At Their Very Best

Part 3

You're on a 20-minute pit stop at a Love's gas station in the middle of nowhere. The band had all hopped out of the bus to stretch their legs and have a few cigarettes. Hunched over your iPad in the front booth, you're sure your posture is the worst it's ever been. Everyone is finally responding to you, the time difference between the US and UK finally working to your advantage in the afternoons. Your headphones are blasting, the steady beat helping you stay focused. You're working quickly before the screen is taken from your hands.

"What the fuck?"

You immediately cringe, closing your eyes in embarrassment. Matty gives you an amused look, his eyebrow ticked. You make a mental note to take better care of yourself to remain professional. You've been slipping each day, the walls you've built around yourself crumbling as the band sneak into your stronghold.

You've already had to deal with an embarrassing phone call from Jamie Oborne about some paparazzi photos posted on the Daily Mail. Matty with his arm around your shoulders, sunglasses on, as he finished his cigarette outside the hotel. It was innocent, but to any bystander, you could see how it could look more than what it was. Explaining this to Jamie was a humbling experience you hoped to never partake in again.

"Time to take 5" Matty drops a cold water bottle onto the table before sitting beside you. Moving the drink away, you reach over his lap for your iPad, but he pulls it further from your reach. You can see the screen lighting up with incoming messages already.

"Nah-uh, bosses orders."

Technically, he's also your boss, but you absolutely do not have to answer to him. Polly slumps into the seat opposite the booth, offering you some salted pretzels from her open bag with a light shake.

"Can the boss also tell her to stop listening to the same song?" Ross complained.

Everyone laughs as they pile onto the bus, William settling back into the driver's seat and turning the engine on. Your cheeks develop a red tinge as you move back onto the interstate. While you snack on the food spread across the table, the conversation turns to you. Everyone is vying for your attention, trying to learn more about you.

"Favourite movie?" Polly.

"Worst date you ever had?" George.

"What did you wanna be when you grew up?" Ross.

"Obviously an Executive Tour Assistant of course!" Adam sasses.

You laugh at their questions and do your best to answer.

"I wanted to be everything." You start listing professions on your fingers. "A vet, a chef, a rockstar..." everyone laughs, but you've caught Matty's attention.

"And now?"

You sigh, "and now the only goal is to be the most successful at my high school reunion."

They all raise their drinks in cheers to that. Everyone gathers the last of their uneaten snacks, and the conversation shuffles toward the back of the bus. Allowing you to get back to work, Matty slides into Polly's vacant seat and drops your iPad back in front of you after glancing at the latest message from your friend in Australia that appears at the top of the notifications.

"How is it running away with the circus?"

He fiddles with your belongings on the table, twisting pens between his fingers in one hand and snapping a stapler in his other.

"Why didn't you do the whole rockstar thing?"

"Who says I didn't?"

He watches you, waiting for you to continue. You do, with a sigh. His piercing eyes pulling information from you like a magnet.