Dark Blue

Garrett

The first week of tour was always the best and the hardest. Everything was so new and nerve wracking, just like when we started out. The separation from our homes and families was unfamiliar and painful right at the start. At the same time, we were so full of energy and the crowds were just surreal.

Which is why after every single show, I used to call Sage to tell her all about it. It would be a lie to say Sage and I weren't close. In many ways, I was closer to her than anyone else in my family. Maybe even closer to her than anyone else in the world. She was all of the good parts of my parents, my brother, and me brought into one beautiful, incredible person.

When I was on stage feeding from the audience's energy and really in my element, I had completely forgotten about everything. For those glorious hours, I was happy. But as soon as I remembered, I felt like shit for it.

Sage's voice mail had jolted me back into my new reality. A reality without my baby sister and my best friend. While listening to her laughing over the recording, it seemed so impossible that someone so vibrant could just be gone now.

It was all I could think about that night as I stared up at the bunk above mine. The still air of the bus was filled with the unintentional and unconscious ruckus of the other guys. Pat mumbled nonsense in his sleep; John rolled around like there were fire ants in his sheets; Jared snored and Kennedy was bound to fall off of his bunk at at least one point during the tour. It happened once at least every tour.

I struggled to get out of bed without waking anyone else up. I was in a sort of trance as I walked lightly through the bus, toward the kitchen. I pulled out a blue plastic bowl and set it neatly on the counter before rummaging through the cupboards for some cereal. I tried my best to be quiet, and mainly succeeded aside from nearly dropping the milk when I was trying to put it back in the mini fridge.

I took a few bites as I made my way to the lounge area. The whole bus was silent aside from the sound of the tires against pavement. It was almost eerie to be walking around this late at night. I shook it off quickly, shoving another bite of cereal into my mouth.

The lounge room was littered with empty cans, video game controllers, crumpled up paper, and multiple other miscellaneous items. It looked like a tornado had ripped right through our tour bus, yet somehow, it was comforting to me. It was a miracle I didn't trip, though.

I plopped onto the armchair, balancing my bowl in my lap as I grabbed the remote off an end table. The bright, florescent light filled up a majority of the room and cast a blue tint over almost everything. I took a bite of the sugary cereal, settling on reruns of old cartoons.

A little while later, a noise somewhere behind the couch startled me, and I nearly ended up with a lap full of Lucky Charms. I turned so fast I nearly got whiplash, only to groan and curse under my breath when I saw who it was.

"God, Pat, really. You're going to give me a heart attack," I muttered, turning back to the television.

"Nah, don't be such a drama queen," he shot back with a grin before sitting down on the couch right next to me.

His hair was a tangled mess and the way the TV light was flickering off of his features made his nose look very disproportional to the rest of his face. I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched him. My annoyance faded almost immediately.

"What are you doing, Patrick?" I asked, and he immediately winced and turned his full attention to me.

"Must you use the whole first name? I mean, what did I ever do to you?"

"Hey, I didn't name you bro. Your moth-"

"Don't you talk about my mother! She's a very nice lady."

I shook my head, trying to stop the laughs bubbling in my throat. Man, the kid was something else.

"Pat, why are you up? You were sleeping just a couple of minutes ago."

"No I wasn't."

"Yes you were. You were talking in your sleep again! I heard you. And you only do that when you're out."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you are all crazy? I do not talk in my sleep."

I gave him a serious look. Still, he didn't waver in his defense. So I repeated my question. "What are you doing?"

"I could be asking you the same thing, man."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. Pat was impossible. He hadn't even attempted to answer my question yet. Sometimes, I just wanted to slap him, but just to knock some sense into him. Is that so wrong?

"I couldn't sleep. Still on high from the show, I guess," I said lamely.

He was the one staring me down now. I squirmed a bit, taking another spoonful of cereal to distract myself from his gaze. He scratched his head as his lips pursed.

"You're a terrible liar Gare; always have been," he pointed out gently.

"I know," I sighed.

"The guys... All of us... I'm worried about you, bro," Pat admitted, and I hung my head.

"I'm fine," I said, but it sounded weak, even to me.

"Look, I know you don't really feel like talking about it right now, and definitely not to any of us, but you should talk to someone, eventually."

I nodded my head, balancing the bowl on my lap so I could rub my eyes. Pat didn't say a word while I processed. I honestly had no idea what to say or think. Everything was starting to catch up to me, even in my escape.

"Thanks. I know you guys are trying to look out for me, and I appreciate it. I just need the tour right now, and I need to keep my mind off of it. I just can't deal with it yet, ya know?" I explained quietly. I looked up at him through my hair, my eyes pleading with him to just drop it, or understand.

"You have to do things in your own time, on your own terms. Just know we're all here for you."

"Thank you." It was quiet for a few moments as we watched the animations run across the screen. "I am talking to someone, just so you know."

I don't know what possessed me to reveal it to him. Maybe I just wanted to give them some piece of mind. Maybe it was just me trying to assure him that I was going to be okay. But man, sometimes I wish I just kept my mouth shut.

"That's great," he said genuinely. "Like, a therapist?"

"Not exactly. Just another person. Someone who's going through the same thing," I said vaguely. Pat's attention immediately perked.

"Really? Who?"

I cursed myself, quickly shoveling some food into my mouth in a poor attempt to avoid the question. I should've known better, I mean, Pat has been one of my best friends for a long time. He was not letting me out of the question, and certainly not that easily.

"No one you know," I muttered out quickly.

"Is it a girl?"

"You should go back to bed, Pat."

"It is a girl! You're blushing! Your face is more red than Jared's hair!"

"I' m done talking about this Patrick."

"Yeah, but I'm not!"

I groaned, taking another bite. I was in for a long, long tour.