You're the Reason I Can't Control Myself

Our next show was in Pennsylvania. Since the venues were a good 4 and a half hours drive away from each other I was having a nice little nap on the van, feet up on the window frame, having an awesome dream and you know what happens?

“SEAN! Get off the bus!”

Yup. Bob. Bob happened, screeching like a fricken banshee at me to haul ass out onto the cold street. Turns out that our van crapped up and we were stuck in some sort of no-mans-land area between the two cities. It was urban, just…deserted. Fun.

Jay, brother/driver/general annoyance said that he’d hang around with one of Mars’ roadies for the mechanic and would call us when they arrived at the venue but there was no way that we could stay. We had cut time too thin to sit about on the middle of the street waiting for the AA…or AAA I think it is over here…I dunno ‘the man in the van with a spanner’, that sounds good, so Tomo ushered the six of us onto their bus.

Problem solved, right? Wrong.

Turns out that traffic isn’t just a problem in New York, it’s a problem here too; it’s a bloody problem everywhere. Having a big ass tour bus blocking the road really didn’t help, the fact it was only made for about 5 people, not 13 (two roadies and a driver), only made it worst so we needed to figure something out. Shannon, being good in a bad situation had a little brainstorm and suddenly told the driver to stop.

He pointed out across the sea of cars to a sign reading “subway”.

“We can just take the subway! We can find a stop near the venue and hop off there. It’ll be a lot faster than shuffling through this traffic and we won’t be as crammed.”

We all agreed. Except Rhys, there’s always one isn’t there? And it’s always a quiet one. “I thought that you get like…shoved about and end up standing in piss on the subway.”

Tomo blinked. “Yeah, what’s your point?”

Laughing it off both of our bands jumped off the bus and crossed the road in a steady stream of black clothes, long fringes and snazzy shoes. I let the Americans lead the way down the steps into the subway and the further I went down the more I was reminded of a giant, public toilet. I’m not even kidding. I know that not all subways can be like this, but this one was certainly horrible. There were grotty grey tiles all over the place, most of the stained or chipped, and the smell was worst than Snoz’s armpits after a few shower-less gigs.

Jared went and had a peer at the boards up to see when the next trains were while Gavin and Tomo attempted to understand the maps to see which stop was nearest our venue. I just hung about by Matt (30STM’s Matt, not my Matt) talking about…general stuff. In the end I stopped asking questions, I got too confused with his comment on how he was allergic to “yellow jackets” to carry on.
Turns out that “yellow jackets” is just a name for wasps, if you’re interested, he’s not actually allergic to yellow coloured hoodies or anything.

Eventually we had the route planned and it would only take about twenty minutes with a few stops along the way, we wouldn’t even need to change or anything. Which is good because I’d probably end up getting on the wrong train and end up in Cuba.

Only Snoz and Tomo actually got seats while the rest of us all stood up in two nice lines along on little carriage, giving the people behind us a lovely view of our tightly jeaned bums. Let’s just hope there aren’t any perverts here.

I kinda stood away from everyone, leaning against a yellow pole thing regardless of the scrawled ink of “your mom” and “fugly slag” that were written all over it. I grinned as Matthew had a little whine about Rhys holding the pole nearest them, stating that he felt unsteady. Poor kid. Gavin grinned up at me, standing a few places away in the middle of the train and starting to read a magazine, where he got it, I dunno.

After a few minutes of the train going ‘dundun-dundun-dundun’ down its track Jared slipped between a few people and took to standing next to me, gently gripping the pole with his hand and smiling. We hadn’t really talked since before his set last night, we’d said we’d meet up but he disappeared to his dressing room, then we were both with fans so it was kinda awkward.

“Hey,” Jared greeted.

“Oh. Hey,” I replied, looking behind me as the bearded guy that was seated there snored loudly, making the people either side of him get up and try and find somewhere else. Neither of us bothered sitting, I didn’t really want to talk over this bloke, having his hand so dangerously close to my thigh made me nervous enough.

Oh. Jared’s talking. “Uhm…you OK?” He asked. “You seemed a little…off last night. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything.”

“No. You didn’t,” I said, quietly. He wasn’t going to let this drop. I don’t know it I wanted to tell him, to be honest. I suppose it wouldn’t hurt and he did seem a bit worried about the whole It’s High Tide, Baby incident.

“OK. That’s good. I just…I didn’t want to bring it up, and now I have, but I thought I should…am I rambling?”

“A bit. Nah, Jared, its fine. I…” Do I tell him? I don’t see why not. Besides, if I told him about it I might be able to slip in my preferred sexuality. Maybe I was crazy…but….he did seem to like me. Even just as friend or something, he was just … there. No harm in trying. “My last girlfriend didn’t really get me, y’know. And she thought I was cheating on her. I wasn’t. But I was hiding something and…you really don’t want to know this, do you?”

He smiled sympathetically. “I don’t mind. Probably better of your chest.” I nodded, looking down at my bright red Nike’s in favour of actually seeing his reaction when I told him. I didn’t even really notice the reams of people around us; I doubt they’d care anyway.

“Yeah…maybe. I-I’m gay.”

I stuttered, half mumbling. Hell, I couldn’t even be sure if he heard me, deciding my shoes really weren’t going to help the situation, I peered up at him and saw him looking a little blank. At first I thought he’d totally zoned out and I was talking to a brick wall or something, but then I realised he was just processing it all. Thinking. God, being with thinking people is odd. I’m not used to it, Ian does it, maybe Gavin, but otherwise I’m used to people just spurting things at me.

That couldn’t sound more wrong.

“You’re…gay?” Jared asked, those blue eyes shining slightly in the overexposed lighting of the carriage.

“Yeah. And…she wasn’t exactly happy, she was so pissed that I lied to her that she just left and said she never wanted to see me again. Which…hurt, I suppose. But that’s kinda where the song comes from. Loving someone, obviously I wasn’t in love with her cos I wasn’t really…like that…but I loved her as a friend and shit” lovely articulation there Sean, “and she hated me.”

We were both silent, even the train started to become quieter as it slowed down, nearing a stop on our journey.

“I can’t ima---”

Jared was cut short as the train jolted, that wasn’t what interrupted him though. It was more the fact that only seconds before Matthew, who was stood near the door, had swayed dramatically with the change of force; the jar of the breaks eventually tipping him over the edge. Literally. The boy went flying, with nothing to hold onto his whole body lost control, balance forgetting its role and gravity shoving a big ‘fuck you’ in his face.

He tore past Gavin, flailing out for a hand, only to rip the main part of the magazine from Gavin’s grip, leaving him with just the corners grasped between his fingers as he stared down at the empty space in front of him; still trying to read. Matt glided comically, stumbling slightly, past me, a look of pure horror on his face as he did so. Skidding, he smacked into the door that joined the carriages and slid down it, landing on his ass.

His face was a picture, his eyes wide and staring, mouth thin and pursed tightly so he didn’t scream out. He looked like he was about to piss himself. He wasn’t the only one. Everyone, including strangers, burst into a chorus of laughter, unable to stop themselves and by fuck I was one of them. I clutched the pole tightly, giggling like a freak before repressing the hysterical urges and going to help the poor fucker.

“DID YOU SEE THAT?!” Matthew cried, chuckling madly as he slid further down the door while the train started to move again, almost lying down.

I grasped his hand and yanked him up, patting down his hoodie and brushing off the dust and grime that now rested on him.

“I think everyone saw that, Mattie,” I giggled. “You tard.”

I guided his laughing form past everyone who bit their lips and hid their faces to avoid blatantly embarrassing him further, he didn’t seem too bad actually but he did have a pink tint to his cheeks. I turfed Snoz from his seat and put Matt in it, still giggling slightly and telling him to just sit there; he nodded and rubbed his head where he whacked it.

“Silly twat,” I murmured as I took my place back next to Jared who wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

“He OK?”

“Yeah. He’s a bit of freak…if you didn’t notice,” I grinned, looking at Gavin who was now roaming around collecting up the pieces of his torn magazine.

“Ha. Sweet though.”

“Mmm.”

“You’ll never forgive me?” Jared quoted, suddenly. Oh, I’d totally forgotten that we were on about that. Matthew being a spaz has that effect on you. “Is that kinda what you meant with the lyric then?” I nodded. “I…Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories or anything.”

“No, it’s fine; honest…sorry for taking an emotional dump on you.”

He shook his head, laughing lightly. “Nah. What are friends for, eh?”

I smiled. Friends. Yay.