Under My Thumb // Mick Jagger

005

I wake up to the sound of people talking. The sun shines through the window on the other side of the bus and into my eyes. I look away immediately and sit up.

The first thing I notice is that I had another blanket on me over top of the brown one from Mick's bunk. This one must've been from Mick as well since there was no blanket on the couch he slept on last night.

"Morning, Maria," Keith greets me. He was sitting on the other couch along with Charlie and Brian. I look around for Mick but couldn't find him anywhere. Maybe he actually did go back to his bunk last night. I did see Bill sitting at the table, though.

"Good morning," I say. I bring my feet up on the couch and hold them to my chest. All I really wanted right now was for Mick to be here. He made me feel safest, despite him being the most intimidating of all the guys.

"Mick should be back soon. He went to pick up some food," Charlie speaks up. It was like he read my mind and knew Mick was the first thing I would be thinking of.

I nod my head and keep my gaze low to avoid making eye contact with anyone. If Mick let me stick around long enough, I knew I'd have to get used to everyone, but my anxiety would probably delay that process as long as possible.

The guys start talking to each other, which I couldn't be more grateful for. It felt like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I know they're all nice people, but I didn't want all their attention on me—especially not right after I wake up. The TV was turned on with a random show playing quietly in the background, and I tried to distract myself for the time being by watching it.

But I only had a couple minutes to myself before Keith speaks up. "Slept late, didn't you? It's nearly twelve," he points out. I look away from the TV to make sure I was the one he was talking to, and, sure enough, he was looking over at me when I do.

I grab the blanket that was draped over my lap and hold it in my fists nervously. "Sorry," I whisper, unsure of what else to say. I don't usually sleep too late, but I wasn't able to fall asleep until around five in the morning.

Keith chuckles. "Eh, don't worry about it. We hardly have anything we need to do before our gigs at night," he says. "Mick might tell you otherwise, though. He likes to think we've always got stuff to do. That man doesn't know what he's talking about half the time."

I try to stop the smile that was creeping onto my face and pull the blanket up to cover my mouth. It was weird hearing someone say that about Mick. After knowing Mick for a day, I don't think anyone would have the courage to say something like that about him. I guess it makes sense, though—Mick and his band mates seemed pretty close.

The thing that scared me most about staying with Mick is not being able to comfortably talk with and be around him. I didn't want to feel nervous around him, and I know he didn't want that either, but I always seem to feel anxious when I think about him.

I notice Keith had a smile on his face, too. He seemed happy he was able to make me smile, even if I tried to hide it. I watch him as he gets up and walks over to the mini fridge.

"Maria, a water?" He asks, holding a bottled water up for me to see.

I nod my head, just now realizing how thirsty I was. I haven't had anything to drink since yesterday when I was still in school. He tosses the bottle toward me and it lands next to my legs on the couch. "Thank you," I say just as the bus door opens.

Mick walks in carrying a couple bags in his hand. He places them on the table before picking up the water bottle Keith had just given me and taking a seat in its place—right next to me. Something about how close we were made my heart race, but, at the same time, I felt much calmer with him around.