Watch You Take The Fall

When I woke up, it wasn’t with the feeling of anger that I expected it to be. Instead it was with a feeling of optimism, I had something to look forward to. And what was that something? Kicking Kate off the bus and back to Hades.
To the best of my knowledge, I was the only one awake as I sat at the front of the bus. My legs were tucked underneath me and I was snuggled into my Star Trek blanket, smiling into my cup of steaming coffee. I had a feeling that today was going to be one of unprecedented goodness, even if I was awake at half past 5. Throughout the duration of this tour and the madness that accompanied it, I had found that I actually quite enjoyed being awake in the early hours of the morning. It gave me a chance to sit in quiet for once, something that you could rarely ever do on a bus full of hooligans, and I could watch the scenery rush on by. It was an opportunity to either lose myself in my own thoughts or to block them out by the heavy pressure of silence, the only sounds being the occasional snore from the bunks behind me.
I threw the rest of my now lukewarm coffee down my throat before checking the notepad sat on the table in front of me. According to our notes, we didn’t roll into the venue until reasonably late today, meaning a lie in for those who needed the extra sleep to regain even a little of the energy they lost during just one night, which was, essentially, the entire crew and band. I sighed, leaning back into the sofa, content. Turning my head to survey the scene of peace (and mess, if no one else was going to tidy up their shit, you can be damn well sure that I’m not going to) my eye was caught by the case of a game thrown haphazardly onto the sofa, merely two cushions away from where I was huddled into my duvet. A thought struck me, and I struggled for a moment, finally producing the white plastic remote for the Wii, turning the console on before clicking it into the shockingly bright white wheel that came with the game. The Nintendo Wii hadn’t been released for long before, as a group, we decided to pitch in whatever money we had and buy ourselves a new console. All of us on this bus loved (and I mean loved) video games and a new addition to our collection was never going to go down badly.
I jigged around in my cocoon excitedly as the starting music played. I’d mastered the game since we’d had it, and few could beat me. Loading up my player’s profile, I chose to play as Yoshi and selected the best bike- one with slightly above average speed but kickass acceleration, brilliant for when the gits I call friends sabotage my winning streak. Now came the tricky part, deciding which Grand Prix to compete in. As all the professionals do, I shut my eyes and wildly pointed. I heard it select and opened my eyes again. Shit. I would chose the one with Rainbow fucking Road in it, wouldn’t I? Of all the tracks that I’d managed to dominate on, Rainbow Road was the one that slipped through my amazingly skilled hands. Still, I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge and I rolled my shoulders in determination. 3… 2… 1
I’m not proud of what followed, it wasn’t exactly a display of elegance or remotely ladylike (not that I ever claimed to be either of those things). At the point when Matt stumbled through into the lounge, apparently under the impression that someone was being brutally murdered, I was hunched over, turning the wheel frantically in a desperate attempt to control my character. Closely following Matt was Alex and Rian, Vinny behind them, crawling for some reason.
“God fucking damn it you little green bastard, it is not that difficult to stay on this piece of shit road for more than ten seconds at a time! No, don’t fall off, no, don’t you bloody dare or I will skin you and make you into a trashy handbag, do you think I’m fucking joking you plonker, get back up! NO, PEACH, YOU WHORE DON’T YOU DARE FIRE THAT RED SHELL WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU OH MY GOD THE AMOUNT OF TIMES I’VE SAVED YOUR OVERDRESSED ARSE FROM BOWSER AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?! Oh fucks sake, who used POW? Now we’re all fucked, I hope you’re happy you masochistic bastard, this is practically genoc- NO DON’T YOU DARE PASS THAT BLOODY BLACK CLOUD ONTO ME. DON’T. YOU. DARE. Oh, great, yeah, fall off, that’s going to fix everything. Fabulous, the race finished while you were pissing about. Twat.”
I threw the remote to my right, onto the soft cushioning of the sofa and batted away the finger that gently prodded my cheek, letting my face fall into a scowl as I crossed my arms in front of me, rather like a five year old would after being told to go to bed on a summers evening when it’s still bright daylight outside.
“Are you… Is that… Are you smiling?”
“What the tits is going on? Oh my god, one minute I’m enjoying a nice lie in, the next it seems Sierra’s aged backwards by 15 years. It is way too early for this Benjamin Button shit.”
“I lost.” I muttered, keeping up my façade of anger, before standing up and throwing my duvet off me backwards. I immediately regretted the decision as I remembered why I’d been huddled up in it in the first place. The air conditioning ripped over my skin and I shuddered so violently I almost fell backwards. Luckily, an arm shot out and wrapped around my shoulders to steady me. Almost instinctively, I curled into the body that the arm was connected to; the heat it provided was calling out to me. I buried my head into a skinny chest and shivered again. I peeked up through my overly long fringe to see the smirk of Rian from across the room. Matt was sat where I had just vacated and Vinny was lying face down on the floor, which could mean only one thing.
“S-sorry,” I stuttered, jerking backwards out of the arms which encircled me. I ruffled the back of my hair up as my gaze fixed on the floor beneath me.
“It’s no problem,” Alex chuckled, “Can I have a word once we’ve stopped. Maybe go on a walk?” All of this was said in a muted tone, I assume so the others now milling around the front area didn’t hear our newly formed plans. I nodded and smiled a little, before informing everyone that I was leaving to get dressed.
I changed from my pyjamas- checked bottoms and a Mickey Mouse tank top- into something more appropriate for the impending weather I’d face on my walk with Alex. As I stripped down and dressed again, I wondered about the nature of the walk. What could he want to talk to me about that meant we would have to leave the bus? I carried on wondering as I pulled all of my hair over to one side, exposing my shoulder left bare by my sweater. We hadn’t spoken since we pulled away from our hug (which lasted around half an hour, may I point out) last night. After we had done so, we awkwardly waved at each other and turned to our respective bunks. He wasn’t thrown out of his last night, which was a surprise, instead, Kate spent all night packing and then slept in the back lounge, locking the door so none of us could use it until she awoke for her flight.
I won’t lie, the hug was possibly the best of my life. It spoke volumes. More than the physical act of hugging, it said that maybe, just for once, there was someone there to hold me together when I couldn’t. I kind of never wanted it to end, not that you’d ever hear me admit that out loud.
The day passed in a quiet manner, we saw Kate off with glee. Well, I say we saw her off, really I mean we watched her throw all of her shit into a taxi (no one offered to help, of course) and leave, not before she flipped us all off and threw a variety of insults in my direction. It just so happened that where we stopped to get her off the bus was only ten minutes from the venue. Because of this, Alex decided we should go on our walk from where we stopped. Matt shut the door behind us, narrowing his eyes at Alex and hissing something about hurt under his breath.
“Don’t forget, Sie, get him back here fo-“
“I know, Flyzik, four. I got it. Don’t worry.”
“I can’t help but worry, Sie, it’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“I know, I know. This is my job, too, remember?” He didn’t reply, just nodded and smirked slightly at me, slamming the door as soon as we had stepped off the stairs at the bottom. Immediately, the cold air bit at exposed skin, turning the tip of my nose red, and Alex’s hands a similar colour.
“Where to, Gaskank?”
“I didn’t really plan it out.” He confessed, shuffling his feet.
“Just wander then?”
“Wandering’s good for the soul.” We didn’t talk until we reached the centre of a small park. It was mostly abandoned, apart from the few brave joggers and dog walkers that milled around. The small playground was empty, children’s laughter didn’t fill the air and the swings were stationary. Noticing this, I turned to face Alex with a small smile on my face, he matched it and we raced towards the swings. We were neck and neck until I, being the clumsy bugger I am, stumbled and tripped over a small mound of wood chips. I landed on the cushioned floor with a resounding thud and lay there, not caring that my face was probably getting stuck to the floor due to the frost coating. Suddenly, strong arms lifted me to my feet and I was presented with a face displaying a combination of worry and amusement.
“Shut up, “ I mumbled. Then, before he could blink, I jetted off to the swings, jumping onto one and somehow not overbalancing. The result was me standing tall on a flimsy child’s swing, fingers freezing thanks to the invention of fingerless gloves.
“Still beat you!” And with that I stuck my tongue out. He followed more quietly, and plonked himself down on the swing to the side of me.
“You’re in a good mood today. I don’t think I’ve seen you smile this much before 1pm for weeks.”
“It’s one of those days,” I replied with a shrug, “It’s one of those days where you can practically taste the change arriving. The last time it was one of those days, I lost Pat. Here’s hoping I get some good change today.” I slid down and sat on the swing, cross legged and leaning backwards onto one of the chains, allowing me to look at Alex as he focussed on his battered converse beneath him.
“Change can be good.”
We stayed in silence for a while. I shut my eyes and swayed from side to side, occasionally opening them to check if Alex was still there. It wasn’t awkward like I had expected it to be, no, it was a comfortable silence. It wasn’t one of two people who were struggling for words, it was one of two people who could discuss the whole world, but were simply leaving it for later. It had to end though, everything has to end.
“I’m guessing there was a reason to this walk, Gaskarth?” I’d unfortunately picked up on Flyzik’s habit of referring to everyone by their last names, although it did make it a little easier, what with a few people sharing names on this tour.
“I, uh, yeah. We haven’t really had a good catch up in a while and I guess I saw my opportunity and seized it.” More silence ensued, although this one was tinged with the bitter taste of awkwardness. I know he was lying, he had an ulterior motive. I just couldn’t work out what it was.
“So I’ve been thinking of leaving this tour.” And then he fell off the swing. I looked at him with one eyebrow raised as he flailed around on the cold floor.
“Why would you do that? Are you not happy? Did we do something? Is Flyzik getting on your nerves because I know how irritating he can be in large doses?” I’m sure he could have rambled on for hours if I hadn’t have interjected.
“A lot has changed on this tour. It sounds a little cheesy but with it changing, I changed myself. I got off Warped Tour and had no time to adjust to the fact that I’m now living in America as a full time tour manager to a group of people that I didn’t know until a few months ago. Add to that that my only family member committed suicide, and it all got a little overwhelming. I don’t know, I might leave touring for a while. Uproot myself and go somewhere new.
“Baltimore’s new to you, stay there. Plus, if you leave now, you’ll only have to deal with us crashing at your place doubly as hard when we get back.”
“Well that’s true, I didn’t think of that. You make good points sometimes Gaskarth, you know that?”
“It’s a talent.”
“I don’t think I could ever fully leave you guys now, though, you’ve become something of an anchor. This tour, though, has been the most stressful one I’ve ever been on, and it seems I have a talent of running away from my problems, and stress is a problem. I don’t know what’s keeping me here, on this specific tour anymore. It’s not like I still have my flat, so I can’t run home. I have nothing to stay for here, in England, on this tour.”
What happened next was something I’ve been forced to repeat many times to my friends, and Alex’s too. He leapt from his swing and turned sharply in front of mine. I had to gaze up at him to even catch a glimpse of his face, damn tall people. His hands locked onto the chains and stopped my swing from moving. He had no gloves on, so I’m sure his hands must have been freezing.
“You’re an amazing creature, you know that Sierra? I’ve known you for what, really is no time at all, although it feels like forever, and you’ve changed everyone you’ve come into contact with for the better. Flyzik isn’t as pissy, Zack isn’t as quiet, Jack isn’t so obnoxious now he has someone to by hyper with. But me? In you struggling to get over your brother’s death, you helped me come to terms with shit in my life that I should have sorted straight a long time ago. I can never thank you enough, or explain what you’ve done for us,” he whispered, getting lower and lower, so closer to my face, as he did so. Then he did the unexpected, he placed one freezing hand on the back of my head, searched my eyes for any objection (I was too paralysed by shock to make any movement, let alone stop him) and brought his lips to mine. The seemingly insignificant sparks I had felt when he held me in the restaurant bathroom and the butterflies that I’d tried to supress were at full force. Screw sparks, it was like a bloody electrical fire, and the butterflies felt like elephants. It all made sense, though. Everything. As I lost myself in that kiss, I couldn’t be sure of many things. Whether he felt the same as I did, whether he was simply trying to get over Kate, whether he was going to pull away and realise he made a massive mistake. No, there wasn’t much I could be sure of, but there was one thing. The way he held me, the way he kissed me, the way he treated me, he was my anchor and he was the reason to stick around. Everything melted away apart from that one vital element, a reason.
And then he muttered something that would affirm my decisions and settle the why’s and what if’s that fluttered about in the back of my head.
“Stay, if for nothing else, stay for me.”

6 MONTHS LATER

“I can’t do this, Flyzik, I really really can’t.”
“Yes you can, and you will.”
“No I can’t, I’ll bugger it up and everyone will notice and laugh and hate me and oh my god is it nearly time for me to go on already, Flyzik I just can’t!”
“Look, Sierra, what happened to the cool, can’t be fussed hardass you were a few weeks ago? You can do this, and you will. You’ll do it for yourself and you’ll do it for the band.”
It shouldn’t have been anything major, just a small acoustic in a local Maryland record shop to promote the ever growing All Time Low. A simple set list, one of only a few songs, a couple off the new record, an old favourite and a cover of Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus. Nothing overly dramatic. The problem, though, was Remembering Sunday. It was growing to be a staple of every acoustic show All Time Low did, no surprise as it was the one acoustic song from So Wrong It’s Right, not to mention it’s a brilliant song. No, the problem we had was that Izzy, my friend I had introduced to All Time Low after I threw coffee over her in Starbucks (she hit it off with Jack, but that’s a whole other story) was supposed to be singing the girl’s part of the song. Then she rang me this morning, crying because she had food poisoning and couldn’t leave the house. I’d calmed her down and assured her it was no big deal, that we’d sort something out. Then I made the mistake of telling my dick of a boyfriend, who demanded that I sing it, after Rian spilled the beans that he’d heard me sing and thought I was pretty damn amazing (his words, not mine).
Now I was stood side stage, bouncing on the balls of my feet, microphone grasped firmly in my hand. Just as I was about to turn to Flyzik to argue with him again, the moron pushed me onto the makeshift stage beside Alex, who turned to me with an adorable smirk that practically turned me to mush.
“Well,” I thought to myself “I’m here now. They’ll hate me even more if I don’t sing.” So I raised the microphone to my lips, and attempted to sing.
I’m not coming back, I’ve done something so terrible
I’m terrified to speak but you’d expect that from me
I’m mixed up, I’ll be blunt;
Now the rain is just washing you out of my hair, and out of my mind
Keeping an eye on the world, from so many thousands of feet off the ground
I’m over you now I’m at home in the clouds
Towering over your head
I let my last note ring out, harmonising with Alex’s stunning vocals for the closing lines of the song. It was only when the song finished that I realised how badly I was shaking. I was like a leaf in an earthquake, trembling head to toe. It’s a shock I actually managed to stand up straight.
That’s when I noticed. The kids, they didn’t throw things at me. I did it, and I didn’t get bottled or boo’ed off. I had to admit, the feeling was exhilarating. I could understand more now why my friends got the kick out of performing that they did. To do this every night and to have your own lyrics sung back at you by hundreds of adoring fans? I can’t even imagine the rush it must provide.
There was a tug at my hand, and I felt myself be led off stage by Alex, who must have said goodbye while I was in my daze. I was pulled over to a stack of boxes where I shook myself out of it and smiled up at him, delighted to see him return it, hopefully meaning I didn’t mess it up too badly.
“You. Were. Amazing!” He exclaimed, even picking me up a little bit, “Why didn’t you tell me you could sing?”
“It never came up,” I shrugged, still elated.
“What did I do to deserve you?” He mumbled, pressing soft kisses to my face.
I’d found it. Possibly the one I was supposed to be with for the rest of my life, if such a thing existed, but more than that, a family, a reason to stay. Amongst the hustle and bustle of our friends, crew members and band members, I felt at home. More so than I had done since the ending of my home life in England with my family. This was it, this was where I was supposed to be, and what I was supposed to be doing. I was supposed to be sticking around, staying, and you can be sure that that will forever be my intention.