The British Nightmare - An Ice Nine Kills Story

Chapter 3

I didn't sleep much last night, if at all. I know Spencer didn't, nor did Ricky. I think the other boys ended up just hiding in their bunks until they passed out. I heard Ricky and Spencer talking, drinking and intensely panicking. All night long. Spencer didn't stop pacing and Ricky didn't move from this spot on the sofa he still remained on. Silence and TV noise filled the whole bus. Every so often there was some murmuring from the boys, but too quiet and fast spoken to hear what they had to say. For the first time in the last few hours, I dare to check the time. 

6:05 in the morning. Is that it? 

I give up with lying in bed and roll out and make my way to the toilet for a long-needed toilet break and a splash of water on my face. I'd done a lot of crying as I'd laid there, so I looked a bit like a ball of scrunched up paper. After a long time of zoning out after I'd used the toilet, a faint knock sounds from the door,

"Y/N, you okay?" a voice asks, who I presume is Spencer,

"Yeah, I'm okay, just couldn't sleep." I respond as I sheepishly open the door.

I unlock the door and open it slowly, ensuring not to hit the pretty fragile and almost scared man stood behind it. We lock eyes for a quick second, before he falls into my arms, bawling like a small child who'd woken up from a bad dream. I didn't really know what to do, so I just placed my arms around him, one hand resting on the back of his head and the other stroking his back. I got the vibe from him that he isn't really a showing his emotions type of guy, so he also didn't really know what to do or say.

He stood up, wiped his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths,

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. I guess I needed that. I'm not a crier usually. I'm sorry." He says, lowering his head in shame. 

I felt horrible looking at this usually cool, swagger-filled rockstar becoming nothing but mere dust in my arms. I've also never been the type to really know how to deal with people showing raw emotion in front of me. Empathy has never been the issue, I can feel bad for people, if anything I feel too much empathy and sympathy, I guess I've just always been bad at knowing what to do when people are crying, so a hug is usually all I can offer.

He took a step back, rubbed his face with his hands, and took one last deep breath before taking the chance to step outside of the bus to smoke a cigarette. I slowly walked into the room where Ricky was still sat in a ball on the sofa, trying not to crack also,

"Hey," I said calmly as I sat next to him,

"Hey...holding up okay?" He asked me, every word he said getting more and more choked up.

"As well as any of us can be right now, you?" I spoke, worried that he was about to erupt into uncertain emotion in the way Spencer just did, 

"All I can say is the same thing. Any sign of the other guys yet?" Ricky asks in a quiet tone.

I took a moment to cast back, just to jog my memory,

"No, I mean, I don't think they slept any better than us, so they're most likely still pitched up in their bunks, avoiding any kind of human interaction 'til they're ready. I'd be doing the same if I wasn't so worked up about this whole thing, and concerned about you and Spencer." 

My words made Ricky hang his head even lower than before, covering up his attempt to not show more emotion. He took a deep breath just before the bus door swung open.

"What?! They can't just fucking do that to us man, what the fuck!...No, no I-I get it...Look can I just...yeah, just let me talk to the guys...whatever man, I'll call back soon." Spencer slammed the door shut, with seemingly all of the pain and anger he had within himself. I stood up just as Ricky did, both of us equally as confused as each other.