You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb [ruby da cherry]

You Can't Borrow It Because I'm Playing It

By the time the NYC show was over and we set off to the next city, I was a mess all over again. Yes, being in the city felt great, but there were also some not so great feelings that being there brought to the surface. And, in my quest of the seven signs, I still found nothing new. It was really discouraging; all of it happening at once and all the overthinking, and it made me less than present. People were taking notice, which meant more attention was on me, which meant I was even more uncomfortable and awkward than normal.

Because of this, the guys and the management team decided to wait until twelve hours beforehand to tell me that we all had to take a flight to get to the next location in time. Which, of course, made me spin out more. On the bright side, it was a smaller, private flight, so the overwhelming aspect of being in the midst of a bunch of random strangers with screaming babies was thankfully taken out of the equation. I did my best to try and only focus on tonight's show, but it proved very difficult. It was like my brain was turning off on me like an idle computer monitor -- I could barely focus on applying my stage makeup or picking out the right clothes to wear. Eventually, though, I looked fine. Not as good as I wanted or needed, but it would have to work.

Before I went out to join the rest of the guys to go into the venue, the crystal ring in my jewelry bag caught my eye. I had been wearing it when the first sign appeared, and something in me told me to try it today. Maybe it was required in order for a sign to show up? We sound ridiculous. But... I have no better ideas. Slipping the ring on, I took a breath before grabbing my things and getting out of the bathroom. Once out and amongst the others, Max's gaze immediately went to my ring, but he didn't make any smart remarks, he just looked back at his phone. This was weird for Max, and all day beforehand he was acting almost like a normal person; no retard moments or stupid teasing to be found. We hadn't even really talked since our day off in the city, and it stressed me out more than I needed. Is he mad at me or something? I didn't know he was even capable of that emotion.

To the best of my ability, I shook it off. I already had enough on my mind without having to worry about Max being weird -- he's always weird, this was just a different type. Before long, we all made it into the venue for the sound check and preparations. A couple of the guys asked me if I was okay, and I just nodded along and squeaked out 'yeah's. Going through the motions of all pre-show antics, it was like I was on autopilot. And, in my opinion, autopilot is a lot better than a panic attack. Soon, I could hear the muffled noise of the crowd from the thin walls of the backstage area. I watched as stagehands and security came funneling in and making sure everyone was ready, as Max got his energy up and camera ready, as the guys and the crew and the managers all talked amongst each other. I felt like I was in a bubble, watching everything happen around me but at the same time being completely separate from it all. I only snapped out of it when I was called over to the door and given my earpieces.

I heard Kev shout "Good luck!" as the security opened the door to the wings and I was ushered out. My mind was too blank to think up a simple reaction in time, and I cursed myself for being so mentally out of it. Fidgeting with the ring with my thumb and pinky, I focused on the physical feeling of the metal and rock against my skin, instead of the screams and chants from the crowd. I grabbed my mic and took a deep breath, exhaling on the stagehand's backward count from five.

I ran out onto stage and started my first song, trying to keep some energy up. This was probably one of the hardest parts of performing; if your energy isn't there, neither is the crowd's. And, sometimes, no matter how hard you go, the crowd still might not reciprocate. After my first song was over, I took a second to gauge the vibe of the audience, scanning and asking how the city was feeling -- the usual. And the crowd was usual, too, until it wasn't. A wave of disbelief and overwhelm hit me like a ten-ton truck as I looked into the crowd and saw a fan holding up a literal fucking sign which read "VIVIAN & RUBY" above a big cartoon heart. My physical heart stopped for a moment, but I quickly put the mic to my lips and gestured vaguely to that spot in the crowd.