I Wanna Be Somebody

River
Falun, Sweden

A dull thud continued at the front of my skull as I sipped on my bottle of Gatorade. I was holed up on the couch of our bus, a blanket wrapped around me and a package of crackers beside me. My stomach roiled and I let out a deep breath to calm it, considering taking more Pepto-Bismol before I wandered far from the bathroom.

Avaa and Oblivion were no better, still in their bunks and time was reaching one in the afternoon. Avaa had ventured out twice to use the bathroom. The sounds of his retching made me more nauseous. Jess was the best of us four. I remember her helping Kris get me from the venue bathroom to our bus, which was no easy task since I nearly puked on all our shoes. When I was laying on the couch later in the morning, I heard Mark’s voice come inside the bus and when I briefly opened my eyes, I saw them leave. Otherwise, there’d been no action on the bus.

I contemplated texting Isaac to see how he was, but my gut told me to hold off. I just knew I’d done something wrong—again—last night. Isaac hardly got upset over anything, but I always managed to push the wrong buttons—and that made me think why? Why were we dating each other?

I liked having him in my life because he was always so positive, so happy. I remember when we first started dating, how warm he made me feel. Then, I looked at him now and realized my presence in his life had dimmed that glow. I was sucking the happiness from my boyfriend and when he—of all people—wasn’t happy, how could I be?

I was poison.

I fell to the side slowly, laying back down on the couch. My eyes burned when I actually took a moment to compare Isaac from then and now. A heavy cloud seemed to fall over him and I knew that weight was me. I wasn’t a happy person. A constant, internal ache resonated in my core and the only way to dull it was to play music. And when music couldn’t stop it, alcohol seemed a regular solution.

Then, Isaac Delahaye came along and he was always smiles and positive attitude and fun. He’d partied, but he did that less. He did everything less. Smiling, especially. When he looked at me, there was a sense of…I didn’t know what. Dread, pity, regret?

Did he think he was tied down to me forever? I hoped not. He could leave me at any time; if he was miserable, why did he stay? Maybe he thought it was for my sake. Did he think I was so unstable I couldn’t handle him breaking up with me?

I wasn’t that weak.

Perhaps, I was the one who had to make the step, the one to say enough. He was suffering and shouldn’t. He was such a pure soul. The flashes of smiley Isaac appeared behind my eyelids. Then, the Isaac I saw the night before. Dulled, muted, unhappy.

I’ll do it. I’ll break up with him. He deserves to be happy and I was making him just the opposite.

A tear leaked out from beneath my closed eyelids.

This was best.

Another tear.

But—if I was being honest—I couldn’t live without Isaac in my life. The thought of seeing him with another girl, the man that made me as close to happy as I could be, made that dull ache in my core flare angrily. A cold presence beside me, one that secretly hated me, was better than none.

I can’t be alone.

The door to the bus opened and a hand quickly dashed the tear away from the side of my face before hiding back under the blanket. Jess and Mark were talking quietly as they came back into the
bus and I feigned waking up.

“Hey,” I grumbled, my eyes barely cracking open in case they were bloodshot from withheld tears.

“Morning, Miss America,” Jess said, coming to stand beside the couch. “Need anything?”

I let out a short “no” and Jess went to check on the twins. I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair and becoming aware that I smelled of liquor, sweat, and vomit. My stomach churned and I put the blanket over my mouth and nose.

Mark smiled down at me. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Awful,” I said. “I don’t remember a majority of the night.”

“Isn’t that most nights for you?” he asked with a quirk of his brow.

I dropped the blanket to stick my tongue out at him. Mark’s smile returned.

I liked Mark a lot. He was a talented musician with an incredible mind. Above all, he was a good human being. Like Isaac, he radiated positivity and a smile was never far behind. He was quieter than Isaac though, but he smiled with the deepest level of sincerity.

I secretly shipped him and Jess.

They’d make a cute couple.

The blanket came up over my face to hide the self-satisfaction at my fantasy match making. Mark gave me a quizzical look and I wiggled my eyebrows at him, my eyes darting to the back of the bus. His quizzical expression turned to confusion, but I couldn’t make any more motions with my eyes because it made my headache grow.

“Never mind,” I said with a heavy sigh. “How’s your band holding up? You seem right as rain.”

Mark chuckled and crossed his arms. “You know how Yves can get. He was still in bed last I checked. Arien held up well though. I think Simone was in bed by eleven.”

I let out a short laugh as Jess came from bunk alley. “Yeah,” she said, throwing me a look as she opened the refrigerator. “Some people hold their alcohol better than others.” There was an edge to her voice and I wondered if one of the twins had puked in the back. “Mark, I’ll meet you outside.”

Epica’s maestro looked her, glanced at me, nodded and left.

“Everything…okay?” I asked. I knew Jess well enough to know what the slightly jutted-out hip and quirked eyebrow meant. I’d done an uh-oh last night. Probably. Most likely.

“I wasn’t going to say anything with Mark in here because it was awkward enough,” Jess said. “But you need to seriously watch yourself when you’re shitfaced, Riv.”

“Yeah, I kn—”

“Because you pissed your boyfriend off more than I’ve ever seen.”

That brought me up short. I stared at her and she looked at me back, as if she expected that would jog my memory. “What’d I do?”

“You don’t remember?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I did,” I quipped.

She set the water bottle on the counter and turned to me, hands on her hips. “You gave Jake a lap dance. A serious one that would make any stripper jealous.”

A feeling of pure dread made a whole new wave of nausea rise in the back of my throat. “Oh, god…”

“Yeah, and of course Jake went with it because he’s a stupid fuck. You’re lucky we were watching because when Isaac went for Jake, Mark stopped him.” I still didn’t say anything; I was afraid to open my mouth in the event I’d pull a Regan from The Exorcist and produce projectile vomit. “So that’s just an FYI because Isaac left pretty pissed off.”

“Oh, god…”

“Yeah, you better start praying to your god,” Jess said. “Because you and Isaac weren’t on great turf then, you’re definitely not now.”

“Thank you,” I snapped. “Thanks for letting me make an idiot out of myself!”

“Me?” Jess demanded and scoffed. “I’m not the one who did six shots of vodka and five of Jack to prove myself to Sabaton. I didn’t force all that down your throat. River, you need to take responsibility for your actions. If I was Isaac, I wouldn’t be real pleased eith—”

I stood up—too quickly since I almost fell over—and threw my blanket aside for dramatic effect. “Okay, I get it! Just go!”

Jess held out her arms in surrender and grabbed the water. “I’m just saying.”

“Whatever.”

“River, don’t be pissy with me because—”

I stomped over to the bathroom and slammed the flimsy door. Tygo would be pissed if I broke something else in the bus. I didn’t worry about it long because whatever I had ingested the night before finally came back up. I held my hair back and kept my head in the toilet until I was done dry heaving. Tears were running down my face and I wiped them away, trying to catch my breath.

A fucking lap dance.

River, you are the biggest fucking idiot on this damned planet.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered, getting to my feet. I grabbed a stray hairband and pulled my hair back so I could wash off my face. I flinched when I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked like death and not the cool Chuck Schuldiner kind either. My eye makeup gave the impression of a haggard raccoon. My face was sallow and sunken from dehydration and my hair was a greasy mess that made me feel even more disgusting.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I wiped haphazardly to get some more makeup off before peeling off my clothes from the night before and hopping into the shower. The water was lukewarm, but it did its job of waking me up. I stood there longer than needed, but thoughts had to be gathered back together to suppress pure, utter panic. I wanted to cry in embarrassment and disgust and helplessness. I couldn’t face Isaac now; I could hardly do it on a regular day, let alone knowing how furious he must be.

I needed advice. Again. Mac was a definite no on this subject. Chester (third cousin and, yes, the same Chester who sang for Linkin Park) would laugh in my face because he could never take anything seriously. This called for another best friend who wasn’t personally involved, like Jess.

I crawled out of the shower with my last shred of dignity and realized I hadn’t brought clothes into the bathroom with me. Swearing up another storm, I peeked my head out and looked around to find the bus still quiet. I crept into Bunk Alley and whispered loudly, “boys, don’t look. I’m naked.”

Avaa’s curtain flinched. “What?”

I held it shut and shrieked, “I said don’t look, mother fucker!”

“Jesus! Don’t scream! I didn’t hear you!”

I growled at him in the only Swedish insults I knew and rushed for the cupboards in the back of the bus that held our clothes. I grabbed a pair of my comfiest skinny jeans and a black tank top with a screaming Steven Tyler on the front. My bandmates were surprised I had clothing with another frontman on it besides Axl Rose.

I quickly put on my clothes and hurried back to the front of the bus to retrieve my phone—which had been generously plugged in for me the night before. I looked at the time. It was 2:15 in the afternoon in Falun and Anchorage was ten hours behind us...Ronnie would still be up.

Sure enough, I only held my breath for three rings before my childhood friend answered. “Tell me you picked up a sexy Finn and you’re bringing him home to me?”

“We’re in Sweden, Ron. Not Finland. That’s another couple weeks away.”

“Well, fuck,” Veronica muttered. “Why else are you calling—did you fucking rip that pair of jeans I decked out for you? I swear if you did—”

“Veronica, the pants are fine.”

“—I spent nearly ten hours on those jeans and they look hot and the only way they’re to get torn is if your boyfriend is tearing them off you—”

“For the love of god, Veronica, shut up and listen.”

“You called me by my full name twice. What’s wrong?”

I retold her what Jess had told me, how disgusting I felt, and what I had been thinking before that awful news was delivered.

“Riv, you didn’t mean to. If he cares about you, he should understand.”

I rolled my eyes are her carelessness. “The guys you pick might not care if you were grinding on some other guy, but mine does. I’d be insulted if he didn’t.” I rubbed at my temple where a headache was brewing again. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Sounds like you two need to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.” I opened my mouth, but Veronica was already ahead of me. “But I know that’s not easy for you. What do you need me to do?”

Good ol’ Ronnie. She would drop everything and fly to Sweden in a heartbeat if I asked her. Massive scarlet dreads and porcelain skin, Veronica and I had been best friends since fifth grade. Her parents were hippies and gave their daughter free reign to explore and express herself. She was just what young and destroyed me needed. She was colorful and full of life. Nothing stopped her from going and getting what she wanted. Ambitious and artistic, she opened her own store in Anchorage that specialized in alternative fashion that she mostly made herself.

It was thanks to her I knew Jess and had survived life thus far.

She offered little other advice, but it was good just to sit and talk to her again. I missed her dismissive, yet sharp sense of life. She let hardly anything bother her. Stress wasn’t in her vocabulary. She knew me too. Like she knew me and every side of my existence, even the ugliness that I hid from everyone else—even my own band members.

That didn’t count Jess. Jess knew just as much as Veronica. The only difference was she hadn’t actually been there. Veronica saw it all, held me when I cried in the night, tenderly placed an ice pack on a bruised eye, force fed me and kept the fingers from shoving themselves back down my throat, offered me my first joint. The first needle.

I owed her everything, including some of the internal demons she’d accidently added to my already writhing personal Hell.

When I hung up from her, I still didn’t know how I was going to face Isaac, but the sound of her voice brought back an itch below the crease in my elbow.