Even Lovers Drown

Davy twisted to face her, resting his arm over the back of the seat. His movements were sluggish. Pink dotted his cheek, a similar pattern to the seams of the armrest, and his hair resembled a dirty blonde, angry badger. He hadn't been awake for much longer than Saylor.

"We're early, so we're stopping to eat," he said, voice tinged with recently broken sleep. He turned back to the merch girls. "You guys do know how to park, right?"

"I've had my license since I was sixteen. Of course I know how to park," the one in the driver seat said.

"We're all going to die," he said, dramatic as he could in his sluggish state, and draped his body over the back of his seat.

"Wait," Saylor said, cutting into Davy's dramatics. He raised his head to look at her. "We're eating here, not picking up food?"

"That's what I said."

The small flame of anxiety grew, filling her veins and forcing her heartbeat to rise. She would have to eat in front of people, something that shouldn't have bothered her and hadn't in awhile. But Katie's smooth alto harped in her ear. Porky, fat, disgusting, comments that made Saylor go into a starvation diet. No one would love her if she wasn't thin, and Katie loved her enough to tell her that.

Saylor shook her head. Katie didn't love her. She hurt her, killed her spirit and made her life miserable. A year away from her had helped her eat properly again, and a dream had managed to raise the anxiety she worked so hard to defeat. But Saylor wouldn't hide herself away in the darkest corner of the van over a dream. She couldn't allow herself to. It was just a dream, a memory. That wasn't her life anymore. Her family, the people she turned to for affection, would love her no matter what she looked like. And Katie wasn't there to tell her not to eat, that she was gaining weight in areas she shouldn't.

Saylor took a deep breath to ease the anxiety, staring out the window. The car slowly pulled into a parking spot, and she could barely hear Davy over the loud music insisting the girls refrain from scratching the paint of imaginary cars. She smiled, knowing he was simply messing with the merch girls and that his antics would help her anxiety disappear.

A glimpse of Blake's blonde hair amongst the slowly growing crowd in the parking lot made Saylor's smile drop and her anxiety spike. She hadn't seen her since she told her to get lost. Even during the concert, Saylor hadn't paid any attention to her. The band and screaming crowd had been background noise to Saylor's thoughts. And, now, after word of Blake's rejection had time to spread, Saylor would be eating in front of her.

She couldn't eat in front of her. Blake was too much like Katie. Davy could protect her all he wanted, stick up for Blake's reputation and try to talk some sense into Saylor, but she wouldn't be able to stop comparing Blake to Katie. Irrational as it was, she couldn't help it.

"Saylor?" Davy's voice jolted her from her thoughts.

Saylor's eyes darted to the now-open van door. Davy stood outside, the upper half of his body leaning into the van so he could see her, his hands rested on the outside to keep stable. The angry badger on his head had yet to be tamed and his posture appeared sluggish. She doubted she had been sitting in the van long enough for anyone besides her brother to notice.

"You okay?" he asked.

He knew the answer, could see it across her face. She was sure he could read her anxiety quicker than he could read a sentence. He didn't need to ask her if she was okay to figure out how she was feeling. Asking was a technicality, a way to gauge whether or not she would be okay enough to go into the fast food place, a way to see if she wanted to sit outside and talk instead.

"I need some deodorant," Saylor replied.

She wouldn't tell Davy she was still comparing Blake and Katie. Davy couldn't see the similarities the same way Saylor could and he wouldn't understand. The dream, the cause of her morning anxiety spark, was an entirely different issue. She wouldn't talk about it, didn't want to have to talk through the problem first thing in the morning. It was trivial, unimportant. In a matter of hours, she would be able to eat without anxiety again. Hopefully.

This wasn't something Davy needed to worry about. Food anxiety had been worked through with the help of her therapist when she and Katie ended their relationship. She expected the sporadic reappearance of the anxiety. A strong enough memory could throw off a great deal of the progress she had made. She knew that telling Davy would cause him to watch her eating habits far closer than necessary and would make matters worse.

His worried frown cracked into a smile. "By the time we get to a shower, you're going to smell a hell of a lot worse."

"Lovely."

Sweat was sticking to her skin. Tomorrow, sweat would be sticking to the sweat on her skin. The cycle would continue until she wouldn't be able to stand being in a room with herself because she smelled so terrible. Deodorant and perfumes would only do so much to cover the stench. Within days, she was sure no fan would approach the merch table.

"Don't worry, you're not the only one who'll reek. Blake wears car fresheners around her neck when using the sink to clean isn't enough."

"That's not reassuring."

She couldn't fathom how hard going days without a shower would be for workers who did more physical labor than she did. Fans wouldn't be able to approach anyone, not even the band.

The other workers probably didn't mind the stench. They knew what to expect from tour and were used to the tax on their hygiene. Sarah and Jenny seemed to be coping well, too. Saylor may have been the only one who cared. This wasn't a life she was prepared for and she would have to deal with it.

And what Blake did and didn't wear to keep fresh was none of Saylor's business. How Davy thought adding that tidbit of information would help baffled her. Though she had to admit the car freshener wasn't a terrible idea. She didn't know how well it worked, but she wasn't above trying it.

Davy pouted and tapped his chin. "Yeah, I guess it's not." The mock-thoughtful expression dropped, replaced with a large, dazzling smile, one that exposed the dimple in his right cheek. "But there is an egg and cheese biscuit and a side of hash browns in there with your name on them, so let's go."

"I'm going to get fat," she grumbled.

Fast food for every meal would add to her already unacceptable weight, according to Katie's standards. Saylor didn't necessarily want to get bigger. She wanted to be what Katie wanted, wanted to see her on the street and make her regret what she did. And if Katie had changed over the year, Saylor needed to be what Katie wanted, so they could fix their broken relationship.

But Saylor was supposed to move on and grow as a person, not stay someone's submissive lapdog. She and Katie were finished for her own good. The bond to Katie was still there, sealed into Saylor by memories and scars, and she felt nothing would ever break her want for Katie. It would pass, though. Her therapist told her so, and Saylor trusted her therapist to help guide her through her healing process.

"You, gain weight?" Davy snorted. "Yeah, right. It's going to take more than a couple egg and cheese biscuits to put meat on you. Speaking of." He held out his hand for her. "The biscuit's waiting for you eat it. Don't you feel bad for making it wait?"

"I'm sure the biscuits only aspiration in life is for me to eat it." Saylor grabbed his offered hand, climbed out of the van, and let go once she was safe on the pavement.

"It is," he insisted, draping an arm over her shoulder and leading her across the parking lot. "The hash browns on the other hand, they want to move to Vegas and become showgirls."

Saylor giggled. This was good. Light and distracting, what she needed more than talking about real problems. Thinking about hash brown showgirls was more fun. Hopefully, Davy kept the comments that way throughout breakfast. She needed something to keep her mind off of what Katie would say to her if she saw her eating fast food and to ignore the possibility that Blake could make the same comments.

"So, my food's already been ordered?" Saylor asked.

"Yep, I sent Sarah and Jenny in there with our orders. There should be two steaming trays of food at our table."

"I bet they got you the wrong drink."

"Not happening. I specified orange soda three times."

"Their favorite band is in there. I doubt they're thinking about your orange soda."

"My orange soda is the only thing they should be thinking about," Davy grumbled and opened to door, allowing Saylor to walk into the building first and following after her.

Easy smile on her lips, Saylor looked around the dining area of the fast food restaurant, searching for their seats. Tour workers seemed to fill every space, their conversations loud in the small room. She caught sight of the two teenage merch workers at a booth that seated the members of Say Goodbye. Two seat were available on the outside of the booth, Saylor and Davy's food taking up the table space in front of them.

Saylor blanched, realizing who her food had been placed next to. She didn't mind sitting with the members of Say Goodbye, she didn't. But her egg and cheese biscuit with a side of hash browns sat almost mockingly next to Blake Andrews.