Something Else

It's amazing how little you know about a person. I had been friends with Kennedy for the majority of my life, but after two whole weeks on tour I found out things I never really wanted to know about him. My bunk was right across from his, which meant, every time he made a weird noise in his sleep, I heard it. He also has a tendency of leaving things in the middle of the hall. I can't count on my fingers how many times I've slipped on his empty ice tea bottles. Kennedy also likes to confuse my bunk as his own. I wouldn't have a problem with this if it weren't for the drool I always find on my pillow the next day.

The rest of the bus was pretty decent though. Of course, I did have similar experiences with the other lads. Jared snored louder than anyone I'd ever heard, and Matt was always talking my ear off. Sure, John got well pissed every night and Pat got a little excited all the time, but the boys were good people overall and had made my tour experience pretty brilliant so far. I'd gotten to know some good traits of the lads as well. Garrett became someone I found myself relying on. Pat knew how to make me smile. Max was great for touring advice. Vito had been showing me the ropes of managing the merch booth every night, and I was definitely getting the hang of it.

"Can I have the white shirt in a small?"

"Sure thing," I said, turning to pull it out of the bin.

The girl had her money waiting when I turned around. We traded, and then she dropped a note into our tip box. I thanked her and she smiled and then moved on. The next person stepped up and told me what they wanted. Vito said he really liked having me in the booth with him because I was so quick. It kept the line relatively short, even during the rush after the show ended, like now.

"Hi Keagan!" the next person in line said.

I stood still and quiet for a moment. The girl in front of me looked about eighteen, and she was pulling her money out of her back pocket. I was a bit stunned that she knew my name, and I wondered how she did. Fans knew Vito because he'd been with the boys for so long, but I'd only been on tour with them for two weeks. How dedicated are these fans that they know the new chicks name that quickly? I thought. That sentence answered itself. I was the new girl on tour. I was smart enough to know that even boys like The Maine were subject of gossip, and any girl seen with them was automatically assumed to be romantically involved with one of them. Of course, not everyone was so nosey, but if you were a fan, you would have come across the gossip eventually.

As I made sense of the situation in my mind, the girl in front of me asked for a poster. Slowly, I nodded and then made my way to the other side of the table where the posters were and rolled one up for her. I saw Vito give me a strange look as I accepted the girl's money and handed her the poster.

"That was a bit odd," I said offhandedly to him as the next person in line stepped up to the booth.

"Bound to happen sooner or later," Vito responded. "You'll get used to it eventually."

I nodded and then turned back to grab the hoodie the fan in front of me had asked for. No one seemed to recognize me for the rest of the night, or at least, no one knew my name. I was still a bit weirded out by the whole scenario, though. Vito didn't seem to be taking me seriously when I tried to bring it up again, so I decided to wait until I could talk to Kennedy about it.

After the show, as the crew was loading stuff into the trailer, I was searching for a sign of the band, who had all disappeared from the green room before I could get there. I shouldn't have been so shocked to find them on the side of the venue, talking to fans, but I didn't know them as well back then. They'd been a band while I was away. I'd only known John and Kenney as the two lanky boys that I called my friends. I decided to hang back and leave the boys in their element. I knew that their fans meant everything to them, and I didn't want to intrude on the little personal time they had with them.

I walked past the crowd gathered on the corner and down the alley towards the busses. I meant to wait there until the boys were ready to come back, but someone spotted me.

"K! Wait up a minute!"

I turned to find John jogging down the alley to catch up with me. A small group of fans were staring down the alley at us. I felt uncomfortable under their gaze and turned my back to them as I waited for John to make his way to me.

"I thought you'd be out there a bit longer," I said, once John's footsteps were at my side.

"Normally, I would," he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "But it's just too cold tonight, and I'm exhausted."

I nodded and glanced at John for a moment. His grey scarf was wrapped around his neck tightly, and his head was covered by a matching beanie. I saw the ends of his golden hair sticking out from underneath. John caught me looking, but turned away again to smile to himself. His breath was appearing as clouds of smoke in front of him, as was mine. The image made a craving erupt inside me.

I dug around in my pockets as John and I continued towards the bus, but found them empty. I had left my fags on the table in the booth, and I wished Vito had realized and picked them up for me. John was looking at me curiously the entire time I was searching.

"Forgot my cigarettes," I clarified, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Oh, well, hold on."

John stopped walking, so I paused as well. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. They weren't my favorite but I could manage. I smiled at John thankfully as he held the pack out to me. I slid out a fag with my left hand and pulled out my lighter with my right. I lit up quickly, because it was too cold to even think about standing outside the bus longer than necessary.

"Cheers," I mumbled to John.

"Yeah," he said, looking at me strangely. "It's still really weird seeing you smoke."

"Why? You obviously have the same habit."

"It's not that I'm judging you. It's just, you know, you're not quite the same Keagan I knew in high school."

"Well, so far, you've proven yourself exactly the same Johno you were in high school. Well, maybe a little less of a tool."

John laughed as I took a drag from my ciggy. We'd finally reached the bus, but I couldn't go inside with my fag. It was a common courtesy towards the non-smoking members of the tour.
John lingered outside with me, but he didn't light up. I was a social smoker, so it felt a bit odd to be standing there with a fag while john just smiled.

"Speaking of," I said, a lost thought coming back to me. "I meant to thank you for sticking up for me a few weeks ago. I can handle Austin on my own just fine, but it's nice to know you're still looking out for me."

"What are friends for?"

And friends we were. For the next few weeks, John and I found ourselves conversing more than we ever did in high school. John said that New York had changed me into a person that he could get along with, but I suspected differently. School had definitely affected me in many ways, but I thought it was my new open mind that let me really get to know John.

He'd grown more than I would have expected. He wasn't that tool that left for ASU with every intention of drinking immense amounts of alcohol and partying for the majority of his time. He'd become more passionate about the band than ever before, and he'd learnt that all those frat boys were nothing compared to the guys back in Tempe. His tastes had improved. He listened to better music, he dated better girls, he didn’t dress like an arsehole anymore, he'd finally gotten a bloody haircut. I think that the biggest change I'd noticed in John was his new found chivalry. As long as he wasn't pissed, John knew how to treat a lady. He'd stood up for me every single time he caught Gibbs hitting on me, despite me telling him not to. As much I liked this better version of John, I was unaware of the demons lurking inside him. All it took was one night of excessive drinking for our new routine to begin.