You Found Me

"So how long do you think they'll stay together?" Jared spoke, making me look away from my work and follow his gaze.

It went to the couple who was hanging out over at the couch with Garrett's arm around Carlile's shoulders. They were in a conversation with Rocket and Limited.

I've been forcing myself to avoid anyone basically anyone. I haven't even been sticking to Limited that much anymore as I have been at the very start of the tour. I just needed alone time but I guess wanting that when I agreed to come to the tour is pretty stupid.

"10 dollars that they're gonna break up before tour ends," Pat chuckled and leaned back on his seat with a crooked smile. "They're not gonna last."

I rolled my eyes and went back to typing on the laptop. I really didn't need anyone diverting my attention to anything. I was more than determined to finish all my tasks on time.

"I don't know man." Jared shook his head slightly and scrunched his face up. "They look pretty stable. I'll give it two months."

"One," I spoke up and looked up from the screen and glared at all of them, making them whip their heads at me.

"One month?"

"One minute more and I'm going to leave this tour and hitch a ride back to Arizona if you all don't stop," I said with an annoyed tone and slammed the laptop shut. "You guys shouldn't bet on your friend like that," I frowned at them and stood up to go back to the bus to work there quietly.

As much as I just really wanted them to stop talking about Garrett and Carlile, I really didn't like it whenever they bet on something. I know that Jared and Pat still have a bet running for John and Daisy, but even after everything, nothing's happened to them. I'm pretty sure John has placed numerous bets on me when I was in a crisis and I absolutely hated it.

The cool air hit my skin when the moment I stepped inside the bus. I made my way over to the table and cleared the bottles and plastic containers they left behind when they ate breakfast and tried getting myself comfortable to work. I plugged my earphones on and started typing on the laptop. My attention was stuck on the screen, not wanting to get distracted by anything or anyone. I didn't lift my head up when someone passed by or when someone was standing in front of me. I was more than determined to finish the work that had to be done on that day.

It was about 2 in the afternoon when I decided to take a break and go look for anywhere to get food quickly. The sun was scorching hot and I tried to get somewhere to avoid getting a sunburn, especially because Pat getting one on his face made it seem like it was the most painful thing ever.

I shivered slightly when I finally got to pick somewhere to get food, feeling the air-conditioning hit my skin. I was in the middle of ordering when I felt my phone at the back pocket of my pants vibrating. While the server went to go get my meal, I opened the text sent by Tim.

Little favor. Please bring the money box backstage, March. Thanks.

I slid the phone back in my pocket without replying and waited for the food to get ready. Once it was handed to me in a paper bag, I scurried back to where the bus was parked and headed straight to the back of the bus where the vault was. I pressed the code to open, but imagine my face when I saw that the vault was absolutely empty.

My mouth dropped open and my heart stopped beating for a moment. I was sure that this was the last place where I left it and there wasn't anyone who knew the code except for me and Tim. And if he's the one that told me to bring it to me, I'm pretty sure he wasn't the last one to open this.

I gulped and went straight to my bunk to see if I had left it there, but I'd already flipped everything in it and there was no sign of the metal box lying anywhere. My breath started getting more and more shallow and I could feel my heart pounding out of my chest. There was no way I could lose that box. That was the whole earnings for the shows that were done. I was going to be ruined if I lost it.

I hopped off the bus, completely forgetting about eating lunch and headed straight to the venue to see if I had left it there. I entered the room quietly as everyone spoke to each other in loud voices. I tried not to garner any attention at all by keeping my mouth shut and searching every corner of the room. There was no sign of Tim, and I sighed in relief because I had no idea how I was going to explain that the money the tour has earned so far is misplaced.

I was starting to feel lightheaded when the box was nowhere to be found. If it wasn't in the box, in my bunk or here, I had no idea where it would be. I left the room feeling like I wanted to do self-immolation. I did the worst thing I could possibly do in this tour and I had no idea what I was going to do.

I leaned on the wall beside the door of their waiting room with my hands on my knees, trying to catch up with my breath. Trying to calm myself down while I knew I was in big trouble was the hardest thing ever especially because I felt so lost that I didn't know what to do.

I tried controlling my breath but it was getting harder and harder as the seconds went by. I was getting dizzy and I could feel my surroundings starting to spin around.

I closed my eyes and looked down on the floor to hide my face behind my hair when I heard the door open quickly and then close again.

"March? March," a voice called from my right and the next thing I knew, I could feel a hand on my shoulder. "Hey. What are you doing?"

I lifted my head and tried controlling my breathing when I saw him frantically looking into my eyes to find out what's wrong. I shook my head and tried my best to clear my head.

"Okay. I'm going to go get John." He put his hand on the doorknob but I quickly held it and moved it away, not wanting him to tell anyone.

"No. No. No, you can't, G-Garrett," I shook my head and grabbed his wrist, pulling him away from the door and to the back door of the venue. The place was almost empty since people were already almost finished with setting up, leaving the two of us alone. I breathed out deeply, trying my best to control myself and to speak up. "Fuck. What am I going to do? I'm dead. I'm ruined."

"Woah. Woah. Slow down," he put his hands in front of him and tried getting me to calm down. "What's up? What's happening with you?"

When my breathing slowed down a bit, I stared blankly at him and thought about whether I should tell him or not. But after a while, I just shook my head and turned on my heel to go and try to solve my problem myself. He wasn't the person that would want to be there for me anyway. I already knew that we didn't get along because of everything that happened.

After a few steps, he caught up and grabbed me by the arm, spinning me around to face him. "For one second, March, treat me like I was the friend that you had when first moved to Arizona," he said softly with a pleading look, something that made my blood boil.

I had no idea how those words could come out of his mouth, especially because he's done nothing but make me feel bad ever since our problem happened. After ignoring me, bad mouthing me, and screaming at me while working professionally, he was now standing in front of me, telling me to treat him like we were once friends.

"Leave me alone, Garrett," I mumbled and turned around to go but he stopped me again.

"Jesus, March. Just tell me what's wrong. We hate each other's guts but there should be something big that's wrong if I found you having a panic attack outside our door so just tell me what it is," he demanded and I could feel his grip almost cutting my circulation off. When I stared at his hand, he gladly took it back and stepped backward.

I sighed and rubbed my face in frustration. "I lost the money box," I said quietly, watching his reaction.

His mouth fell slightly agape but he tried closing it as quickly as possible to not panic. "It isn't in the vault?"

"Would I panic like this if it was?"

"Bunk?"

"Once again, would I panic like this if it was?"

"Anaheim?"

I froze on my spot and tried to go to my deepest thoughts if I did leave it there. I remember putting it on the table of their waiting room at least once and on the table where I tried working back stage. But I clearly recall being able to put it back in the vault, leaving me more frustrated more than ever.

"Wait here," he said sternly, half-jogging to the exit of the parking lot. He enters again, but this time, riding a car. He rolls his windows down and halts in front of me. "Get in. We're going to Anaheim."

"You're doing a show in two hours," I waved my hands in protest, but he wasn't going to have it.

"Just get in the car," he rolled his eyes and put his window back up. I looked back to the door of the venue and then the car. I groaned and threw myself inside the vehicle, not knowing what to do anymore.

"Anaheim is a five hour drive," you shook your head in disbelief. "You're supposed to be on stage tonight."

"And if we don't go back? What are you going to do? How are you going to explain to Tim that you lost everything?" He looked at me from the corner of his eye with his jaw clenched. "Thought so. We're going to Anaheim."

After 45 minutes of driving, he took a stop over and pulled his phone out of his pocket. When I looked over, I see the words "29 missed calls" in big bright white letters. He pressed the green button and put the phone to his ear.

"I'm not going to make it tonight," he spoke softly, obviously scared that everyone was going to be mad at him too. It made me feel guilty that the reason he wasn't going on stage tonight was he's going to go on a little adventure with me, trying to find that stupid money box. "Ask Evan if he could replace me. Or Halvo. They can work something out. I'm sorry, Pat. I'm not kidding when I say that this is very important. Not just for me, for the whole crew of the tour. I'll explain everything," he said and then drops the phone on the dash and starts driving again.

It was quiet between the two of us and unexpectedly, he didn't even try turning the radio on just to relieve the awkwardness. It wasn't so long until the silence was interrupted again by a phone ringing, this time, mine.

"March? Where are you? Where's Garrett?" Kennedy half-shouted and half-asked on the other line, making my heart beat fast. "Why is he missing tonight's show?"

"I'm sorry, Ken," I mumble apologetically and shake my head. "Call me after your show, alright?"

"No! Don't hang up on me!" He demanded, making me pull the phone away from my ear. "Tim's grilling my ass here because of the two of you and I want to know where you two are!"

I sighed on the phone and ran my hand through my hair, getting more and more frustrated by the second.

"If you and Garrett think this is the best time to suddenly get together and run away, you two are wrong! Do it after the tour!"

I could see Garrett rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Listen carefully, okay?" I mumbled quietly, trying to find the words to explain. "I lost the box that contains all the money that this tour has earned so far. It isn't in the vault and I have no idea where I put it. I'm dead, Ken."

There was silence on the other line and I could feel my throat hurting once again. I wasn't the only one screwed. Everyone included in this tour was too.

Garrett glanced over at me and grabbed my phone with one hand and put it to his ear. "Ken?" His face was slowly turning into a frown and then a confused look took over. "What do you mean? Are you serious? Yeah? Okay. M-hmm. Fine. We'll try and make it back on time."

He ended the call and gave the phone back to me. He turned the car around to go back to where we came from. We were already one hour into the trip and it's going to take another one hour to go back. I don't know why Garrett changed his mind on going to Anaheim but really, the biggest problem was still finding the money.

"What's happening?" I asked cluelessly with a soft voice.

He bit his lower lip and sighed. "You should relax. The box is with Tim."

I let out a sigh of relief and sunk back into the car seat, feeling like a huge weight was lifted off of my shoulders. You remained in an uncomfortable silence while driving back to the venue and neither of you gathered the guts to speak up. After all, there was nothing that the two of you could talk about anyway.

***

"They're 3 songs in," Tim gave Garrett his bass guitar and motioned for him to get up on stage. Garrett nodded and grabbed the bass by the neck, slinging the strap over his shoulders.

"Guess who's back!" He shouted into the microphone, causing the audience to erupt in cheers. Halvo laughed in relief and gave Garrett a high five, stepping down the stage. "Aw man. Did you guys miss me?!"

While the fans screamed a "yes" in unison, the rest of the band members played along by teasing him that he had to take a dump, being the reason why he's late. They went on with the setlist and continued with Girls Do What They Want. As the song starts, I head over to the waiting room and fell on the couch. I was thankful that the room was empty, but peace didn't last long when Tim and Dylan went inside the room.

"Running off with one of the band members, huh?" Tim playfully quirked an eyebrow at me and sat beside me with Dylan following on his right. "We're you really prepared to go to Anaheim to find it?"

I just laughed softly in response to his question and smiled at the two of them. A hundred words could describe how I'm feeling right now. Relieved, stressed, confused, weirded out, sad, awkward...

"I asked Kennedy to get it and I forgot to tell you that you don't need to bring it to me anymore. I thought that you didn't see my text since you didn't reply so I asked someone else," Tim explained with a grin on his lips. "I'm sorry I got you stressed out. On the brighter side, you got to make up with Garrett, right?"

I pressed my lips together and forced a smile out. I had no idea what I was supposed to reply to him. I let the money box thing go because what was important was it wasn't lost and I didn't misplace it. The Garrett thing... I had no idea what to feel about because last time I checked, the two of us were spitting daggers at each other. I had no idea how we ended up in a car to solve my problem.

"Come on. Let's go to the bar. My treat. I'm pretty sure the two of you are stressed right now," Dylan stood up from the couch and smiled at the two of us.

"You two go. March, you're done for tonight," Tim nodded as he took his phone out and fumbled with it, probably doing business, as usual.

I didn't try and take the offer down anymore because I was already too tired so I followed him out of the waiting room to the bar at the back of the venue.

"You ayt?" He looked at me with a worried look and slid a bottle of beer over at my direction.

"I'm good," I replied with a tired smile and grabbed the bottle to take a swig.

I must be getting more and more comfortable with silence because with Dylan, we resorted into just watching The Maine finish their set while drinking our respective drinks.

"You honestly look like you've aged about 10 years," he laughed, tilting the bottle and taking a gulp.

"Gee, thanks a lot," I rolled my eyes and chuckled slightly.

"Are you okay?"

"I told you I'm good."

"You're far from good, March," he shook his head and stared at me from head to toe. "You're tired as fuck."

"Am I? I can't feel it," I sat up straight just to prove that I wasn't.

"You obviously are. Mentally, at least."

I simply avoided his look and looked straight to the stage even if I was lost in my thoughts. The moment The Maine ended their set, we both agreed to go backstage so we could prepare to leave the venue in a little while. I walked mindlessly with Dylan following closely behind me.

What met us when we stepped into the corridor was a copper haired boy with his face buried on the side of some girl's hair. Her hands were wrapped around his neck and his one arm went around her waist, pulling her closer.

"You scared me, Gare. You didn't even return my calls," Carlile spoke as she pulled away from him.

He smiled crookedly as he rubbed his back to comfort her. "Sorry. There was trouble and I needed to fix it."

"Text me at least next time when you find yourself in trouble," she grinned and pressed her lips with his with her arms tightening once again around him.

I was completely frozen standing there until Dylan hung his arm around my shoulders and forced me to walk along. "Do you want dinner, March? It'll be our own little date," Dylan spoke, a little bit louder than how he usually talks. "Oh hey, Garrett. Carlile," he smirks at them as we pass by them and walks out of the building.

I avoided their looks when they turned to look at Dylan and stayed frozen until we got out.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked, stepping aside to put a small space between the two of us.

I didn't know. But I was getting used to lying to myself so I did. "I'm good."

***

"We thought you'd kill each other while you're in this tour. Little did we know that you two were going to runaway together in the middle of it," Jared laughed as he joked around the little incident that happened.

"You four try finding out that everything everyone has worked hard for might've been misplaced. Let's see all of you react to that," Garrett rolled his eyes and kept his gaze on his laptop while we were in the bus late at night to get to the next venue.

Good thing that I tried my hardest to condition my mind to think that that really was his intention for going with me. I had a little hope that we could be friends again, but I guess that wasn't happening anytime soon.

"I'm going to bed," you mumbled quietly and stood up from your seat to go to inside your bunk. As I jumped inside my bunk, I realized that I had forgotten my phone on the counter. I groaned and stood back up to get back to where they were and I was to open the door, when I once again became the queen of eavesdropping.

"Thanks for helping her out, Garrett," I could distinguish Kennedy's voice from where I stood. "You hate her, but thank you for being humane and helping her out."

"You're making it sound like I'm the worst person ever," I could imagine Garrett speaking with his eyes rolling.

"You definitely aren't the best." Jared. "The shit you gave her was more than enough."

"He's right. I should beat you up, man. You're the reason why my sister cried to sleep a lot of nights," I rolled my eyes, hearing John's voice.

Then it was silence for a short moment and I was about to just go through the door and pretend like I hadn't been listening to their conversation when Garrett speaks up again.

"I'm gonna try, okay? Just... Give me some time. I'm gonna try."