Every Night

Chp. 10

Wake up call the next day is really early, 3:30am to be exact. It's because the next show is tonight, and we still have to get there. I wake up and turn to see Wayne is already packed and ready to go, "Come on sleepyhead, I'm waiting on you!"

I stick my tongue out at him and say, "Fine. Why are you even up already?"

"Couldn't sleep."

"I'm sorry...."

"No it's fine, I just kept eye over you to make sure you were doing okay. How'd you sleep?"

"The nightmare came back again, but I'm used to it and I sat it through..."

"I guess that explains why I heard you whimpering a bit." He said, hugging me, "I kept you close all night."

"Love you Wayne."

"I love you too bud, but come on let's get ready before the others start to wonder where we are."

He comes around the bed and helps me get up, I just have to shove a few things in my suitcase and I'm ready. He takes my hand and we head down to the lobby. The others are already downstairs and I can just feel this vibe that none of us want to leave the real beds. We just sort of nod at each other, because we're too tired to talk, it's awkward.

The bus is parked right outside and we get on. Ben and Platz head straight to their bunks and go back to sleep. Me and Wayne turn to each other and just chuckle, "sleepyheads alright" Wayne whispers to me with a goofy smile. We sneak past the bunks and head to the back room study. He grabs his guitar and I open up my laptop and we just start creating. About a half hour later we hear Ben yell, "Be quiet I'm trying to sleep!" We just laugh and keep playing, but a little quieter just so we don't end up being smacked with a taco.

We arrive at the arena around 3:00pm. There's no time for interviews today and we hurry on up to the stage for sound check. I give a sigh of relief because they still have a chair for me, I'm started to get annoyed on how much I need help walking around, but I guess it's whatever. We make it through soundcheck quickly, because we're already running late.

As soon as we are done we head back to the green room. My head starts pounding with pain and I go to lay on the couch, it must be the lack of sleep I've had. I sorta just curl myself into a ball because my head hurts so much and whimper a bit, it doesn't help much but it's all I really can do.

Wayne and the others have been across the room talking about random things, when Platz taps Wayne on the shoulder and points to me. Even though they're across the room I can still hear Platz say, "I think he needs you...." He can't talk very quietly.

Wayne walks over to me and sits on the remaining cushion on the couch, since I'm balled up I don't take up the entire couch. He places his hand on my back and I look up at him. "What's wrong bud?" He asks me.

"My head," I say in a quiet voice, "it just won't stop hurting and I don't even know why, and I just want it to stop...." I cry a bit as I finish talking, but not much because it makes my head hurts even more.

He sits me up and sets my head on his shoulder, "Hey, hey it's okay buddy. You've been through a lot in the past few days, more than anyone should have to go through in that amount of time."

"First the nightmares, then the screwing up at the show, me ruining our day off, hitting my head, getting lost in the bad part of town, all along with more nightmares and pain. Just face it Wayne, I'm a giant screwup, I ruin everything I do and I can't do things right." I don't care that my head hurts, I just bury my face in his shoulder and cry.

After he lets me cry for a few minutes, he picks my head up, lifts up my chin, and looks me in the eyes. It's hard to see because my eyes are still blurry with tears. "Listen to me Dan, you are nowhere near a screwup, would a screwup give up a college degree to risk everything on music? Would a screwup stick to that passion for music even when money was tight? Would a screwup stay with his band mates through thick and thin? Would a screwup be able to return home to a loving wife and child at the end of the day? Would a screwup be able to get an entire to arena to chant his name just by standing on stage? Would a screwup be able to say he owns both a Grammy and a songwriting award? No. A screwup would never be able to say any of that, and if the did they would be lying. But Dan, you can say all those things and they're true. Dan you are, and will never ever be a screwup. You're a talented singer, and wonderful person, a selfless human, and most importantly you're my best friend, and you mean the world a million times over to me."

Tears are still streaming down my face but I manage to crack a huge smile though my red, tear-stained face. I
lean over to him and just give him a ginormous hug and tell him, "Wayne, I love you so much, I could never ever have asked for a better best friend than you. Thank you so much." I sit back up and look at him, and for the first time, I saw tears in his eyes.

I carefully wipe away his tears, and then my own. We just can't help but smile at each other. I give him another hug and say, "Nothing could ever replace you, I'm so glad you're in my life."

"Same to you buddy, same to you." He says in a voice resemblant of holding back tears. He hugs me again and then stands up and wipes his eyes with the collar of his shirt. "Wait a second," he says, "I've got something for you." He's got this goofy smirk on his face as he says it.

He walks over to a bag sitting on the chair and rummages through it a little bit, and then walks over to me. He first hands me water and Tylenol and I just say sarcastically, "Wow..... Such a surprise." It's impossible not to grin as I say it.

He still has his other hand behind his back and he says with a smirk, "one more thing..."

Removing his hand from behind his back, he places it in front of me and opens up his closed hand. Sitting in the palm of his hand is a small weaved bracelet, made with multiple shades of blue, my favourite colour.

I pick up the bracelet and slide it onto my wrist, I look up to him and say, "where'd you get this?"

He sat back down on the couch with me and said, "Before me and Platz got to the museum a few days ago, we passed by a small little craft store. I popped inside for a second and bought some different blue threads just to have around in case we needed it. So while you were unconscious, I didn't want to leave you alone, and I started messing with and weaving the threads, until I ended with that. I made it in the slim chance that we couldn't ever get you to awake, I could give you one last gift. But once you woke up, I hid it in my bag and tried to decide when I should give it to you, and I felt this to be the proper time. I love you Dan, please don't ever scare us that bad again, the entire time I was sitting there I had a constant fear rushing through me that I may never be able to say anything to you again."

I look at the bracelet again, and then back up at him, tears slowly stream their way out of my eyes. I bury my face against him and say between sobs, "I never, ever, ever want to lose you Wayne. I'm so sorry I scared you like that, and I promise, I'm not leaving anytime soon." I sit back up and place my hands on his shoulders, "I promise." I say again.

"And I won't leave you either Dan, now come on its almost showtime, show 'em what you cab do."

Him saying it like that makes me chuckle and a push his shoulders a bit and say, "you better not let my brother hear that or you cab end up with a big problem on you're hands, cabn't you?"

We both laugh, it's always good to get in a nice laugh. He stands up off the couch and helps me up. We walk out the green room hand in hand, and head out into the lights of the stage.