Colors Between Us

The Apology

"Lia..." A light voice sounds from beside me.

"Hmm?" I groan, exhausted from the lack of sleep over the night. No one warned me that sleeping on a tour bus would be that uncomfortable.

"We are at the hotel. The team already grabbed the bags, we just have to get our keys." Izalea nearly whispers.

My eyes open to the sight of the blonde crouching in front of me. Her hair is in a messy bun on top of her head, but as usual, she has somehow made comfy clothes look like they would be worn to Paris Fashion Week. She's matching a long sleeve black crop top with a pair of leggings. A few necklaces lie on her neck and her face is clean of makeup but she's effortlessly gorgeous regardless.

"She's awake, Skylar." She yells into the main room, standing up from her squat position.

I push the thin sheets off of me and sit up, immediately hitting my head on the low ceiling of my bunk. "Oh fuck." I groan, rubbing the spot that hit the wood.

Izalea turns to me with a sympathetic frown. "You'll get used to it eventually." She leans in and rubs her thumb over the top of my head before she walks out of the room.

I stand from the bed, making sure I avoid hitting my head against the ceiling yet again. My arms extend out to stretch the night away, a small yawn leaving my mouth. I lean down and fix the sheets as neatly as possible before grabbing my canvas bag from the floor and walking out of the door.

The main room is empty of people but full of red solo cups and empty liquor bottles that are strewn across the floor and couch. I can only guess who caused the mess, but before I can jump to conclusions Skylar interrupts me. "Grey did half after you went to bed, Archer did the other when Grey went to sleep."

My eyes widen. "Do they usually go through bottles this easily?" I ask, slightly concerned and fascinated that their livers are functioning.

Skylar brushes his hair back and huffs. "Some nights are worse than others. Last night being one of them."

"Ouch."

"Yeah, you'll get used to it eventually. I mean we have a cleaning crew for a reason." He reasons as he walks towards the front door.

I follow in the taller boy's path and exit from the bus, meeting the hot and humid air of the Sunshine State. A few palm trees run down the street, given that we are in the city. A small breeze runs down my bare legs but the rays of the Sun beaming down level out the sensation.

An older man with a scruffy beard and a security vest runs up to my side. "Put your hood up and come with me." He demands. As we walk from the side of the bus I notice a large crowd in front of the hotel entrance.

I breathe out a shaky breath and begin to walk with the bodyguard. His hand lies high on my back, quickly guiding me towards the lobby. As we are walking I can't help but pick up on some of the questions that are thrown out at me. "How do you know the band?" and "Do you know Milania?" are the most prominent of the crowd. I duck my head lower, trying to avoid the eyes on me, and walk into the hotel.

The band is nowhere to be seen, most likely in their rooms to avoid the raging crowd. The man who ushered me into the hotel walks to the front desk and grabs a card from the receptionist.

"Here is your key. If you need anything call reception and they will send it up." He instructs, handing me my card. "Oh and before you go up, I need your phone number so the band can contact you." I grab the pen from his hand and sloppily write down my phone number, shooting him a soft smile before walking towards the elevator.

When the door opens I step inside and hit the number 8 on the wall. The door opens and I drag my legs to the number on the card I was given. I insert the key and with a small click, the door unlocks. My hand pushes the door open and I step inside, my breath hitching in my throat. The curtains are wide open and the view of not only the city but the beach is visible. The light reflecting off of the buildings and Crystal water lighten up the room.