We'll Tell The Saddest Story Of How We Made It Through This Past Year.

It was five days into the tour and despite my initial hesitations, things were going a lot better than I'd anticipated. The crowds had been more than ready to accept Forever The Sickest Kids as our main opening act, and I had to admit that they brought the much needed 'get pumped' kick that got the kids more than stoked for us. The fall tour was less of a serious tour, with the only 'deeper' song being Therapy. We'd decided to take a different direction and it was paying off.

I couldn't help but notice a slight strain aboard the tour bus, though. None of the guys were used to having kids on the bus with us. There were toys crammed everywhere, wake ups at random hours of the morning, and babysitting duty. Not to mention the lack of alcohol. More and more, I found my crew memebers aboard the other buses. Even Jack spent a lot more time with the other bands, particularly FTSK. I knew that he was disappointed with the lack of alone time, because even when we weren't dealing with the girls, there were 101 things to be done - at the same damn time.

This crisp fall morning found us in Sacramento, with an interview fixed for 11 with a local radio station. I was up earlier than usual after crashing early the night before - typical tour behavior. Sleep late for a week, and then crash early and be up with the birds. Today was the first off day of the tour, too, and I was looking forward to finally (hopefully) having some alone time with Jack.

Tours were typically hectic, but with the added two children, it was virtually impossible to be involved in any romantic indiscretions.

Right now, the girls were engrossed in some pointless cartoon on TV, and Caleb and Kyle were making them breakfast, having crashed with us last night because their band mates weren't quite burnt out and were still partying hard.

My notebook was sitting beside my hair straightener, and pens and post it notes were scattered all around. A song had been nagging me for a while and it was proving to be more difficult to master than my hair.

Sammie chose that moment to come over and jump into my lap. She buried her face into my bare shoulders and kissed them. I flung her over my shoulder, her little legs kicking, and carted her around the room.

"Did someone order a sack of potatoes?" I asked, tickling the bottoms of her feet and offering her to Caleb and Kyle. "Careful, she's heavy," I warned as I pretended to drop her into Kyle's arms.

Kyle staggered backwards. "I think you just broke my back, Sammers." He dropped to his knees in exaggeration and pretended to cry. Sammie immediately went over to him and patted his back. Kyle jumped up at her, and she squealed and flung herself into my arms.

"Save me Daddy, save me." Her pitchy voice begged me. "Evil Kyle, Kyle's evil." She buried her face in my chest, and then turned around and stuck her tongue out in Kyle's direction.

We were so engrossed in our play that neither of us had noticed Gabby slipping off the couch and wandering over to us. She was small and slight and made virtually no sound.
Sammie noticed her sister standing beside us and pointed at her. "Wanna play too, Gabby?" she offered sweetly, holding her hand out to the shy child. Until then, Gabby had been content to sit back and watch our antics. She never talked, to us men anyway, but I'd heard her whisper a few words to Sammie now and again.

So it was with incredibilty that my breath caught as Gabby held out her tiny hand, not to Sammie, not to me, but to Kyle, and said, clear as day - "Play with me."

Kyle stood frozen in shock for a minute, and Gabby's confidence wavered. She turned and fled down the narrow hallway. Sammie looked at us with wide eyes for a few seconds and then hightailed it after her sister.

I turned to Kyle. Frustration poured through into my voice. "Why did you freeze? Why didn't you take her hand? God damn it, do you have any idea HOW LONG I've been waiting for this? It's been two fucking weeks and the poor girl's been scared of anything, everything, and her own shadow. And now she turned to you, TO YOU, and you hesistated? WHY DID YOU HESISTATE?" The last few sentences came out in a mere whisper and tears of frustration trickled down my cheeks.

Kyle pulled me into his arms and held me there for a few seconds. "Lex, it's okay. It's still improvement. We'll get there. You can do it, Alex. You and Jack are ... amazing together. You can do anything."

I heard the slight longing in Kyle's voice but never thought anything of it. I was too wrapped up in my own problems. "You can't know that, Ky. She probably hates me. I was there. Why did she go to you? You're not special."

I felt Kyle stiffen, and I realized how accusatory and hurtful my voice sounded. I went limp against him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. It's just so frustrating, you know, to work so long and hard for something, and then to have it handed to someone else like your efforts weren't worth a thing at all? Like you stopped mattering because the other person was there and was able to give something you obviously couldn't?" My voice broke again and my throat thickened. I'd never felt more like a failure than I had in that very moment.

Kyle didn't say anything for a moment, he just held me. And then he pulled away and looked me in the eye. "I know exactly what you mean, Alex. But the important part is to never stop fighting until you take your last breath, and even then, kick some ass down under." While his words were joking, his eyes were somber and his voice flat and almost bitter.

I sank into a chair and motioned for him to do the same. "Thanks, Ky. I'm sorry. I ... I'm just messed up these days. Nothing's going right."

He sat down next to me and leaned onto the table. "Talk about if you want, I'm listening."

I sighed. "It's just, you know, so many changes to take in. Kids on tour. Being with Jack after all the trouble we had. Being back on tour after almost 6 months off. I feel like we maybe should have waited until the next tour to take on the girls - the crew is finding it hard enough to adjust. I'm worried they might resent all of the changes, you know?"

Kyle looked kind of guilty, and I prompted him. "Do you know something about this?"

He looked down at the table and mumbled, "Don't hate me." He took a breath and continued. "A few people think you're going to have to choose between having a family and having a career on the road. They're worried what that choice might cost you and the band."

So there it was. My worries confirmed. My fears thrown out in front of me, forcing me to acknowledge them instead of cowering like I usually did. It took me a few minutes to find my voice, instead finding avid interest in the magnets on the fridge.

When I finally spoke, my argument was weak. "Lots of band members have kids."

Kyle's voice was gentle. "One parent is a band member, Lex, not both. The other one is usually home with the kids."

He had me there. I dropped my head into my hands. "It's not like they're always going to be on tour with us - I mean, Sammie starts school next year and will have to be at home with my parents."

"And you'll see her, what, once every two weeks, once a month, when you're touring? What kind of life is that?"

"Better than life in a foster home or being beaten and raped!" I snapped, my eyes flashing as they latched onto Kyle's. "Better than starving to death or living in a cockroach invested apartment or sharing a bed with six other kids in a foster family who's only in it for the money!"

Kyle's hands went up in a gesture of peace. "I'm on your side, Alex. I'm just voicing the questions that everyone's been wondering - probably yourself included."

Was I that transparent? I closed my eyes and breathed out heavily. "I can make this work. We can do shorter tours with shorter breaks, instead of three month tours with a month off. We can tour a month and have two weeks off. The girls can be with us on weekends. I'd fly home on off days. We'd have summers. It'd work." My voice was pleading. I was trying to convince myself as much as him.

"And if you ever did decide to stop touring - would you expect Jack to do the same? Or ... if he wanted to quit, what would you do?"

My head reeled at the thought of being anywhere without Jack. "I'd want to be with him, no matter what."

Kyle smiled sadly at me. "That's what everyone's afraid of. If you and Jack leave, there's nothing left of All Time Low."

I tried joking. "What are Rian and Zack, chopped liver?"

"Rian and Zack are great people, and amazing muscians, Alex. But you and I both know that a band's not the same when it loses even just one member - imagine losing two members."

"Why are you so dead set on thinking that I can't make this work? You people are so pessimistic."

Kyle met my eye. "Maybe you can, Alex. I just want you to know what's going on in other people's heads. You seem dead set on doing this own your own. Have you ever thought about talking to your band and crew about this? Maybe they'd be a lot less judgemental and a lot more supportive if they knew what was going on in your head. I'd bet my next dollar that you haven't even talked to Jack about this. You need to let people in."

I squirmed uncomfortably. "It's hard. I wouldn't even know where to start."

He got up and started walking to the door. Halfway there, he looked back at me. "Start by talking to Jack. If you're not comfortable enough to talk to him about your future, maybe you should rethink some things."

And then he was gone.