We Only Breathe For So Long

The sound of the rain woke me up from what felt like a very good night of sleep. My eyes could barely be opened, it took me several minutes before I gained full attention to my surroundings – this was the bus. I could clearly recognize it by the multiple guitars that hanged on the yellow green wall.

Where was John? I recall falling asleep in his arms, hearing his sweet voice whisper above my ears while singing a lullaby. I don’t think my dad could ever beat John when it came to lullabies. His voice fit the melody perfectly as if it had been written just for him to sing it. John was nowhere to be found, all that was left behind from him was his smell, and boy did he smell good. I wasn’t sure if I should go back to sleep and indulge myself with his smell or if I should stay awake and count the minutes down until he appeared once again.

I slowly rose up and made my way to the kitchen. My mouth felt as dry as a desert, like I had been walking for days with little to drink and no rest at all. I opened the fridge, got out a cold bottle of water and drank it. I gulped it down fast and its moistness against my dry throat felt as good as heaven.

“John?” I shouted and paused while waiting for a reply. “Jared? Pat? Kenny? Garrett?”

It was of no use. My words were spoken at empty air because no voice replied back. I felt as if my face was sticky and damp with sweat although it was about -10 degrees outside. I dragged myself to the tiny room they called the bathroom. It was so small that I doubted two people could fit in there without invading each other’s personal space. I got in, didn’t even bother to close the door, and began to search for a new toothbrush in order to remove the bitter morning breath that was stained on my tongue. I didn’t have to search for long. There was a toothbrush still inside its new packet next to a note stuck on the bottom right corner of the mirror.

Good morning, beautiful. Had practice. Got you a toothbrush to recompense. Sorry? – John

As I read the word ‘beautiful’ and his name together in the same sentence, I was glad nobody was around to see how much I blushed and smiled. I opened the packet after almost gaining a paper cut, and brushed my teeth. I found an opened box of soap and used that to wash my face. Unfortunately, five boys weren’t really interested in facial care to own one single bottle of scrub, at least.

I didn’t know what to do after I had finished. This wasn’t my house and I didn’t even own the tag to go out for a walk and come back later. John never really gave me a tour of the bus so the only places I knew were the visible ones: the kitchen and living room. That’s it. I didn’t even know how many rooms there were in here but I assumed there were plenty owing the fact that this bus was enormous. John had fetched me yesterday afternoon from university so I couldn’t even go home on my own since I didn’t have my bike with me.

I walked over to the living room and jumped on the black, leather couch. It had a reasonable size but it was big enough to fit three people lying down. A plasma TV stood directly in front of the couch and I thought about watching TV. The problems were that I had no idea how to work that thing or which remote belonged to which electronic apparatus.

I took this moment of solitude to think a little about things happening with me and around me. I’m an absent-minded person - I don’t really notice things around me and trust me, that isn’t a good trait at all. I forget about most of the things I have to do and remember about most of the things that I don’t have to do. It was something very silly that complicated my life more than it already was.

John said he had to go to practice. That could only mean him and the boys would be performing a show tonight. If this moment were a cartoon, a light bulb would have appeared on top of my messy hair. Why not surprise Sophie, for a change, and take her to the concert? Wait. Even better. Why not ask Kennedy to fetch her before the show? Damn, I am so good, I thought.

Despite the age differences that kept Sophie and Kenny truly apart, I wished they were together anyways. I know it is something wrong, but it isn’t something right either. They both like each other and they’re holding back just because of a number? At first, I didn’t agree either. Kennedy was right to set things straight with Sophie before she got her hopes too high. But if I were her age and I liked John as much as I like him now, I wouldn’t think twice before forgetting about how old I was and just remembering how good it felt to be with him.

I stopped my mind from wondering about things before I even got started thinking about John. If I did, I would never stop thinking about it and I would eventually forget about time itself. I stood up and decided to do some exploring, there’s nothing better than to make the unknown, known. All around the bus, there were a couple of things that were common and scattered throughout all rooms: multiple CD collections, music instruments, picks and photographs. I visited all four rooms. Garret’s and Pat’s room was the best of both worlds. You could clearly see which side belonged to which guy. The left side was neat and tidy, nothing was left out of place and it looked cleaned. The right side was a total mess from clothes to even food. Kennedy shared a room with Jared and my attention was caught by the guitars they had. Think of a color, maybe even your favorite color. Whatever color you had in mind, they had a guitar in that color. From luminescent yellow to mustard green, from all ranges of tones, they owned one. I didn’t understand how it was possible to fit so many guitars in such a small room but they managed to do that.

I lastly stumbled across John’s room once again. Last night – well, this morning – was too dark to be able to see how his room really was. He didn’t share it with anyone and he only had one bunk bed. The walls were painted in a yellow green tone of color and there were multiple posters stuck to it. Motivational and musical posters were the majority. Near his nightstand there was a picture frame of his family and him. He stood on the right side, beside a man who was the spitted imagine of John. A middle-aged lady posed in the middle with two other boys on her left side. I assumed they were John’s brothers since the resemblance was clear. The picture-frame had the words ‘I will love you always’ on it. On the far wall of the room were a couple more of photographs. They were placed in a chronological order. The firsts images were baby pictures of John. He had blue eyes and blonder hair by then. It then progresses to his childhood as he smiled with a missing tooth. He looked like a total douche during his teenage years. His hair was long and his fringe even longer. Somehow, he looked skinner than he currently is – in other words, he barely had any flesh. The last few pictures were of him and the boys. In one of them, they looked very young, most likely in their sophomore year, and all of them had longish hair. The last one was a recent picture, one that was taken the day their book was launched at the bookshop. They were all holding their markers, looking straight at the camera as they unleashed their widest smile. Except John. He was looking to his left, unaware that a picture was being taken of him, as his lips formed a soft smile and his eyes looked tender.

As I was about to walk out of the room, I stumbled upon a book, a notebook to be precise. It was thick, black and crammed with papers. It seemed old since most of the pages were yellow instead of white. The words “John’s Head” were carved onto the cover of the book as the title. I wanted to pick it up, open it and read all that was written inside. But I didn’t know if it was the wisest thing to do. Whatever was written in that book, it was private. It wasn’t something that anyone could read at his or her own will. You had to get permission from the author himself to even take a peak at it. As much as my brain warned me, curiosity kept on driving me. I bent down, grabbed the notebook with both hands and rushed to his bunk bed. I sat down and hesitated opening it for a few seconds. What if John found out? Would he get mad? For all I know, his darkest secrets could be held within this notebook.

Did I listen to my brain for once? That was a question I knew the answer to.

I unclicked the seal that bounded it all together. The first page was a sort of index, it was about four pages long and it included titles. As I quickly skimmed through the pages, I noticed the titles were related to songs and poems found in the notebook. Every song had the rough draft, lyrics and music sheet attached to it. The poems were a sketchy mess filled with crossed-out words and they looked more like letters rather than poems since John always inserted ‘Goodnight” at the end of each poem. All the songs or poems that the band or John ever wrote were inside this book. It was pretty heavy as I began to think about how many things that have written. I had trouble writing a 500-word essay, I would never be capable to write all of this in my lifetime. That fact reminded me of how talented musicians really are. Before I met the boys, I never really gave credit to musicians, – don’t get me wrong, I love music – but I’m not the type of person who listens to a lot of music. I do now and then but I read more. Not everybody can pull good words together with an even better rhythm to it. There are few people who can do that in a great way, others just attempt to do it and get satisfied with what they manage to create. John was part of perhaps the 2% of the musicians who were talented and still managed to keep his feet on the ground. I’ve never met any celebrities before but I don’t think it’s necessary to meet them to actually see who has a good mind and those who doesn't. Fame and money can do monstrous things to a person yet John kept it all together. He did what he loved and he still lived his life like an average guy his age would.

20 minutes had passed since I opened the notebook. I was just skimming through the pages and it took me this long, imagine if I had actually read it. I was about to close it before I reached the end but I saw a flash of the title of the last page and it caught my attention.

Kylie, was the title.

There was nothing written on it, just a few scribbles. The scribbles were crossed-out to such an extent that it was impossible for me to figure out which words were lying beneath the blue ink. I spent minutes trying to figure out the words but luck wasn’t on my side today. It was a mission, nowhere to be completed. I gave up with frustration while letting out a sigh. Not fair, I thought to myself.

Since my attempt was going nowhere, I neatly placed the notebook to its previous position and spot. The minute I packed it away, I head the click sound coming from the machine that opened the door of the bus. I stood up as fast as a heartbeat, looking around for a place to stand so I wouldn’t look so suspicious. I couldn’t think of any place besides the bathroom since it was the closest door. I ran and closed the door behind me, trying to calm down the rush I was feeling so I wouldn’t be heard.

“Kylie?” asks John.

“In the bathroom!” I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible. Why did I feel guilty? It was just a book, I’m sure many people have seen it. I mean, all the songs from the band were in there and the boys helped John write it. I shouldn’t be guilty about it, but just the thought of doing it behind John’s back made me feel bad enough.

There was concern in his voice. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m just um, fixing my hair.” I rolled my eyes at myself for such a poor excuse.

“OK.”

A few minutes later I walked out of the bathroom. The moment I did so, Kennedy walked in before I even saw John. Was this fate? I didn’t know. All I knew is that I had to come up with an excuse to make Kennedy fetch Sophie without telling him my intensions.

“Kenny! Hey,” I smiled to him, attempting to sound normal. “Um, would you mind fetching Sophie for me today? I really want to come to tonight’s show and I’m sure she would love to come along.”

He dropped the grocery bags he was carrying and took a moment to think, probably about his plans for today. Before he had the chance to reply, John did that for him.

“That’s all good, I can do that myself,” said John, halfway through his Subway sandwich. He took another sandwich and threw it to me. I caught it with both hands and its delicious smell triggered my hunger.

No. John couldn’t ruin this, I had to find a way to make him catch my drift or else my plans would evaporate.

“Um,” I tried to rationalize as fast as I could, “what did you guys buy?”

Kennedy looked down and fiddled with the groceries. “Oh, you know… food.”

As Kennedy shifted his attention to something else, I managed to get John’s attention by waving desperately in the air. I try to tell him my plan without speaking but that was harder than I thought. Luckily I had my phone on my pocket so I took it out and sent him a text.

Tell him you can’t make it.

His phone buzzed immediately, he took it out from his pocket and read the message. “Why?” he whispered soundlessly.

I sent him another text. Just do it.

Almost instantly, he stood up as he placed his phone on the counter. “Oh, man, I forgot I can’t. I have to practice those sharp notes for tonight.”

Lesson learnt: John is a bad liar. The harder he tried to make it convincing, the guiltier he looked. I couldn’t help but laugh at him and his miserable attempt. He looked at me confused as his cheeks tightened into a grin.

“I was going to say yes anyways so, I’ll be on my way now. See you guys later,” said Kennedy, smiling.

He got out as soon as he came in.

“I have to practice sharp notes,” I said mockingly. “You are a very bad liar.”

He laughed. “And you,” he got closer to me, “are very slow in texting.”

He leaned down a bit and his lips met mine. We shared a lingering kiss.

At this point, I was starting to believe that whenever we kissed, someone would feel the need to call me in order to interrupt it. I moaned under my breath as I took a step back. John laughed and kissed my forehead before going to his room.

“Hello?” I answered the phone.

“Hi? Kylie?” a familiar voice spoke.

“Jane? Yes.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue, but I just wanted to know if by any chance Eric is with you right now?” Her voice sounded curious yet worried at the same time.

“Um, no, he isn’t actually.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks anyway!” thanked Jane, ending the call.

“Who was it?” asked John, his voice sounded far away.

“Jane. Eric’s sister.”

John came back to the living room, wearing a completely different attire, he was busy buttoning his shirt. “What did she want?”

“Know where Eric was, I told her I didn’t know. I haven’t seen him in days.”

“Good,” said John as he smiled more to himself rather than at me.

“Good?” I asked, curious with his mischievous smile.

He smirked, kissing me once again. “Good.”

I looked like a less handsome version of John tonight. I was wearing his skinny black pants – which were a little bit big for me in height and around my waist – and one of his many leather jackets. Since his feet were too big compared to mine, or else he would have made me wear some of his shoes too, I used my own black converses. We didn’t have time to go to my house for me to get changed so we decided to rely on improvisation.

We walked towards the venue’s entrance hand in hand. As we approached it, the crowd of fans only got bigger and bigger. At first, I was a little nervous. I don’t really like being in crowds, nevertheless crowds that would do anything to be the girl holding John’s hands. John picked up on my mood and squeezed my hand. I looked up to him and he was already looking at me with a tranquil smile on his face.

“They won’t attack me, right?” I jokingly asked, chuckling.

He laughed and stroked his free hand through his hair. “I don’t think so. At least not tonight,” he played along.

Further steps closer, the crowd could see us. Many girls screamed and held their posters higher. But most of them looked surprised, almost in shock, the moment they laid eyes on me. It was tough to get through the crowd since they all wanted to touch John or see me up closer. As we struggled to reach the doors, I heard a few comments coming from fans.

“She’s so pretty,” I heard. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from smiling at the compliment.

“John is too good for her,” I heard.

John is too good for her. In an instant, the compliment was forgotten and all that occupied my mind were those harsh words. It doesn’t matter who you are, I believe you do not own the right to speak to someone like that. Bully is an ugly thing and although this wasn’t a bullying scenario, I felt bullied somehow. Words are powerful and they hurt more than anything. I lowered my gaze and my smile turned into a dead expression.

Minutes before the show was about to start, John and the boys were ready by the wings of the stage. Garrett started drinking beer to cheer him up, Pat was drumming in the air, Jared was jumping up and down from anxiety and Kennedy was talking to Sophie. By the way they were smiling at each other and their shoulders were touching, I guessed I did a pretty good job.

“Everything’s okay? You seem a bit off.” John’s voice trailed off as I paid little attention to his presence.

My subconscious was really pushing me to such an extent, that I was starting to feel bad near John. Like those words were true, he was too good for me. I tried to shake them off my mind and it did work. Well, at least for now.

“Yeah, I am,” I said with an assuring smile, “go rock that crowd!”

I stood on my tiptoes and held his shoulders for support as I leaned in to kiss him. He broke the kiss with a smile and the next thing I knew, he was on stage already.

I adored each and every song they played. I felt ashamed for not knowing any of the lyrics at this stage. When they played ‘Take Me Dancing’ I managed to pick up some of the lyrics. The rest, I just danced along.

After two hours of an electric vibe from the crowd. John announced the end of the show. The crowd cheered their loudest as the boys exited the stage.

John ran out of the stage and griped my hand in the process, not slowing down a big.

His sudden action took me by surprise. “Where are you going?”

He stopped but never let go of my hand as his eyes were focused on mine. “I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m going. Are you coming with me?”

I gently nodded my head, grinning like mad.