Somewhere in Neverland

There’s a sameness to most of the days on tour. We’ve fallen into a routine of waking up, fucking around until we get to the venue, interviewing for a bit, fucking around in between the interviews and soundcheck, soundcheck, playing our sets, hanging out with fans, and then partying into the early morning hours before waking up and doing it all over again. It can’t be healthy, but we’ve all just sort of embraced it.

Today we’re playing in Detroit and I can already tell that it’s gonna be a good day. Unlike most other days, I didn’t wake up on a tour bus, but rather in a hotel room. And it wasn’t Alex next to me; it was Luke, Theo, and Ian.

Around 4:30 am last night, we got woken up from our uneasy sleep on the van by Ian and Roland who announced we were in Detroit and had gotten a hotel room. I was pissed off then about having to wake up and walk my ass up to the second floor, but it’s such a relief to wake up in a real bed, even if I had to share it with three other people.

“Can we get real breakfast today?” Theo asks as we haul our bags out of the room and down to the lobby to check out.

“Oh my god, breakfast sounds fantastic,” Samson’s voice is still full of sleep and his hair is adorably disheveled.

All Time Low and The Summer Set are already waiting in the lobby when we finally make it down. Bam hands the receptionist our room keys and she nods that we’re good to go.

“Breakfast?” Brian says, clearly reading everyone’s mind.

It’s the first day in the five days on tour that we’re up before 10 am, but we can attribute that to the hotel’s strict check-out guidelines.

“Yes!” Samson demands. “I want some pancakes, dammit!”

After packing our stuff into the van and using Siri to help find a pancake house, ironically called Pancake House, Matt calls to make a reservation for 26. Although a bit put off by the large group, they assure us they can accommodate and that the wait won't be too long.

We all pile into our 15 seater van and deal with the cramped quarters with the promise of a real breakfast in the near future.

“Guys, diabetes calls,” I announce suddenly, feeling light headed and dizzy.

“I swear to god, if you ruin breakfast for me by passing out, I will not administer your glucagon,” Sam announces loudly. “You fucking bitch.”

I don’t pass out, but I don’t recall most of breakfast or most of the morning, to be quite honest. If I didn’t know for a fact that alcohol didn’t play a part in anything this morning, I would have sworn I was blackout drunk. Luckily, by noon, my blood sugar has leveled off and becomes a little more compliant.

By one, I’m bored as fuck and ready to make bad decisions, so I challenge Zack to a kick flip contest in the parking lot outside the venue. Jess and the boys of The Summer Set have wandered off into the streets of Detroit, but for whatever reason, Bam won't let us explore with them.

“Deal,” Zack agrees to my offer and I dig through my bag to find my board.

It’s definitely been a while since I last skated, but I’m not too worried about it. I’ve been skating for seven years and have competed in minor skate competitions all over California.

We start off goofing around, doing easy tricks like ollies and kickflips before daring each other to hit bigger tricks.

“You skate goofy, too?” He asks after a few minutes of contemplating our next dares.

“Yeah,” I answer and he looks slightly confused. “I’m left handed!”

“Totally forgot that,” He shakes his head and laughs. “It’s been too long, Caroline.”

“Do a nollie hard flip off the steps,” I say out of the blue, finally finding something I deem challenging enough.

He looks at me for a minute before climbing the front steps of the venue and picks up enough to speed to successfully complete the trick.

“Your turn,” He says and I follow suit, performing the trick easily.

He shakes his head in disbelief, but offers me a smile as I thrust my fist into the air triumphantly.

“Alright, Tony Hawk, I wanna see a front side flip.”

Again, I prepare myself at the top of the stairs. “You’re gonna shit your pants when I do this, aren’t you?”

“If you actually hit it,” He says.

I take a deep breath and push off, giving myself enough speed to successfully land the trick on the sidewalk.

“Damn, girl!” Zack gives me a high five and I gladly accept it. “Maybe living in California did you some good!”

I shrug my shoulders and laugh. “Meh,”

“Caroline, cut that shit out,” Bam says, poking his head out the front doors. “You’re gonna wind up getting hurt.”

“I’m fine, Bam,” I demand and ignore his worries.

I regret it about five minutes later as Zack’s challenge of an inward heelflip proves to be a bit too much and I land roughly on my bare knees.

“Yep, I really fucked up,” I say immediately upon landing and feeling a sharp pain over the entirety of both knees.

Zack rushes over to help and assists me into a seated position. Both knees are totally fucked and bleeding profusely, but my right knee has a steady flow of blood gushing from a long cut across the front of my leg.

“Well, fuck, Caroline,” He says and I feel lightheaded all over again.

I’m not entirely sure how I got to the hospital, but when I come to, I’m surrounded by members of both Feral Amity and All Time Low and both my knees are bandaged tightly.

“What happened?” I ask, rubbing my eyes roughly.

Most of the group looks slightly amused, but Bam’s face shows no signs of humor. “You cut up both of your knees goofing off.”

Zack wears a proud smile and I know it’s because I attempted a hard trick that he didn’t think I’d go for, despite the rough ending.

“I hit it big, Zack,” I say, clearly still somewhat drugged out.

“You did,” He bumps his fist against mine and I pass out again.

--

“Seriously, how fucked up were they?” I ask over dinner.

Evidently, I wound up with over forty stitches in both knees and passed out twice in the process. The doctor said to take it easy for a few days, but I really don’t have that option seeing as we go onstage in less than two hours.

“They were pretty fucked up, not gonna lie,” Theo says through a bite of chicken. “I definitely instagramed that shit.”

“Wait, seriously? Let me see!”

He takes out his phone and turns it around so the screen is facing me. The gashes are pretty revolting and I debate whether or not it’s enough to make me pass out again.

“Alright, I really regret that.”

Bam enters the dressing room and eyes me carefully. He’s clearly still upset about earlier, but quite honestly, he can fuck off. If anything, the little trip to the emergency room added a spark of entertainment to the otherwise boring afternoon.

“You done fucking around yet, Cara?” He asks, grabbing a sub from the platter and sitting across from me at the table.

“My middle name is Danger for a reason,” I smirk, but he only rolls his eyes and bites into the sandwich.

Bam is very much a fatherly figure to the band. He’s 27 and on tour because he’s the only responsible sibling in the Feral Amity bunch. He agreed to go on tour with us only because we begged him and because he secretly loves us way more than he will ever, ever admit.

“I have a family I could be with,” He says. “I’m missing out on six weeks of my kids’ lives to be on tour with you guys. I want to have fun, trust me, but I don’t want to have to feel like I have to take care of nine other kids, too.”

“Fair enough. I’ll stop fucking around.”

“Thank you.”

I feel bad now; I knew Bam would miss his kids, but I didn’t know how much this would take a toll on him.

“Have you talked to them lately?” Theo asks after a few moments of silence has filled the room.

“I talked to Zoe the other day, but Micah and Willow are too little to understand why I’m not there,” He says. “I miss them so much, though.”

It’s unsettling to know that after only five days on the road, he’s already as homesick as he is. I know he’s trying his absolute best to have a good time, but it’s gotta be rough missing out on his kids’ lives.

“I love you guys’, though, so this shouldn’t be as big of a deal as it is. I just can’t help but think of all the things I’m missing out on back home.”

“You know that if it ever gets to be too much, no one is gonna judge you if you pack your bags and go home early, right? Roland can figure everything out and if need be, we can call in Noelle.”

He shakes his head and smiles. “I’m really trying here, guys. Don’t worry… yet.”

--

I’m definitely cursing our skating competition earlier as I stand stiffly on stage. My knees are on fire and the excessively tight bandages around both my knees make standing feel extremely awkward.

“Take a look at Caroline’s knees!” Samson announces into the microphone. “She had a minor accident earlier.”

“Yeah, fuck you, Sam,” I spit into the microphone and raise my middle finger carelessly.

“She’s a fucking champion,” Russell announces. “Don’t belittle her. She’s playing on drugs right now and still kicking ass.”

The boys laugh, but I bite my tongue, trying to hold back tears. Our set seems extra-long tonight and I can’t wait for the end of it. By the time the end of Riley’s Arrows blare through the speakers, I’m already exiting the stage and collapsing into Alex’s arms.

I’ve never been in so much pain in my entire life and it’s unrelenting. Alex helps me onto the couch in the dressing room and finds me bags of ice for my knees, lying down next to me and allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder.

“This is horseshit,” I say, knowing it’s going to be a long road to complete recovery.

Alex only laughs and nods his head. “You’re a champ, though. That was impressive out there.”

“Yeah, and how much did I look like I wanted to die?”

He contemplates it for a moment. “On a scale of one to ten, probably an eleven or twelve, but it’s alright.”

“Fuck my life.”

Alex brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes and kisses my forehead sweetly. I groan and bury my face into his neck, but know that soon enough he’ll need to get out on stage.

“Don’t leave me,” I demand quietly.

He shifts a bit and laughs. “I’m not gonna leave you. What makes you say that?”

“Don’t perform tonight,” I reiterate. “Stay here with me. Make Matt perform.”

“As amazing as that sounds, I can’t just put a stand-in out there for me.”

“I don’t know, he’s a pretty good looking guy. Maybe we can fool everyone into thinking he’s you.”

Speak of the devil.

“Matt Flyzik, did you know that your name is Alex Gaskarth and you get to perform tonight?” I ask, my voice full of playful undertones.

He shakes his head at my enthusiasm for the topic. “No way in hell.”

“But I need a cuddle buddy!” I pout.

“My god, Caroline, your vagina is showing!” He jokes.

During the entirety of our friendship, Matt has never really seen me as a girl. I mean, sure, he knows I have a vagina and everything, but I’ve just always marketed myself as a badass tomboy. I never used to let anybody know that I had feelings or that anything was wrong, let alone let anyone in close enough to know the real me. Matt is used to me building walls around myself to keep myself from getting hurt and this is the first time he’s seen me in an exceptionally vulnerable state.

“You can cuddle with any of your band mates, or better yet, make a new friend and cuddle with someone from The Summer Set!” He says, grabbing wires from a box and leaving quickly.

“He’s not a very pleasant soul.” I say matter-of-factly.

Alex laughs. “He’s a very wonderful soul, just very flustered right now.”

Alex and I cuddle until Flyzik drags him away and Ian is forced to be replacement. He doesn’t object and allows me to melt into his side almost immediately. We lay like that for some time before the rhythmic up and down motion of his chest allows me to fall into a deep sleep.