The Edge Of Yesterday

Chapter 18

The release of our EP went well. It sold a decent amount of copies, around 2,400 on it's first week of being released. 

We played our first show of the tour at a bar here in New York. We had gotten the same adrenaline rush in the show as before - it was familiar, but felt new as well. It felt good. 

We didn't know what to do with Rusty, so we decided to take him on tour with us. For now, he was staying back at Alex's-and-I's apartment. After the show was over, we would pick him up and take him in the tour bus with us. 

Before the show was starting, the rest of the group and I were hanging out together, smoking a cigarette and talking. While we were sharing the puffs of our cigarette, Rosie got approached by a group of guys again. It was that same group of guys who were there at out very first show. 

Rosie looked up at him. "Hey." 

Johnny sat down besides her. "You seem to have made it pretty big. Good." 

"Hell yeah, I did." she said. "It's fun." 

"You and the band are good." 

"I know." she stuck out her tongue at him. 

They continued making small talk with each other, and eventually, Johnny took out a small packet of something. 

"What's that?" Rosie gestured at the packet. It wasn't very big - only about the size of Johnny's hand. 

"Pills." Johnny replied. "You want some?"  

"What do you think?" she responded, "How much are they?" 

"Since you have the privilege of being my friend, you can have some for free." 

"Thanks, man." Rosie said casually.

I should've done something to stop them, but I didn't. I didn't want to bee too jealous, too possessive over Rosie. She was only speaking to one of her friends. But those pills, those damned pills.

He passed her the packet, and Rosie swallowed the pills, taking them with a scrunched up bottle of water that Johnny has passed her. I'm pretty sure that Johnny had already drunken some it it - I grimaced at the thought of all his saliva in the water bottle, but I tried to not let it get to me. 

He continued talking to Rosie about godknowswhat for the next 4 minutes before it was time for us to get onto the stage, 

It was then when the show started. The chords of the first song began playing, radiating through the air. I began singing. We decided to start the show with one of our older songs "Midnight". 

As the music filled the air and the crowd cheered, Rosie's energy on stage was electric. She moved with a newfound intensity, the sounds of her bass soaring through the venue, positively captivating everyone and everything in hearing distance of it. Although I was proud of her - she was talented, I felt concerned, knowing that she had just taken those pills. I hoped it wouldn't affect her performance or her well-being.

As the set progressed, I noticed a change in Rosie's behavior. Her movements were more erratic, her expressions exhilarated and restless. It was as if the pills had unlocked something else within her, but that something was not a good thing. 

I couldn't shake off my unease, but I tried my best to focus on singing, pouring my heart and soul into each note. The audience responded with enthusiasm, unaware of the underlying tension.

During one of our other songs, "Burning Memories", Rosie took an unexpected detour. She deviated from the planned arrangement, adding her own improvised twists and turns. At first, it seemed like an inspired moment of artistic expression. But as the song progressed, her deviation became more pronounced, her vocals straying from the melody and the rest of the band struggling to keep up. She knew this song well too - we had played it many, many times before, and the chords weren't very complex as well. This badly added to my nerves. 

I exchanged glances with the other band members, a mixture of confusion and concern mirrored in their eyes. We tried to adapt, to make it seem like meant to be in the performance, but the  Rosie exuded made it challenging to regain control.

As the song reached its climax, Rosie took off his bass, but it on the floor, and dived into the crowd. The audience caught her, their hands lifting her momentarily as she surfed the sea of outstretched arms.

When she returned to the stage, disheveled and breathless, the crowd erupted with applause and admiration. They interpreted all of this as part of the show. I mean, a majority of shows by punk bands were all chaotic and disorganized. It wasn't that serious. 

But I was still worried. She wasn't usually like this. What even were those pills she took? 

After the show ended and we gathered in the backstage area, Rosie's demeanor shifted again. She sat on a bench, her back and shoulders slumped, the adrenaline of the performance subsiding, leaving behind a sense of emptiness. She sat quietly, lost in her thoughts, staring blankely in the distance. 

"Rosie?" I asked her. I wouldn't sat next to her, but almost out of nowhere, that Johnny fucker came and sat next to her. Rosie seemed to have somewhat snapped out of the trance she was in, and began saying something to him, but it sounded like gibberish. 

When he left, and Rosie was left alone with me, I couldn't help but glare at her. I was annoyed, I was frustrated, but most of all, I was just upset. 

"Rosie." I said, folding my arms. "What the hell did you take?" 

She laughed. "Pills." 

"What kind of pills?" 

She laughed again, only more hysterically this time. "Oh, you know. Pills." 

"For fucks sake, Rosie." 

"I'm fine, babe. Totally fine." she spun around. "The music is lovely, isn't it?" 

I sighed. "I never want you to take whatever those were again, do you hear me?" 

Rosie's laughter echoed through the backstage area, a mix of delirium and detachment. She stood up, stumbling towards me, her eyes glazed over with a distant gaze. "You worry too much," she giggled, spinning around me. "I'm just exploring new dimensions, expanding my horizons. It's a good thing, isn't it?"

I grabbed her by the shoulders, my frustration boiling over. "What's up with you?! You're speaking like a - like a - whatever! Just stop. You're scaring me." 

Her laughter faded, and for a brief moment, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. She reached out to touch my face, her touch wavering and uncertain. "I know you care," she said, "But I just wat to have fun, Avril." 

I held her gaze, torn between my love for her and my fear for her safety. "Can't you just stick to beer and cigarettes?" 

"I'm not going to get addicted." she responded surely.  

I hugged her tightly, feeling the weight of the moment between us. "Please don't" 

Rosie nodded, still looking sure of herself. "Baby, I won't. Chill.' 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tour continued. During that tour, we'd drink, we'd hang out, we'd play our songs (both the older ones and newer ones), almost got arrested again, and attracted some more people at our shows. 

Whenever we played, we would leave Rusty in the tour bus. Our shows were loud, deafening even, and since dogs are sensitive to loud noises, we couldn't take him into the venues with us. It would be like hell for him. Instead, we he would be left behind in the bus, with the windows slightly open and Bowie's Diamond Dogs playing on Rosie's cassette tape. It seemed to be Rusty's favorite album - he would always start wagging his tail gleefully whenever he heard a song off of it. We were sure that he was comfortable - he had water, 2 chew toys, a couple of treats, and the music playing, along with his blanket to snuggle into. He was okay. 

And as we took to the stage once again, the music swelled, enfolding us into its embrace. This was exactly how it was meant to be - Bones, Rosie, Alex, and I (and Rusty!) all playing together, living our lives. It was all so... perfect.