Even Lovers Drown

Blake lounged in her bunk, stretched out to the best of her ability in the cramped space. Peppermint encompassed her, from her sheets, from her pajamas, from herself. She doused everything she owned in the scent just so she wouldn't gag on the distinct smell of sweat and the light fragrance of cigarettes. An ex-smoker and she was still sure she would get lung cancer from the secondhand smoke at some of their shows.

The loud voices of her band mates drifted from the living room to the bunk area. Adrenaline pumped through their veins, the performance-high that accompanied even the worst of shows not yet settled. They would have a videogame marathon, complete with drinking and loaded pizzas, until they tired out. They would have fun, celebrating the performance the only way they could on the bus, laugh, and even Andy might join in.

Blake should have been with them. She never missed out on video game marathons that accompanied shows, finding too much entertainment in watching her friends play and heckling them to early character deaths. Tour nights were the nights she enjoyed the most, better than nights at home. Hanging out with her friends tended to be more fun than sleeping with a new woman every night.

But she wasn't in the mood for watching extensive video gaming, wasn't in the mood to disrupt their gamer mindsets, wasn't in the mood to dodge flying cans of beer and pizza crusts while trying to breath through her laughter. She wanted to be alone, if only for a little while. Thinking things through around her friends without them noticing was difficult. The moment she lost herself in thought while backstage before the show, they started asking questions, expressing their concerns. Because, even though they picked on each other, they were family.

Despite their closeness, she couldn't tell them the reason for her drift into thoughts. Telling them she was thinking about her feelings would get her enough teasing, but telling them she was trying to figure out how she felt about Saylor, well, that would open up a whirlpool of mockery. She loved her friends and she understood that teasing was how they tended to show their affection. This was just different. Making fun of her while she was trying to make an important revelation, one she was basing off the little experience she had in high school, wouldn't help. And they wouldn't believe she was serious. The whole situation would seem as farfetched to them as it did to her.

She was figuring out if what she felt for Saylor was worthy of being deemed a "crush." That was how she interpreted Davy's question. "More" was something more than just sex, whether long-term or short-term, and couldn't be something as strong as love. "More" was a "crush" that demanded to blossom into a relationship. Was that what Blake wanted?

Groaning, Blake kneaded her forehead. How was she supposed to know? She had nothing to base the situation off of other than the failed attempt at a relationship in high school, and the circumstances then were different. That girl she tried to win over was more like the groupies she slept with, which may have been the very reason she liked her. If she had been a little more confident and not so ready to throw around money for her, Blake would have had her as easily as she got groupies after performances. Because it was all in the attitude.

Saylor, on the other hand, was just confusing. She knew she found Saylor attractive. That much was obvious. The loose clothing Saylor wore didn't deter the fact that she was a beautiful woman. They only made Blake more eager to find out what hid underneath. But if that eagerness was driven by Blake liking her, she didn't know.

And Saylor was making getting to know her difficult. Anything Blake did, Saylor didn't like. Confident and slightly aggressive, Blake was denied. Acting more like the old Blake, she was still denied. She couldn't get the opportunity to talk to her for long periods of time. All she really knew was that Saylor was Davy's sister, she was twenty-four, she was one of the merch workers, and she didn't like caramel-filled chocolate.

So why couldn't she stop imagining what a relationship with Saylor would be like? Davy's question sparked the thoughts in her head. Fabricated images of their future relationship, like cuddling with Saylor on the couch or starting a cake batter food fight while trying to make an anniversary cake, were getting in the way of thinking. But they continued to flash in her head and disrupt her thoughts.

"Hey, you okay?" Reese asked.

Blake jumped and stared up at him with wide eyes. Concerned hazel eyes stared back, probing for an answer. Reese caught her thinking about Saylor. Again. She should have closed her bunk curtain, she knew she should have. That was the only way to get a small bit of privacy. But she hadn't been expecting anyone to walk by. Not when a videogame marathon was in full swing.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Blake lied. Looking for a way to deter the conversation away from herself, she asked, "Why are you back here?"

"I have to read Grayson his bedtime story, and tell Emily how I feel about the centerpieces she sent pictures of."

Emily, his adoring fiancé, and Grayson, his adorable three-year-old son. Perfect distractions to keep Reese from pushing into her thoughts. With Reese's wedding fast approaching and trying to figure how to give his son the perfect fourth birthday while he was on tour, Blake had more than enough to keep him from weaseling his way into her head.

"You're the groom. All you're supposed to do is show up. Don't get in the way of Emily's dream wedding," Blake joked.

"She asked for my opinion," Reese retaliated.

"She doesn't really care. Just tell her it's perfect and give her your credit card."

"The number one rule of being the groom: shut up and pay up," he sighed. "At least I know I won't be bankrupt by the end of this."

"That's because she doesn't need you to shell out money to know that you love her. She loves you, not your money."

The small ceremony of strictly close friends and family was Emily's idea, not an idea planted by Reese to avoid spending money. To express their love for each, to become Mr. and Mrs. Edwards, in front of the people who knew them and supported them meant more to Emily than a big wedding.

The fairytale wedding dress, however, was nonnegotiable, and Emily bought that on her own.

"She doesn't like the fame too much either. If the photographer leaks our wedding photos, she will make him eat his eyeballs for breakfast."

Blake laughed, imagining his petite fiancé attacking a man likely twice her size. "Emily's vicious. Better watch out when you give her your opinions."

"Planning on it."

"Well, you should go make that call before Grayson falls asleep. He needs his daddy to read him a bedtime story."

And Blake needed him gone so she could think, work her way through things before the next day. She didn't want to be so obviously lost in thought while with her friends.

"He'll find a way to break his bedtime." Reese paused, eyeing Blake. "Are you sure you're okay? You've been a little distant since warm-up and we're all worried."

So her distraction techniques hadn't worked enough to keep him from asking again. One more promise that she was fine would get him off her back.

But how far would she get with Saylor without asking for advice? And who better to ask than Reese? Sage may have been her best friend for years, but Reese had been like Blake till he settled down with Emily.

Blake pushed herself to a seated position, careful not to hit her head on the supports of the bunk above her. "Can I ask you something?"

Smiling, Reese perched on the edge of the bunk. "Go ahead."

She took a deep breath, running through ways to ask without bringing Saylor's name into the conversation. The less her question gave away her situation, the better. But she wanted to get proper advice.

"How did you know you wanted be with Emily?" Blake asked, "How did you know you actually liked her and didn't just want to sleep with her?"

"Why?"

"I'm curious."

"You're just curious?"

Blake shrugged, as nonchalant as she could. "Yeah."

He stared at her, one eyebrow raised. She could see the disbelief in his eyes. The question about his relationship hadn't been derived from curiosity and he knew. Blake wasn't planning on caving under his stare, though.

Finally, he said, "It was her laugh."

"Her laugh?"

Possibly the most anticlimactic answer Reese could give her. No intricate story about how she knocked him off his feet with a single look or some witty phrase or how he knew she was the one when he ran into her cart at the supermarket, nothing that Blake could use to figure out her own feelings.

"She has the cutest laugh."

"That's it?" Blake asked, "You liked her laugh and decided you wanted to date her."

"No, her laugh is what drew me in."

A cute laugh drew him in. There were plenty of things that drew Blake to women but she didn't think those things made a suitable potential partner. Her standards weren't that high, and apparently, neither were Reese's if a cute laugh was all it took.

"Nice breasts and skimpy clothing draw me in. Does that mean I should date all the groupies I sleep with?"

"That's not what I mean." Shaking his head, he sighed and mumbled to himself, "How do I explain this to you?"

"It can't be that hard for you to tell me why you decided to take a chance on Emily," Blake pushed.

"It shouldn't be, should it? But I don't know what to tell you, Blake." He shrugged. "She was the first woman to catch my attention fully-clothed. The way her face lit up when she laughed was just so... I don't know. Gorgeous, adorable. I didn't look at her body first, I was too entranced by her face and that laugh. So I got her number instead of asking her for meaningless sex, got to know her, and eventually asked her out because I really liked what I knew about her."

"So, you're saying that if I notice her body first, I shouldn't take a chance."

Saylor's curves hadn't technically been the first thing she noticed. Blake had done a quick once over of her body, brushed over her hair first, was hit by green eyes, and then noticed her breasts. But she wasn't sure that technicality counted.

"We're different, Blake. What works for one person, doesn't always work for the other. Some people jump into relationships, some need time to realize that's what they want. I can tell you right now, though, Blake, you need to be careful. The women you mess around with will only love your money and fame."

"I haven't slept with her," Blake said.

She cursed the slip mentally. She wasn't supposed to give him anything that would provide any hints as to who she was thinking about. He wasn't even supposed to find out that she was thinking about a specific person. The questions were meant to be vague, just enough for her to get information. And she sufficiently ruined that plan.

Reese blinked, thrown off by Blake's statement. "You haven't slept with her, and she has you thinking about dating her?"

"Not in the beginning, but now... Maybe. I don’t know. Once I get to know her a little, I guess."

"Well, then, I think you have your answer."