The drive wasn't as smooth as I expected. In the movies, touring bands have cool buses - spacious, sparkly, fun. Instead, we have a van. With only five seats, we just about squeezed in.
The instruments and luggage rattled behind us. A low hum from Red could be heard over the half static, half rock music on the radio, but only because we were sat so close. "You okay, gorgeous?" He asked, when I failed to move or speak or even breathe too loud for over an hour. His hand caressed my thigh in a way that should be seen as soothing, but it felt so far from that.
"Yeah." I nodded, peeking between the front seats to watch the sun rising on the horizon. I always get car sick when I travel, and the tight space between the guitarist and vocalist made me feel extra claustrophobic.
Two months on the road has felt like two years. I've only called Mum four times - using the excuses of being busy, tired, on the road and many more. All of which came from Green's mouth. He sits and watches, listening in on our conversations, like he expects me to cry for help.
I'm aware that I could. Theoretically, I could leave, but I'm holding out for a miracle. At the bottom of my suitcase, in a specific pink sock, lies a secret stash of cash and pages of written lyrics and diary entries. The fear of someone finding it grows bigger by the day, but the fear of being stuck in this endless cycle of travelling and preforming is much, much bigger.
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Romance✓ academic rivals ✓ enemies to lovers ✓ fake dating ✓ Many more of your favourite tropes <3 Lowen had been through hell and back to get to where she is now - one of the world's best upcoming music artists. But after releasing a few hit singles she k...
