides, who doesn't like being able to see for miles and miles? I sure do!” Zack said sarcastically.

“This is no better than driving through bum-fuck-nowhere Ontario,” I added. Zack nodded in agreement with me. Airin laughed a little, and got caught up in a coughing fit. Marque rubbed his back lightly.

“Hey man, are you feeling okay? You've been sounding rough for a couple of weeks here.” Zack asked.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. My vocal cords are just strained. That's all,” Airin said. He still sounded pretty hoarse, but better from the morning.

“Do you want some cough medicine or something? I have them in my bag,” Jason piped up.

“No, that's okay. Thanks though,” Airin said. I slumped back in my seat. Airin was going to deny anything was wrong with him until he was dead.

We checked into our motel in Regina, and we headed over to the venue to do our sound check. It was early afternoon and we played at 8ish that night. I had noticed that Airin was looking a little pale when we were running through our set. Airin hadn't talked to anyone else about what was going on. I just wanted to smack him so badly.

“Okay, what's next again?” Marque asked, looking over at me. I looked down at the set list on the ground.

“Wait,” I said. Marque nodded and readjusted his strap on his bass. It was a slower song that Zack actually wrote. It was a beautiful song to be honest. I sat on my piano bench and started playing the song. Keith had his violin, which he was excited that he got to play it again, and started to play it. The drums, guitar and bass came in, and then I started singing.

I don't wake up every morning thinking
'Today will be my last day'.
I don't stand up to tell you it's okay
it's just another day
to finally wake up.

I can't feel brave when I...

I stopped when the drums stopped abruptly. I turned my head around to look at the drum kit. I stood up quickly, knocking the bench over. Airin was slumped over on the kit. I rushed over to him and fell to my knees. I felt this sense of fear rush over me. I didn't know what to do. Every one else had looked over by that time. I looked at the other band members, and they could see the fear in my eyes. I looked back at Airin, “Airin? Airin, please don't do this,” my voice shook. Airin was obviously passed out, and when I listened closely, it sounded like there was something blocking his airway. I looked back at every one else again. “We have to get him to a hospital,” I said. No one moved at first, “Now, please!”