Earth to Me

Gas station burritos have a certain kind of character to them. I’m not sure what it is, but I like it. You never really look at someone eating a microwavable burrito and think to yourself, “Man, I bet that person really has their life together,” unless they’re a specific kind of person: a touring musician. Even then, it’s a hit or miss, depending how successful they are.

With Put’emup, Put’emup and Violence Ladies, it was a hit. Even though touring was definitely making more money than it lost, it was just overall more convenient for us to hit up rest stops on the road for our dinner. The bus’s plumbing suffered a bit because of it, but…uh…we were alive, and that was all that mattered.

One night in particular, we had stopped at a Heaven-Eleven in Arizona after an especially awesome show. Most of us were stretching our legs or using the bathrooms before turning in for the night; showers were sparse since there was only one in the whole bus, and it was mostly used by the crew because the band normally got to shower at whichever venue we were at.

I was squinting at the bright fluorescent lights that hung above the frozen snacks. I was about to fall over from exhaustion; I had a wicked headache brought on by dehydration, but I was working to fix it. A bunch of fake-sounding Spanish names printed on colorful plastic wrappers stood in front of me.

Every brand tasted the same, so I just got the biggest one – a dollar. Tegan and I made enough tips that night to cover that for sure, and she had already gotten a box of nachos and cheese from the place.

I stood up and almost walked into Anthony, who was apparently standing right next to me, and as I bumped against him, I coughed, “Sorry,” out of pure instinct.

“You disgusting little traitor,” he hissed, narrowing his deep-set eyes right at me, directly into my soul. “How the fuck can you do this? How can you betray us like that?”

I’m sure I was a sight, a stammering chubby guy in a Put’emup, Put’emup hoodie and gym shorts. All the blood drained from my extremities and I actually dropped the burrito I was holding. “Wh-what? What’d I d-do?”

He laughed. Anthony Alvarez, genius with a freezing-cold demeanor, actually opened his mouth and laughed right at me, putting both hands on my shoulders. “Oh my God, dude. I’m talking about the burrito – that fake-ass thing you’re about to buy. The moment you eat that, every Hispanic person on the planet is just gonna burst into tears. Your family, my family, Hayden’s – even Andy’s, and he’s only fuckin’ half-Brazilian. That’s how much it’s gonna hurt.” (Hayden was the drummer for Violence Ladies, and yep, she was Mexican, just like me.)

“Oh,” I breathed, picking up my fake burrito again. (I don’t care, it tasted good.)

“What the hell did you think I was talkin’ about?” he jeered, still with his hands on my shoulders as I started walking to the cash register.

I shrugged. “Oh, uh, I dunno. I was just scared in general, I guess.”

He snorted a laugh again and then just patted my back. “You’re a keeper. Next time we tour and you don’t have school, we wanna recruit the four of you again.”

“That sounds good,” I smiled, eyeing the colorful candy in the aisle next to me. Good? It sounded great.

It was a nightly thing, basically. After heading out from the venues, we’d stop at the nearest gas station to get our dinner and just eat it on the road. When it was all said and done, we would chug along to the next city, my ears still ringing from all of the constant concerts and orders shouted around my head. Most of the time, dinner was late – anywhere from midnight to two in the morning – and bedtime was even later.

I would’ve dreaded waking up early if it was for school, but this was different. I was learning things that I wanted to know and I was surrounded by people I knew and liked. It was a nice break from career preparation, anyway, and I got a free concert every night.

And yeah, there were things I learned about Put’emup, Put’emup that I probably could’ve gone my entire life without knowing if I hadn’t toured with them. I definitely saw more than enough when they got drunk one night and bought a stripper pole to put right in the middle of the front lounge. (Seeing certain penises can really change you, trust me.)

I learned about their warmup habits, like how Andy and Anthony did vocal warm-ups together, and how Violence Ladies’ singer, Brianna, did her warm-ups backstage. Chance took an hour-long power nap before every show, and Mick limbered up with Samantha, the ladies’ bassist, and Hayden, their drummer. Winter, their cool and collected guitarist, just practiced during soundcheck.

The crew would help the shows go as smoothly as possible, and even though Tegan and I were stuck at the merch booth during each show, we would still do our part in making sure everything was unloaded and loaded safely.

There were things that Put’emup, Put’emup knew about Violence Ladies and vice versa, of course. I wasn’t briefed on all of those things, but I could definitely infer, judging from the fact that they were no strangers to touring with each other.

Apparently, one of those things happened to be the truth behind Put’emup, Put’emup’s stellar live shows featuring elemental powers.

I’m not sure why I was so surprised to walk onto the bus one afternoon to see Chance pouring Brianna a glass of water right from his fingertips, but when I laid eyes upon the scene, I literally jumped back and almost screamed. He was in broad daylight doing something all of us had been told to keep under wraps – of course it was a shock in the moment, although later on I told myself that they had probably been through much worse things with each other.

Chance nodded and smirked at me while I was holding my chest in absolute terror. “Hey Osh.”

“You’re – water – power – c-can’t -” I helplessly stuttered.

“Oh, we know all about that crap at this point,” Brianna said, waving her arm. She took a sip of the water and then rolled her eyes. “I heard it from Andy first.”

“She doesn’t believe us,” Chance laughed. “Andy told her, and she still doesn’t believe it.”

“You say that as if Andy doesn’t have a habit of exaggerating literally everything,” Brianna deadpanned.

I licked my lips and tried to get some moisture back in my mouth so I could talk properly. “So – so we can just use our powers right in front of them?”

Brianna snickered sharply while Chance shrugged. “Hell, I don’t see the harm in it. I told Winter and Hayden and Samantha a while back and I don’t think they believe us.”

“Yeah, I’m interested to see this lightning you’ve got, Oshie,” Brianna said, cocking her head at me as she leaned against a counter.

As a natural reaction, I blushed and tweaked my hair. “Uh…I don’t know if that’s safe…”

“Just don’t touch me, ‘cause water conducts electricity,” Chance winked.

I wasn’t set on doing it in the first place, but a look flashed across Brianna’s pretty face and she held her hand up. “Wait, wait – you might not wanna do your lightning thing. I don’t know what you use to make it look like you’re shooting sparks, but it’s probably not safe.”

Chance clicked his tongue. “Aw, but he’s so good at it. He’s even kinda dangerous.”

I didn’t quite give him a dirty look, though I made sure to give him some kind of blank stare. The Put’emup, Put’emup guys definitely didn’t know about the power surges I had most likely caused back in college, and if Chance had known that, he probably wouldn’t have said anything.

Everybody else had elements in their control that they could use for good or for their own convenience. Why did I have to end up with one that could easily kill someone with one little slip-up of control? I can joke about it all I want, but sometimes it really did feel like the universe was working against me in any way it could.