If Only Until Morning

After spending several hours on the ATL bus (kicking Alex's ass at video games), I strolled back to Penny Dreadful's bus through the bright lights of the gas station in which we were stopped. Outside the blinding square, everything was black except the dim spotlights of other busses and vans. The stars blazed overhead, and I sighed happily in the brisk night air.

Considering the day's gruelling schedule (not to mention the heat), I wasn't surprised that Ali and the guys had already gone to bed. Aromi and Ryan sitting across from each other on the couches with rather serious expressions, though, was something I hadn't expected.

I paused, tugging on the end of my braid, when they stopped talking, and a second later Ryan stood up. He walked to me and planted a knee-weakening kiss on my mouth. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, lips less than an inch away from mine. "Forgive me?"

All I could do was nod, but apparently that was good enough, because he smiled and my heart leapt. Aero smiled as we passed him, walking towards the bunkroom, and opened a magazine sitting beside him. "Goodnight, kids," he called sweetly.

We silently navigated the narrow aisle in the dark and began carefully taking off clothes; Sean was a light sleeper and barely four feet away. I hoisted myself up into the top bunk and rolled over to the wall just in time for Ryan to fall in beside me.

It took a little ingenuity to get us both comfortable in the small space, but soon enough we ended up with him pressed against my back, arm slung around my middle. "Night, Ange," he whispered.

Eyes wide open, I watched the darkness grow on the wall as Ryan slid the curtain closed. After a few seconds of stillness, I murmured, "Love you, Ryan."

He pressed his lips against my neck and relaxed his head on the pillow. "Love you too, Rhiannon Angela Penelope Callaghan," he replied, a smile in his voice. I grinned and shut my eyes.

I don't remember what I dreamt, but it must have been nice because I woke up smiling. Although it might have been the hand that how somehow wormed its way underneath my shirt. All primates find the most comfort in physical contact; humans are no exception.

I turned over carefully, and Ryan's hand moved farther up my back, pulling me closer. I bit my lip to keep from giggling: he was so cute in the morning, with his hair all messed up and serene expression. Ryan made a noise in his throat and slowly opened his eyes. A smile crept onto his lips.

"Hi," he said, incapable of anything louder than a whisper. I let loose a small laugh and nestled my head into the pillow, forehead laid against his. It was moments like this that I missed not having what most people would consider a normal life; I couldn't see my boyfriend whenever I wanted, and I missed out on all the normal things that boyfriends and girlfriends do, like stupid dates and spending time doing absolutely whatever. True, I wouldn't give it up for the world, but sometimes, I just wondered, "What if?" I wondered it a lot.

The next thing I knew, someone was knocking on the wall beside the head of my bunk. Ryan's eyes unfixed themselves from me to look over his shoulder. "Are you guys awake?" Jesse asked cautiously. "It's almost opening and Ryan's band's been looking for him."

I yawned widely, sitting up and stretching as best I could. "We'll be out in a few minutes, Jess," I said, suppressing a laugh as Ryan muttered about being invisible and buried his face in my side. I heard Jesse shut the door to the bunkroom and laughed, trying to detach Ryan. "Performing, sugar. The proclaimed only thing you love more than me."

He pulled me back down to the thin mattress and started planting kisses everywhere. "I love you more than performing," he argued, miraculously appearing on top of me.

Despite the maudlin appreciation I'd had before falling asleep again, I stopped him. "People are on the bus," I remindedmyself him. "We have to get ready; fans are going to be let in soon." Ryan sighed, nodded, and pulled open the curtain; feet on the floor, he held his hand out to help me down.

"Finally," Aromi complained five minutes later when we descended the bus. The six of us started into the venue. "At least your quickies aren't loud."

"Aromi Giovanni Tropher!" I exclaimed, probably blushing; I could never really tell, to be honest. Matt coughed to cover a snicker while Sean merely looked embarrassed. "That is inappropriate for polite conversation."

Ryan kissed my cheek as we passed his bus. "I have to go change," he said . "I'll swing by the booth later." He started to change direction, letting go of my hand, but I tugged him back into a firm kiss, holding him to me for a moment too long-- I could tell because Jesse gagged. Ryan wore a silly grin as we split ways.

"Show-off," Matt accused as I fell in beside him again.

"Envious," I countered, readjusting my hat. He opened his mouth but shut it again, and I grinned victoriously.

We weren't playing that day, so I had nothing to look forward to except avoiding the heat, sitting in the booth, and maybe catching a set or two. Unfortunately, the second of those involved being around Alison, which, in case you hadn't picked up on it, was the bane of my existence on tour. And it hadn't even been two weeks yet.

That's why when all of a sudden, the guys announced their departure, I started to panic. "No, you can't come," Jesse declared strictly. "You're going to stay here with Ali and get to know each other."

"Yay!" Ali cried, jumping up. She yanked me over and "hugged" me tightly enough to crack my back. "Just us girls finally!"

"And we'll know if you try to high-tail it," Matt whispered in my ear. He looked over his shoulder at the booth across, and half of The Academy Is waved at us; Matt turned back and raised his eyebrows warningly before stepping out after Sean.

I watched desperately as the guys turned and disappeared into the thickening crowd. A second later, Ali shoved me away and into the table. We glowered at each other. "Don't touch me, scum," she spat.

"Excuse me," I said, sitting down, "But it was you who tried to snap me in half, as I recall."

"Like I would get through all the layers of fat, you cow," she retorted, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.

Disgusted already, I leaned back into the chair and crossed my legs. Mentally cursing her, and Matt, and the growing heat, and anything else I could think of, I pulled out the copy of 1984 I had stuffed into my back pocket. At least I would have something to distract me from the ex-girlfriend of Satan.

Or so I'd hoped. Ali yanked the book out of my hands a few pages later. She looked at the front, read the back, sneered at me, and tossed it into the cardboard jungle of t-shirts and merch. "Reading is bad for your health," she said with a shrug when I glared at her.

"My health? No. Yours? If a hungry cannibal cracked your head open, they're wouldn't be enough inside to cover a small dinner biscuit." I kicked my feet up on the table and watched people going by. If I couldn't read, watching and listening to people would have to do.

Suddenly, I felt my chair jerk and I went tumbling backwards, hitting my head on the face of the sweatshirt box. Ali cackled as I struggled up, rubbing my head. "How clumsy you are!"

I pointedly righted my chair and sat down hard, eyes fixed darkly on her. Before I could comprise my statement, a group of people walked up, holding money. Ali, filling her nails in the corner, did nothing to help them and I even waited a few seconds before rolling my eyes and smiling at the group.

An eternity later, I had sold a decent amount of stuff while our merch girl did nothing. Pardon me: nothing except be rude to customers and preen herself. The band still hadn't come back and I'd seen neither hide nor hair of our manager in hours.

I eyed the booth across the way and, deciding there was enough cover from fans, rose from my chair. "I'm going to use the restroom," I told Alison, who sneered. "I expect you to do your job while I'm gone."

"Go slit your wrists, emo freak," she told me disinterestedly as I slid out from behind the table. I took a deep breath, clenching my teeth, and kept walking; she didn't serve customers, she didn't do what we were paying her for, and she only insulted me. What I needed was a tape recorder, but where the hell would I find one on tour?

Suddenly I got the distinct impression someone was following me. Not that I wasn't usually paranoid, but this was more obvious. I glanced around and instantly spotted my stalker. It wasn't all that hard; even if we were strangers, I would have spotted William.

"You're following me," I observed once I let him catch up.

"Where are you going?" he asked casually before waving to a fan who called his name.

I took off my hat and fixed it on his head. "The bathroom, and don't bother trying to be sneaky; Matt already told me he has you watching me." I sighed. "I wish they wouldn't treat me like a mendacious child."

"You're the only one who's complained about her."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You obviously haven't talked to Hayley or Vicky-T recently."

Thank God, this venue had actual bathrooms as opposed to Port-a-potties. As I came out to wash my hands a group of girls entered mid-complaining. "Holy shit, she was such a bitch!" one of them griped.
"I know," another agreed, "What the fuck was her problem?"

"She thinks just because she works for a popular band she can treat people like shit," the third said, rolling her eyes.

I shook out my hands and grabbed some paper towels, listening; so far I don't they noticed me. "It really puts me off," the second girl said, leaning against the wall. "If PD weren't my favourite band, I wouldn't buy any of their stuff."

"Pardon me for butting in," I began, catching their attention, "But would you happen to be talking about Penny Dreadful's merch girl?"

The two not in a stall blinked at me. "Oh my god," the one who'd just spoken muttered, embarrassed.

"Uh, yeah," the other said. "Sorry, we didn't realise--"

"What did Alison do this time?" I asked with a sigh. The third of their party flushed the toilet, came out, and stopped with wide eyes. I gave a friendly smile as she went to wash her hands.

"Your merch girl wouldn't sell us anything." The second girl, wearing an Escape the Fate shirt, shook her head in aggravation. "No offence, but you should totally fire her."

I laughed dryly. "Trust me, honey, I'm not the one you have to convince." I looked at the three of them. "I'll make it up to you: if you come back with me, I'll sign whatever you buy. Sound good?" Naturally they agreed.

William seemed confused when I exited, striding long steps and accompanied by a posse. "You do seem to accumulate friends fast, don't you?" he laughed, putting my hat back on my head.

"Alison wouldn't sell them merch," I muttered.

He oh'd awkwardly and said nothing as we made our way back to the booth, where a crowd of annoyed people stood. I pushed through the rabble back behind the table, glared venomously at Alison, who looked like she'd been yelling at people, and stepped up from my chair onto the table.

"Quiet down, please," I called; people, if anything, complained loudly to me. "Can I have--" Louder still. I took a deep breath. "LISTEN UP!" Not only did the people around our booth shut up, but people at other booths also turned around to stare. "Thank you. If you'd be so kind as to make some semblance of a line, I'd be happy to exchange your money for merchandise."

Half an hour later, I'd finally gotten through the whole mass of people, signing every single piece I sold. No one had spoken to Alison and those even who acknowledged her made faces of dislike in her direction.

I took a deep breath and relaxed into my chair; my back ached something fierce. "They don't actually like you, you know." I turned my head slowly to scowl at Ali, speaking with sinister certainty. "They only give you the time of day because Matt, Jesse, and Sean are hot and you know them."

"Then what's your excuse?" I asked, tired and annoyed. "Why is it that you deem me interesting enough to make my life a living nightmare? Do you just want in Matt's pants and decided that since I'm close to him I should suffer for it, or are you just that much of a fucking bitch?"

To my complete shock, Alison burst into tears. I stared at her a moment, instantly feeling regret, before realising that she was completely faking. I recognised that method of stage tears. And a second later I knew why.

"Angie, what the hell?!"

Matt came running, with Jesse and Sean a few steps behind, and knelt next to Ali's chair. "She's been nothing but horrible all day!" she blubbered, throwing her arms around his neck. "She kept insulting me and wouldn't let me do my job and... and..." She sobbed louder and harder.

"God," Jesse marvelled, "I never knew you could be such a huge bitch." Face half-hidden in Matt's shoulder, Ali looked up at me and grinned maliciously.

Matt stood up, with her still hanging off him, and fixed me with a frighteningly serious glare. "Just go to the damn bus," he ordered with an angry sigh. "We're going to talk about this later."

I looked at all the angry faces of the people I loved around me. I'd never felt so detested in my life, and considering I had a history of depression, that was pretty astounding. Tears threatening to well up, I pushed my way out, knocking the table a foot out of place, and walked as quickly and surreptitiously as possible towards the bus.

The more I walked, the more I thought, and the more I thought, the more angry and miserable I got. I passed Fall Out Boy coming off stage, and Patrick noticed me first. "Hey, Angie, what's--"

"Leave me the hell alone," I snapped, tears escaping. Sorry, Pat, I apologised mentally as I stalked off. I walked faster and slammed the bus door shut, rubbing fiercely at my eyes. I tore a pillow off the couch and buried my face in it, screaming at the top of my lungs. And I kept screaming until my head spun and I ran out of breath, and my legs gave out, sending me sprawling on the seat.

I stared up at the ceiling, unable to move, unable to distinguish a coherent thought. I flashed back to that morning, when I'd been unwilling to get up.

I shouldn't have.