A Single Moment of Sincerity

eleven.

WARPED TOUR 2011 - HELL? (SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH)

I woke up passed out in a random tour bus, three days later. I had no memory of the night before or the days proceeding that. All I could remember was the pain in my legs and head. I was hurting, really bad. I stumbled to my feet, rolling out of the bunk that I had someone ended up in. I couldn't tell where I was, but there wasn't anyone else in the bus, so I just stumbled my way into the kitchen area.

I pulled open the cabinet, revealing a couple bottles of wine and liquor. I just grabbed whatever was nearest. My heart was beating really, really fast in my chest as I downed whatever liquid was in the bottle. I hated myself. I wanted to die. No matter how much alcohol I drank, I was still there, still alive, for some reason.

After chugging a bit, I looked down at myself. I was just in a bra and a pair of mysterious boxer shorts. Then, there were my arms. Shock, well, drunken shock, bolted through my head. Up and down my right arm were cuts, over and over and over again. I didn't remember doing that to myself, but the proof was right in front of me. I rushed back to the random bunk, hoping more of my clothes were hidden in there. Nothing. Where were my clothes? Where was I? I hadn't cut in years and I, sure as hell, hadn't cut that bad even when I did. What had happened to make me react this way?

I couldn't remember.

Through the tinted windows, I could tell that it was daytime, probably earlier in the morning, and I could hear fans screaming and music playing. I needed to find out where my tour bus was and get dressed and ready to perform. The only problem with that, though, would be the fact that I was practically naked. Everyone would see that and everyone would see my cuts.

Oh, I could call Michael, maybe. I just needed to find my phone first. I rummaged through the bed again, finally locating my phone deep in the side of the cubby. It was almost out of battery, but just enough for me to make one call. I dialed my friend's number and waited. And waited, and waited. He didn't answer.

"Hi, Mike," I started, once the phone prompted me to leave a message. "Please come find me. I woke up in a tour bus, well, pretty much without my clothes, and I don't know who's bus and when we're playing and, ugh. Can you find me, please? I'm scared to go outside." I decided I would sit and wait for a few minutes, to see if he'd call back, so I collapsed on one of the couches near the front.

Curiosity got the best of me, however, and I started looking around the bus, trying to figure out where I was. My best guess was the Asking Alexandria bus, but this one was way too clean to belong to them. Maybe they actually cleaned up for once, but I doubted it. It would make sense if I ended up in their bus, but it wouldn't make sense that they would just leave me alone, without even a note, to wake up in surprise.

Michael never called me back, so I had to come up with a better plan. Just when I was about to take the risk and just run, exposing myself to everyone, someone opened the door to the bus. All I could really do was stand there and wait for my savior, or whoever, to appear, make themselves known to me.

It was James, of course.

"James," I gasped, in relief. He widened his eyes, seeing me standing there, in all my drunken, partially nude, glory.

"Bailey, you're awake," was all he got out. Another head poked their way in. This time it was Sam.

"Woah, a half-naked girl is waiting for us! Shit, it's our lucky day!" Sam beamed, laughing to himself. I choked out a smile, but didn't really know what to say. James hit him lightly on the head, but he was laughing too. They made their way inside the bus.

"Do you need some clothes or something? Where are yours?" James asked, being much more serious than Sam was. The latter was now pulling out his phone and calling someone, though I didn't hear him mention who.