I wake up with Jeordie still in my arms. I know he isn't asleep because I feel him shake ever so slightly. "We can stop the tour." I suggest. He'd going to have to start going for treatments anyway. He doesn't reply and I suspect that I am wrong about him being awake, but he reaches up to wipe tears away. "When do you start your treatments?" I ask, speaking softly. "In two weeks." He sniffs. "Will you tell me your thoughts on the first thing I said, please?" I ask. He sighs in response, "The band needs this. Ginger, Pogo, and Zim will be upset with me because it will be my fault that we don't continue the tour."
I turn him around so I can look at him, "Forget about them, Jeordie. Think about it. Treatments are going to run you down, I want us to spend time together before that happens." He considers what I say for a few minutes, tears still streaming down his pale face. He nods. I embrace him tightly. "Go tell the guys." He muffles into my chest. "I can do that later." I reply. "No, do it now. I need a few minutes to myself anyway." I sigh and get up, leaving him alone where we were laying. Zim, Ginger, and Pogo are in the makeshift living room of the bus, a beer bottle in each of their hands. They don't stop their coversation when I sit down on one of the couches beside Pogo, with Zim and Ginger on the couch opposite us.
I sigh loudly, "Guys, end your conversation for a moment. We need to talk." Pogo glares at me. "We're stopping the tour here. We're going to be on our way home once I inform Matt." They all stare at me for a few seconds before Ginger asks me the question everyone else was thinling about, "Why?" I decide to get right to the point.
"Jeordie has cancer. He's going for treatments in two weeks."
Zim makes a gasp that's almost inaudible. "If he doesn't have the treatments for two weeks, why are we ending the tour now?" Pogo asks, sounding a total ass.
"Because we are." I say through gritted teeth and then make my way to tell our bus driver, Matt, to take us back to Flordia.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We've finally arrived in Flordia. Only Jeordie and I are in the house right now. The rest of the band decided to go out after they unpacked.
"We didn't have to do this." Jeordie says, staring outside the window of our bedroom.
"Of course we didn't, but it was a good decision."
Jeordie nods in repsonse.
He comes over and sits criss cross on our bed that I'm laying on, in front of me.
"What if the treatments don't work? The letter said there's a chance they could." Before I can reply he speaks again, "I could die, Brian. I could die at any point." I shake my head,sqeezing my eyes shut at the thoight of Jeordie dying. "Don't say that. Don't ever say it again."
"But you have to consider it, Brian. It could happen."
I sit up and bury my face in my hands. "I'm sorry." Jeordie says, touching my back lightly. "Mhm." I mumble.
"So I want to make these two weeks the best two weeks of my of my life."
I look at him, "You're making it sound like you're actually going to die."
He ignores me and continues, "I want to do things. I want to live. I want to be my happiest, for these two weeks." His eyes look hopeless but his face shows determination. A confusing combination.
"Like a bucketlist?" I groan.
"Don't call it that, that'd too cliche." He gives me a small smile.
"I'll make sure these are the best two weeks of your life, but you're not going to die." I say, pecking his lips.
He smiles wider.
