Warped Vision

I opened the notification feeling pretty carefree about the whole thing, but my vision became clouded and my breath sped up at the sight of what had actually been posted. It wasn't like it was my worst nightmare or anything, but it was still something that no one wants to ever have to see. And yet here it was, for the whole world to know.

I put my hand over my mouth, feeling like I would puke any second if I didn't stop looking at it. But it was like a car crash at the side of the road. I just could not look away. I had to keep staring at it, keep analyzing it.

After a while, though, I knew it wouldn't be good to continue looking. I was near passing out now and I just wanted to sob right there. But I refused to let Alan see me cry. I couldn't control the first time he saw me all shitfaced and in tears, but I could control it this time, and I intended to.

I didn't even make an effort to read what Justin had texted me and threw my phone as far as I could in the small area of the bus. Standing, I still felt like I needed to throw up. I really couldn't control my tears, but I could control my feet. So I ran as fast as I could to the back room and began rummaging through my stuff. There was no way I hadn't packed one – just for safety.

I smiled at the sight of the small purple box once I finally found it. It had been so long since I had used a razor – through everything that had happened that summer, it didn't feel like I needed to. But now...right at this moment...I needed it. I didn't care anymore.

How could I have been so stupid? To believe that I could be important to anyone. To be more than just an object that they could just throw away if I didn't meet their demands.

I couldn't stop thinking about it and wondering where I had gone wrong. What made me so unworthy of even being treated kindly? I just needed a distraction, and the pain caused by the razor was the only effective distraction I could think of at this point.

My tears were pouring hard by the time I turned to go to the bathroom to get my fix. Unfortunately, I was stopped in my tracks by Alan. My phone was in his hands and he eyed me sadly, engulfing me in a hug after a moment. So much for not letting him see me cry. He hugged me for what seemed like an eternity, and I was the one who had to pull away.

“What's this?” He asked once we were apart. I tried not to let him take the box, but he was much stronger than me. After opening it and putting two and two together once he saw what was inside, the look on his face was even sadder than before. “Hannah, you don't have to--”

“What's going on?” Alex appeared behind Alan. I had only seen him look as concerned as he did at that moment one other time in my life, and that was the day he had told me I could come on this tour with him.

Alan turned to show him the box of razors and I sighed as Alex grabbed them from him, appearing almost astonished. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at the bunks, the floor, the ceiling, anywhere but him. I had made a promise to him that if he brought me here, I'd at least take a break from it for the summer. I knew he was definitely disappointed in me and I didn't want to deal with it.

“Hannah, what's going on?” Alex inquired once again. I felt his worried stare burn into me as I continued to look at the ground, “Why did you think you needed these right now? Can you at least look at me?”

I glanced up at him upon his request, opening my mouth to explain to him. But trying to come up with a coherent statement about it, even a simple one, only made me cry harder.

Alan was the one to explain once again, opening the post on my phone and handing it to him. It only took a few seconds for the post to register and Alex to become infuriated. He pushed the phone back into Alan's hands with disgust and then looked back to me, trying to appear calm, “So Tony was right? Are you sure that isn't just an old picture of him?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, running my hands through my hair, “They're my favorite band, Alex. I know that it's recent. They dated when he had a different haircut.”

The boys were trying not to laugh at this, at how much of a fan girl I sounded. I even let out a small giggle. But this didn't turn the mood of the conversation around even in the slightest. The box of razors was still in Alan's hand, open, and Alex was still glancing at it every few seconds as we stayed silent. They were probably searching for the right words, and I felt like the energy I had earlier was drained out of me. I didn't even want to make a sound.

“Alan, I think you should leave,” Alex finally spoke up, taking the box from him and motioning toward the door. But Alan didn't move a muscle and continued looking at me sadly. Still, Alex gave him a little push, “Please,” he urged.

“I'm not just going to leave without knowing that she's okay,” He hadn't moved past where he had been pushed. As he said this, I felt a pang of regret. I had only moments ago told him that there was nothing between us, I liked Justin too much. And now here we are.

Alex tried to hide his irritation, pointing toward the front of the bus with closed eyes, “Then wait outside please.”

I could tell that Alan sensed his stubbornness wasn't helping anything as he nodded, moving to the door without another peep. Once he was gone, I knew I was in for it. Alex gave me that big-brother look and sat me down next to him in one of the bottom bunks.

He shook the box in his hands, the metal making almost comforting sounds as it hit the sides. Alex was staring down at it, but looked back up at me after a moment, “Why did you bring these?”

“For comfort,” I answered simply.

He appeared even more worried as I said this, “Have you used them at all during this tour?”

I shook my head and he let out a breath of relief. I so deeply did not want to be having this conversation with him, to just lie back in the bunk and fall asleep for ages. I'd already had one talking to about the topic, I didn't need another. Despite having already said what he could months before, Alex appeared to be at a loss for words now. I was thankful.

He stayed quiet for a few minutes, but spoke softly soon after, “Cutting isn't going to change what he did.”

I was glad he didn't say it. Hearing it out loud would only make it worse. But it still pained me to even be talking about this, and I still had to answer him. I knew he wouldn't let me get away without talking it out.

“It would help me forget about what he did for a few seconds,” I attempted to explain, but I wasn't sure if he would get it. He didn't get it the first time we talked, not really.

He appeared irritated after I said this. I knew that what I wanted to do wasn't justifiable by any means, and I knew that he was going to scold me again for looking at it that way. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing for the worst, but the faint sound of yelling coming from just outside the bus seemed to distract Alex from what he was about to say.

He stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder, unfortunately using his other hand to place the box of razors in his pocket, “Wait here,” he said quietly.

Confused, I didn't obey him, but instead followed him up until the couch in the main area. He continued out the door and down the steps of the bus, and I watched out the window curiously.

It was Alan and Justin yelling back and forth right outside of our bus. And as soon as Alex tried to be the mediator, the first punch was swung by Alan. Great. I sunk back down in my seat, not wanting to even involve myself by looking.

But the gossip girl of Warped Tour never failed to inform me of things I didn't wish to be informed of. I received a picture of the scene a minute or so later, only it was my brother doing the hitting this time. The caption was, “I guess Little Gaskarth still can't fight her own battles, that's cute.” Rolling my eyes, I chucked the phone across from me once again.

I didn't want to get involved, but I didn't want this stupid source of evil to continue to make a mockery out of me either. I didn't have to try to break it up, did I? Even if I did, I wouldn't.

I hurried down the steps without thinking about it any further, but stopped on the last step and let out the loudest scream I had ever let out in my life. You would have thought I was about to be murdered or something. And as I expected, they all stopped what they were doing, breathing heavily, and stared at me.

“You're being immature as fuck,” was all I said, jumping off the step and making my way over to them. It appeared the Justin was the more capable one once again, as I noticed Alan doubled over, one hand over his nose and the other on his stomach. He was walking back and forth, looking like he was about to fall over.

I grabbed him by an arm and started leading him toward his own bus without saying anything more. I heard Justin call after me a few times, but I refused to stop or even turn around. That would mean talking to him about the matter...thinking about it. Once again I was staying to help the other one involved.

–

“I don't even know how to hit,” Alan admitted once we got back to his bus. I smiled lightly at him, wiping his bleeding nose with a tissue, “But he clearly does.”

“Why did you even start that fight if you didn't know how to hit?” I laughed a little, looking him over to see if he was bleeding anywhere else. I wondered if I would ever do this again, seeing as this was my second time helping someone after a fight with Justin. I could make a career out of it.

Alan looked nervous about his reply as he opened his mouth to speak, but he was saved as Austin and Phil entered the room. Phil must have seen the post on the gossip website, as he merely began laughing at him, and Austin just looked confused.

“What the hell happened?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle too.

Alan just shrugged, wincing in pain as he did so, “I got a little in over my head, I think.”

Phil continued to laugh, “Love is blinding.”

I rolled my eyes at this comment, feeling as uncomfortable as I always did when anyone talked about how people liked me right in front of me. I preferred to ignore these types of things as much as possible. It made things so much easier.

Standing, I left the room so I didn't have to hear any more stupid comments, and went to throw the now-bloody tissue away in the kitchen. I felt someone trailing behind me, and turned to see that it was only Austin.

“What's wrong, Hannah?” He asked, concerned. I hated seeing him, or anyone, worry about me like that. It only made me feel like I had to voice everything going on in my head, which I hated just as much. And I didn't even know why he was asking; I had done my best to look unphased. “You look like you've been crying.”

Well that would explain it. I sighed, resting my elbows on the sink, “I'd prefer not to talk about it. Especially not more than once, since Alex is going to make me to talk to him.”

“Oh,” he seemed disappointed by my not wanting to confide in him, “Do you want to avoid him for the night? Stay on our bus and watch some movies or something?”

“I'd have to ask.”

“Come on, Hannah, live a little,” he said it just like Tony had on the first day of tour, and I let out a breath of uncertainty.

I did need some time to just not think about everything—Alex would only make me pour my entire heart to him and then scold me for feeling that way. And plus, this 'living a little' was much better than drinking a ton, I’m sure. Alan was my 'baby sitter' anyway.

“I mean, I guess I could...”