Don't Speak, Liar

I’ve only been drunk on a few occasions. I love the taste of alcohol, and I love what it does to me, but I come from a family of alcoholics, and I’ve always been scared I’ll end up in rehab. Last night, I let my worries go, and I got wasted.

I can’t recall all the details, but I wake up in my bunk, wearing the same clothes I had on the day before. My head throbs with a headache. Looking at my left hand, I notice all my knuckles are red, like I punched someone. I’m not a violent person, so it’s unlikely I would actually try to fight somebody, but I can’t figure out what could bruise my knuckles.

I notice my white iPhone lighting up, and I pick it up. I see a photo of Shaun and I as the backdrop, and his number flash on the screen. I unlock my phone, answering as quickly as I can. “Hey,” I mumble, running my free hand through my knotted hair.

“Morning, Morganne. I know you just woke up, but can you please find our tent? You’re on in an hour and I don’t want you to be late.” As he mentions my set, I lower the phone from my ear and check the time. 11:23.

“Of course. Do you need anything?” Shaun tells me he’s fine, and we hang up. Today he’s all business, so we’ll probably catch up later today, when he and I can take a break and talk in a stress-free environment.

I open the curtain to my bunk and look around. From what I can tell, nobody is back in the bunks. I hop down and open my bags, grabbing my outfit for the day: a sky blue sundress and my dirty black vans. I change into my new outfit and throw my old clothes into my bunk, deciding that I’ll take care of them later. Afterwards, I head into the bathroom. I run a brush through my wavy hair to get any knots out and fix my smudged makeup. Nobody moved the lotion I put near the sink the day before, so I put some on, inhaling the sweet coconut smell. I set the lotion back down, brush my teeth, and then look into the mirror again. Satisfied with my appearance, I step outside of the bathroom, ready to explore the venue.

When I get outside, I immediately feel the warm sun on my skin. I walk to the gate, away from the buses. Most of the buses here look similar, I can never tell what bus belongs to which band. They’re all a generic tour bus, black and grey. I like it, though. It shows that we’re all the same, nobody is better than another.

“Morganne!” I hear somebody shout my name, so I stop dead in my tracks and look around. To my right, I see two boys walk towards me. I smile and wave to them, motioning them to walk a little faster to catch up.

“Hey, guys,” I say as Lou and Michael Bohn walk up to me. “What’s up?” When they get to me, I continue walking. The two walk with me, and Michael slings his arm over my shoulder.

“We have time to kill,” Lou says, shrugging. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to find my tent so I know where I’m performing,” I respond.

“Where’s your tent?” Michael asks. When I tell him, he points straight ahead of us. “It’s right over there, by the Monster stage, which is the stage I’m playing at later, you know.” He tightens his grip on my shoulder a little, jokingly, before letting go and putting his arm back to his side.

“Thanks, what time is your set?” Michael shrugs at my question, telling me that he’s almost positive that it’s later in the day. It doesn’t take much time to get to the acoustic tent. An artist I’m not familiar with is performing, so the guy singing isn’t distracting me like another might. In the back, by the little merch table, is my tour manager, with crossed arms and a puffed chest.

We walk over to him, and Shaun raises and eyebrow when he sees us. “That was faster than I thought,” he chuckles. “You’re on at 12:20. I arranged for Kyle to come over. Well, I told him that your set started around 12:30 and if he wants to sing with you, he can come over to the tent to join us.”

“We just went over the song for the first time yesterday, there’s no way I have all of it down!” I cross my arms now, frustrated. I love that Shaun takes care of everything, but him inviting Kyle should’ve been a team decision, at least a choice I should’ve been able to make.

“You guys practiced all night, you’ll do fine. It’s your first duet, it’d be good for you.” Shaun shrugs, and I look around to the other two boys, who are both wearing smiles. “It’s not a guarantee that you’ll play it,” Shaun continues. “He might not even come.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes, and then Lou’s phone rings. “Hold on a minute, it’s Andy.” He slides his finger across his phone and puts it up to his ear, walking away as he does.

“Do your knuckles hurt,” Michael asks. He grabs my hand, gently rubbing each knuckle with his thumb.

“A little,” I admit, “but can you tell me how I got them? I have no idea.” Michael starts laughing, and I feel myself shrink back, feeling my cheeks get color from embarrassment.

“You punched Andy last night because he was making fun of you.” I guess there must’ve been a look of horror on my face, because he quickly continues. “It was all in good fun though, nobody was hurt and it was all a joke. You just socked his shoulder pretty good.”

I laugh too, still embarrassed. I check the time: 12:03. “Are you going to stay for my set? It’d be sort of cool if you did,” I smile over at Michael. I hope he does; it’d be nice to have a friend support me.

Michael nods, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Shaun cuts him off. “We need to get you set up, Morg.” He goes behind the long plastic tables, and Michael and I follow him. Lou’s probably still on the phone, because he is nowhere in sight. Shaun motions to the three cardboard boxes he has on the back corner of the table. “We need to get the merch laid out. You also need to figure out what songs you’re playing for sure, because I know that Yours Truly wasn’t on the original list yesterday.” The three of us unpack boxes, neatly lining up merch.

When the artist finishes up his set, he waves to everybody and gets off the small stage. I tell him he did a great job, and he smiles, thanking me. I make a mental note to figure out who he is before the next time I see him.

“Can we get a stool for my set? I don’t want to stand the whole time,” I say to one of the guys helping clear the small stage off for me. He nods, and yells for another guy to put the stool pushed off to the side from the last set back onto the stage. “So, you’re staying?” I turn and ask Michael.

“I only can for a little bit, I guess my band is playing earlier than I thought we were,” Michael frowns, put pulls me in for a hug. “You’re going to do great though, and I’ll see your full set soon.” I nod, hugging him back. “I’ll text you after my set, and maybe when I do my signing later, you can join us.” I tell him it’s a good idea, and in the background, I hear somebody shout, telling me that the stage is all mine now.

Shaun gives me my guitar, and I get onto the stage, sitting on the stool. Looking out, I see the faces of the crowd. There is a good mixture of girls and boys, and they even vary in age. I introduce myself and go right into C’Mon.

Towards the end of the song, I notice Kyle entering the tent and go back towards Shaun. Butterflies assemble in my stomach, and suddenly, I’m extremely glad Kyle that came and I can sing with him today. I didn’t think he took the song seriously enough, honestly. I decided to play my next three songs in sync, leaving my song with Kyle for last.

I finish up the last few notes of Party Like You're Single, and then point towards Kyle so he knows to get ready. “So, guys, this is my last song for you,” the crowd boos, which makes a huge grin break out on my face. “But, I have a new song for you. I wrote it last night with a good friend of mine, and he’s here to help me sing it today.” Kyle gets on the stage, sitting on a stool someone must’ve put on when I wasn’t looking. I hear some girls clap and scream, and I look at him, raising an eyebrow at his fan girls.

“This is Kyle Pavone from We Came As Romans! The song we’re singing is called Lucky.”

I smile nervously at Kyle, and he grins back, mouthing for me to calm down. I grib my pick tightly, praying that I don’t make any mistakes during the first real performance. But as I begin, and Kyle hits the first verse, things are just effortless. If I made any mistakes, nobody noticed. The crowd reacts positively. The eye contact between Kyle and I throughout the song helped add to the chemistry of the song. Once the song comes to an end, I get off the stool, and Kyle hugs me, whispering that I did fantastic.

“We did fantastic,” I correct. I turn to the fans, and they’re all staring at Kyle and I with wide eyes. I laugh and tell them bye, and Craig Owens should be the next set. I get off the stage, followed by Kyle.

“I love that song,” Shaun says. I take off my acoustic guitar and hand it to him. “I think the fans do too.”

A line assembles at my little merch table. “Are you going to stay with me while I meet some fans?” I ask Kyle.

I fully expect him to say no, but he sits down on the ground beside me. “Yeah, I don’t have anything better to do.” My butterfly moshpit returns. This song was such a great idea. It must really be luck that Kyle is really interested to be singing with me. I know he’s not very into me, he told me he hardly knew me so it’d be hard to form an opinion on my yet. But, I really hope Kyle forms feelings for me soon. He’s really growing on me.

I talk with some fans, sign autographs, and take pictures.A pretty redhead and what I assume is her boyfriend, come up to me. “You were so great,” the guy says. The girl grabs a CD and hands me a couple dollars for it. I take my sharpie and sign the CD, handing it back to her.

“Thanks! I’m glad you liked the show.”

“So, are you and, uh, Kyle, a thing? You guys were so cute!” The girl speaks up, and for a moment, I’m shocked. While the song he and I sang together was a love song, I didn’t think anybody but me thought that we had chemistry on stage together, especially since we were just sitting.

I turn back around to Kyle, and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “No,” I say a little quickly, “we’re just friends.”

“Well, maybe in the future or something? I’d give it a chance,” the girl continues. “Your voices go well, and you have the vibe successful couples have. Plus you two are totally hot,” I can tell I’m blushing, and I begin to get uncomfortable. Her compliments are great, but it’s a little awkward, because she has no idea on mine and Kyle’s personalities. Hell, I don’t even really know if Kyle and I have personalities that fit hand-in-hand.

The boy tugs on the redhead’s hand. “Sorry, she just loves you and We Came As Romans.” With that, the two leave, and I turn back to Kyle. He finally lets out the laugh he let build up.

“Can you believe that?” Kyle laughs, “I can’t believe people think we would date!” He continues laughing, and I’m not sure if he’s waiting for me to say something or not, but I don’t. I don’t even laugh. I thought it was cute, not very funny.

By now, Craig Owens has taken the stage. I check the time and shoot a text to Michael, telling him that I’m finished with my set and when he’s finished we could hang out again. When I’m finished, I turn back around to Kyle. “I’m going to go get lunch.”

Kyle gets up from his spot. “I’ll join you,” He says, shrugging. He stretches his arms and yawns. I shake my head at him.

“It’s alright. If I get lunch with you, I’m afraid some people might think we’re dating,” I roll my eyes and wink at Kyle.

He laughs, “It’s worth the risk.”