Tonight's Our Night

I really fucking hate school. Seriously, everything about it makes me want to tear my own arms off just so I have something to beat people with. Nothing good happens there. It’s all about the expectations that put pressure on you, the people that hate you for no reason. There’s just nothing good for me there. The work piles up and buries you, the day drags and every day is the same.
Needless to say, I was more than ecstatic as I pulled Sam by the arm from the hellhole, towards the car that Joe had kept running. I threw myself into the back seat, not caring about the drinks cans I crushed underneath me.
“Excited?” Joe asked, arching an eyebrow in my direction.
“More than you could ever know.” I confirmed, and it was true. As much as touring was a bitch, it was continually the best part of my life. You can’t properly describe the adrenaline rush that comes from having the words you spent so long writing, being sung back at you. It’s difficult to explain, but there’s something so fantastically unique about every moment spent on stage, each so different from the last. I’d say that getting to play music made my world revolve, but in all honesty, music in general served that purpose.
“Let’s get this mother fucker on the road!” Hollered Sam, backing out of the car park of my school. Passing teachers frowned as a few students laughed at his outlandish behaviour. Students streamed from doors as the piercing bell sounded. I was taken out of school early, just before lunch break, we had a flight to catch.
We didn’t stop for long once we reached the house. Our bags were packed in our rooms, ready to be piled into the car. Guitars and basses sat stacked by the door, pointing towards the trailer they would be hauled into once we left. The drums would be picked up once we reached America, way too bulky to fly with. It only took us half an hour or so to stuff the van and trailer to bursting point, and to make sure all the bills were covered for the next few months. I ran around frantically after Ethan told me that he borrowed my laptop charger once I’d packed it, only to find he was being a twat, and hadn’t actually taken it.
I had the same amount of bags as everyone else. Unfortunately, I had to sacrifice a few sets of clothes to fit all of my work into my duffel bags, but it wouldn’t be fair if I was the one that made the whole trip more expensive by taking more shit with me.
Finally, everything was packed. We were meeting Chris, our tour manager, at the airport, so it was only the five of us and Rosanna driving in the van. She would bid us farewell, cry a little at Joe leaving, and then kindly drive the van back to the house. It really and truly sucked that she couldn’t come; I was the only girl on this tour, again.
The parents were all gathered around the van when we stepped out of the house, locking it behind us. They were all examining the various sharpie scrawled signatures and messages, and the occasional phone number that had been left. It was a piece of art.
“Savannah!” Yelled a few adult voices. I chuckled and headed over to the gaggle of parents, hands stuffed into my hoodie pockets.
“Oh we will miss you dear, I don’t know how we’ll cope!”
“I’ll miss you all too, especially you.” I laughed as I picked up Ethan’s little sister who was tugging on my jeans.
“You’re gone for so long this time.”
“I know, I think it’s the longest we’ll have been out of the country.” I smiled, proud of what we managed to achieve.
I stayed chatting with the band’s parents for a while, before drifting over to the van as the band said their personal goodbyes. I scuffed my converse along the pavement, trying to keep my mind off the thoughts that plagued me, and my eyes off the loving scene in front of me. The mothers were crying, while the fathers were exchanging awkward hugs and pats on the back with my band mates. I cracked open the door to the van, and used it to climb onto the roof, lying back on the sturdy metal. I stared up at the overcast sky above me, the wispy clouds moving slowly across. I sighed quietly, tuning out the chatter that floated up to me. I could have fallen asleep if Rosanna didn’t poke my side and tell me that we needed to get driving. I nodded, and swung down into the van, waving goodbye to the parents that came to see us off as we drove away.
“Mother fucking tour mother fuckers!”
“D’you think you’ve said mother fucker enough today, Sam?”
“Mother fucking no!”
*
“Right, give me your passports.” Our heads snapped up as we saw Chris looming over us, a dangerous look on his face. We’d been throwing our belongings at each other for the past half an hour. It turned out that we arrived at the airport way too early.
“Give me your passports now.” He growled. I yelped and threw it lightly into his outstretched hands, four more following mine.
“You alright, Chris?” He was never usually this snappy with us, however much we deserved it.
“Yeah, sorry, this tour’s been hell to organise and co-ordinate. I’m just stressed, I guess.” We all made quiet noises of sympathy, and I patted his leg gently from where I sat. I hauled myself to my feet, checking the time on my phone as I rose. Half an hour left until we had to board.
“I’m going to go and get something to drink. I’ll be back in a minute.” I said brightly, trying to distract myself from the prospect of the plane ride that lay ahead of us. I checked around to see if anyone else wanted anything, and took off towards the shops that lay ahead.
I stood, gazing around the walls of WH Smiths for a few minutes before I picked up what I wanted. The cool metal of the Monster can chilled my hand, but it wasn’t too bad. I settled on a packet of Skittles before I wandered over to the counter, surprisingly at the front of the queue. I dug around in my pocket before producing a few pounds and handing them over to the cashier. He gave me an odd look as he took it from me, opening his mouth to ask me something.
“Sorry, are you Savannah Rye? Singer of When Darkness Falters?”
“That’d be me.” I replied brightly, grinning at him.
“My daughter’s a huge fan, she never stops talking about your band or your music.” He smiled, clearly happy he’d managed to recognise me. I always look different on posters and photo-shoot pictures than I do in real life.
“That’s amazing! Can I sign something for her?” He fumbled for a minute before handing me a sharpie and a small notebook from under the desk. I uncapped the sharpie with a pop, and scrawled my messy signature on the paper. I wrote out a small message alongside it, and handed it back to the cashier.
“I have to rush, I’m sorry, my flight’s about to board. It was lovely meeting you though, tell your daughter I say hi, yeah?”
“Not a problem. Thank you so much, it was great to meet you too!” I grabbed my purchases and hurried from the shop back towards the motley bunch of idiots that made up my band, grinning like a fool.
“Why are you so happy?” Chris asked as I cracked open my drink and ripped my Skittle packet up.
“The cashier’s daughter’s a big fan, I signed some stuff for her.” It’ll never fail to surprise me when any of us get recognised as part of the band. It all feels so alien, especially seeing as we haven’t been around for the longest time.
“That’s sweet. Anyway, drink up, we’re boarding in twenty.” I nodded, and began drinking. It always took me forever to drink anything, for no particular reason. I was just a slow person, I guess.
Twenty minutes later and we were hauling ourselves and our hand luggage up the steps and onto the airplane that would be taking us across to America, on tour with Asking Alexandria and then onto Warped Tour, a whole summer with some of our favourite bands and best friends. The plane was taking us to a whole new level of what we ever thought we could be. None of us ever even came close to imagining that this could happen for our band. We were just a group of people, thrown together by a happy coincidence and then solidified by a horrific accident. None of this was ever in reach a few years ago.
*
I spent the entire flight to Virginia bouncing in my seat. I didn’t sleep the entire time, even though it was probably a good idea. My headphones stayed on almost the complete duration of the flight, due to the fact that everyone else slept the flight away. My head was filled with the sounds of Pierce The Veil, Bring Me The Horizon, Asking Alexandria, A Day To Remember, Chelsea Grin, Young Guns. So many bands. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to, all I could concentrate on were the thoughts that swarmed around my brain
The past three years had been the biggest rollercoaster imaginable. Indescribable highs and sickening lows. Betrayal, death, friendship, illness, travelling, writing, recording, burning reviews, amazing reviews, harsh critics, over analysing journalists, interviews, we’d been through it all and had come out the other side as a tighter knit unit than we’d ever been before. The thing is, the tours we were about to embark on were the biggest we’d ever been a part of. The tension would run high, no doubt almost to breaking point. I’d like to think that we’d make it out as one piece, but the truth of the matter is, that that doesn’t always happen. We were a mismatched group, a patchwork rug, if you will. The seams were strong but the differences were clear. It always worked, but I couldn’t help but shake the feeling that one day we’d fall apart. I hoped and prayed and wished more than anything else in the world that the day would never come. The band, the crew, the fans, they were my family. I would be nothing without them. It was as simple as that. They picked me up when I fell, and they were always at every defining moment and high with me. They were more than just people I knew, more than just friends, more than just family. They were my life.
*
We limped off the plane, our legs dead from sitting down for so long. We winced as we hit the bright light of the sun beating down on the ground below us, none of us used to the weather. We cleared customs with no problems, passport control was a breeze. The real problems came when we had to collect our things. Picture this, four men-children, one hyper-organised control freak and a bumbling teenager, all crowding round a small conveyor belt. That added up to about eight suitcases, eight guitar cases and a hell of a lot of chaos. My suitcase rolled around first, I grabbed it off and heaved it one of the luggage trollies we had claimed, before turning back to the conveyor belt. Three of the guitar cases came around next, and I took two, recognising from the stickers that it was one of Joe’s basses. I laid it next to the trolley with the suitcase on it and settled down to keep guard over our belongings. Slowly, more and more cases piled up around me, as if a castle was being built around me. Soon enough, I was encased in a circle of our stuff, sat cross-legged inside of it.
“You alright down there?” Kyle laughed, peering down at me.
“I’m brilliant.” Just then, a loud chorus of laughing broke us from our conversation.
“What’s going on?” I demanded to know, struggling to stand up from my perch. Kyle broke out the flipcam, (we had two between the band and crew) and hit record. I eventually hauled myself to my feet, just in time to see Sam hunched over on the conveyor belt, laughing manically as everyone in the vicinity stopped and stared. Chris face-palmed, and leapt to pull him from it.
Soon enough, we gathered everyone together and left the airport. I followed slowly behind everyone else, still absorbed in my own thoughts. It wasn’t that I had doubts, so much, I just had moments where some things seem unclear to the point where I feel like I’m going insane. I over think things, I guess you could say. As I was thinking to myself, I didn’t notice that everyone else had stopped walking, leading me to collide directly with Chris’ back. Dazed slightly, I shook myself out of it, and stepped beside everyone else, into a line. In front of us stood a black beast of a tour bus, our name plastered in white across the side. Our crew stood leaning against it.
“Holy shit.” Sam breathed quietly. We all nodded in agreement. We’d never had a bus before, we’d always toured in the same little van that we’d been forced to leave at home in England. A bus was a huge thing, both literally and metaphorically.
“Surprise?” Chris said, meekly, as if expecting us to be mad at him for not telling us. I jumped on his back, mustering up all the energy I could. I ruffled his hair and set my head on his shoulder.
“Thank you Chris, seriously, this is fucking brilliant.” He simply nodded, and gauged everyone else’s reactions.
“You ready to go then guys? We have a tour to be on.” He smirked.
“Onwards my trusty steed!” I yelled, still on his back, pointing towards our bus and crew who watched us with amusement.
America, here we come.