Scratched

Twenty Four

TWENTY FOUR

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"Piper, how are you?"

My hand froze, hovering above my guitar. I had been nervous the last few days. Since the backlash at the concert a few days ago I had been expecting a call from Andrew, but he had never called. As the days had drug on I had gotten even more uncomfortable. I knew Eric had called him so why did he wait so long to return it? "Andrew!" I exclaimed, trying to calm myself down a little. I took a deep breath. "I'm fine. How about you?"

"I am doing well, but that is not why I called you today," he said crisply. The line filled with silence as I waited for what would inevitably come next. "I'm sure you are well aware that Eric called me. He said something about changing your songs, or some other. I would have called sooner if this had even been worth my time, which its not. As a musician I allow you to take over the creative part of your career. I offer guidance and build your career. Everything else is entirely up to you."

"I think that—wait. What?"

"Just as I've said," he told me.

"So you aren't mad?" I asked.

"Why should I be angry?"

I sat down on the edge of the bed, running my finger over the quilt that was stretched across it. "Eric said that I was a product. I thought that maybe you had full reign over my music," I explained to him. I was still pissed about that. A product—like I wasn't even a person. "I don't know. I wasn't sure what I thought. He made it seem like such a problem like I should just stick to what is written and nothing else."

"Yes, well I wouldn't give too much thought on anything Eric says. There is a reason he is only a manager. Let's just say his idea of what makes music doesn't match up to our here at Savage," he informed me. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he didn't care much for him. "I thought I would touch base with you despite how pointless the reason was. I was needing to as it was, espcially with the album drop nearing. I will be seeing you in Lechston soon. Hopefully not too road weary yet."

"Perish the thought," I said to him.

"As I suspected. Goodbye, Piper."

The call ended and I returned my phone back to its place on my bunk. I wanted to rub it in Eric's face, but I would take the high road. Well, I might rub it in—a little. Pleased and relieved to how everything had turned out I decided to steal the chance for a shower. I had been battling with the boys for one nearly every day. Every time I wanted to take a shower they would be in it, and they took forever. I rushed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

I turned it on and stepped in. The water rushed over me, loosing my muscles. I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall. I pushed my hair out of my face, blinking the water out of my eyes. I turned, reaching for the shampoo. I pulled one off the tiny shelf, popping open the lid. As I went to return it to the shelf I saw it. I sucked in a breath, nearly choking in surprise. I grabbed the clown figurine and threw it out of the shower and onto the ground.

He always hid it in the creepiest places. No telling how long it had been sitting there before anyone had noticed it. I cringed. Just then the door opened. I quickly covered what I could of myself. "What the fuck?" I called over the water. Didn't they ever knock? We've been sharing this bus for how long and they hadn't learned some sort of decency yet?

"Why were you squealing?" Ian asked.

I sighed. "I wasn't squealing!

"What would you call it then?" he said.

I didn't have time for this. I opted to ignore him. I rinsed out the rest of the shampoo out of my hair, and then I shut off the water. I quickly wrapped a towel around me, stepping out. Ian held up the clown, raising an eyebrow at me. "Uh, what's this?" he asked me. He was holding it gingerly, like he was afraid to be touching it. "Do I even want to know?" I gaped at him, hitting his arm.