The Biggest Fan
Shh, Don't Cry.
Trying to control my voice, which now was shaking, I asked Jepha where Quinn and Dan were.
"Uhm... I think they are- oh, no! Fuck! The sound check!"
I could see his eyes bulge as he jumped up from the bed, holding his towel tight as it almost fell off his waist.
"I can't be late! God, it's almost 5 pm!", he continued.
"Well, you better hurry, then", I encouraged him, seeing him run into the bathroom.
He came out only a couple of seconds later, fully dressed and ready to go.
"I'll see you in a couple of minutes, okay, Lina?"
"Yeah, take your time. I'll just be here inside the bus".
As Jepha headed out of the bus, it was only me left.
I couldn't stop thinking of why Bert earlier was so upset.
Again, I thought of what I might've done to cause his pain, and then the tears came.
I buried myself under the covers in the king-size bed, hoping to sink into it.
"Click!"
A door knob. The door knob to the tour bus.
"Hey, hey, hey!", I heard a voice say as I saw Bert running towards the bed where I was lying.
He sat down next to me, immediately putting down his skateboard on the floor.
I was shaking like a leaf in an autumn storm, unable to control myself from crying or shivering.
"What's the matter?", he asked, pushing the covers away so he could see my face, for then to look at me with his crystal blue, bright eyes.
Somehow, I could see the pain in them as they met mine.
"Hush, don't cry. What's the matter?", Bert asked once more, placing my head in his lap.
"I-I-I-I…”, I tried to answer, but I just couldn’t. So I just lay there, in his lap, feeling him stroking through my hair with his fingers.
It was almost as if our pain was mutual. I sensed it. There and then.
“Bert?”, I said, sniffing and trying to stop my nose from running.
“Yeah?”
He has stopped stroking my hair now. Instead, I could feel him stroking my cheek.
Gently, up and down.
“Why did you go skateboarding?”
At that point, he stopped stroking my cheeks. I heard a sigh and then he put his hands on his lap, one on each side of my head.
“Well…”, he started.
I could sense in his voice that this was hard for him to talk about.
“It’s just that”. He paused, taking a deep breath for then to continue.
“I have a lot on my mind right now”.
I knew that was on his mind. I knew.
But at that moment, nothing in the world could let Bert know that.
“Oh, I see. Is there something I can do?”
“No, not at all…”
The way he said that just gave me goose bumps.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the sound check with the others?”, I then asked him, trying to change the subject.
“No”, he responded. “I did it before I went skatin´”.
“I’m sorry if I’m being so demanding. I’d understand you if you’d get sick of me”, I suddenly blurred out, almost apologetic.
“Why would you say that?”, he asked, looking down at me.
“I don’t know. Because I make everyone around here feel awkward. I must be a shitty roadie”.
“What a load of crap. Stop sayin´ that. You’re the best god damned roadie we’ve ever had. And we’ve had a few back when we were new established and all. It’s been a while now, though, but trust me, you’re the best one we’ve ever had”.
Bert made me smile by saying that. Not with the words he used, but by the way he said it.
It just made me smile.
I tucked my head down in his lap, feeling his hand, again stroking through my hair.
I could almost smell the tobacco scent on his fingers as they were working their way through my roots.
It was strange; at that point, all the feelings I’d had for Bert as an artist suddenly faded away.
He wasn’t the sex symbol with the awesome voice in my favorite band anymore.
Now, he was a friend. A friend I could trust.
A friend I would give my life for to save.
He was Bert.
"Uhm... I think they are- oh, no! Fuck! The sound check!"
I could see his eyes bulge as he jumped up from the bed, holding his towel tight as it almost fell off his waist.
"I can't be late! God, it's almost 5 pm!", he continued.
"Well, you better hurry, then", I encouraged him, seeing him run into the bathroom.
He came out only a couple of seconds later, fully dressed and ready to go.
"I'll see you in a couple of minutes, okay, Lina?"
"Yeah, take your time. I'll just be here inside the bus".
As Jepha headed out of the bus, it was only me left.
I couldn't stop thinking of why Bert earlier was so upset.
Again, I thought of what I might've done to cause his pain, and then the tears came.
I buried myself under the covers in the king-size bed, hoping to sink into it.
"Click!"
A door knob. The door knob to the tour bus.
"Hey, hey, hey!", I heard a voice say as I saw Bert running towards the bed where I was lying.
He sat down next to me, immediately putting down his skateboard on the floor.
I was shaking like a leaf in an autumn storm, unable to control myself from crying or shivering.
"What's the matter?", he asked, pushing the covers away so he could see my face, for then to look at me with his crystal blue, bright eyes.
Somehow, I could see the pain in them as they met mine.
"Hush, don't cry. What's the matter?", Bert asked once more, placing my head in his lap.
"I-I-I-I…”, I tried to answer, but I just couldn’t. So I just lay there, in his lap, feeling him stroking through my hair with his fingers.
It was almost as if our pain was mutual. I sensed it. There and then.
“Bert?”, I said, sniffing and trying to stop my nose from running.
“Yeah?”
He has stopped stroking my hair now. Instead, I could feel him stroking my cheek.
Gently, up and down.
“Why did you go skateboarding?”
At that point, he stopped stroking my cheeks. I heard a sigh and then he put his hands on his lap, one on each side of my head.
“Well…”, he started.
I could sense in his voice that this was hard for him to talk about.
“It’s just that”. He paused, taking a deep breath for then to continue.
“I have a lot on my mind right now”.
I knew that was on his mind. I knew.
But at that moment, nothing in the world could let Bert know that.
“Oh, I see. Is there something I can do?”
“No, not at all…”
The way he said that just gave me goose bumps.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the sound check with the others?”, I then asked him, trying to change the subject.
“No”, he responded. “I did it before I went skatin´”.
“I’m sorry if I’m being so demanding. I’d understand you if you’d get sick of me”, I suddenly blurred out, almost apologetic.
“Why would you say that?”, he asked, looking down at me.
“I don’t know. Because I make everyone around here feel awkward. I must be a shitty roadie”.
“What a load of crap. Stop sayin´ that. You’re the best god damned roadie we’ve ever had. And we’ve had a few back when we were new established and all. It’s been a while now, though, but trust me, you’re the best one we’ve ever had”.
Bert made me smile by saying that. Not with the words he used, but by the way he said it.
It just made me smile.
I tucked my head down in his lap, feeling his hand, again stroking through my hair.
I could almost smell the tobacco scent on his fingers as they were working their way through my roots.
It was strange; at that point, all the feelings I’d had for Bert as an artist suddenly faded away.
He wasn’t the sex symbol with the awesome voice in my favorite band anymore.
Now, he was a friend. A friend I could trust.
A friend I would give my life for to save.
He was Bert.
♠ ♠ ♠
i'm back, people! : Dman, it's good to be home again.
still, the azores was fucking amazing, but nothing beats my own room.
i've hated the fact that i couldn't update when i was there, so now that
i'm finally home; here you have it.
did you like the update? (:
xo,
lina.