'Moonlight'

18

The last few weeks of the tour go by in a blur, and before i know it, we're driving back home to Stevie's house again. This time Stevie sat in the front, by Sharon's request. Now i realise that Sharon only asked her to sit in the front so her and Lori could interrogate me.
"How was things with her? During the tour?" Sharon asks, as soon as the car starts. Stevie extracts a walkman from her purse, putting the volume almost all the way up and singing along loudly. I stifle a giggle at the sight before turning back to Sharon.
"What do you mean?" I frown.
"Usually she's quite stressed whenever she's touring, doesn't talk to anyone..." Sharon trails off, raising an eyebrow. I roll my eyes.
"Yes, she moved into my room, but only because Kesi fucked off," I scowl. "Thanks for telling me about that, by the way!" I smile sarcastically at Sharon, who holds her hands up in defense.
"I didn't know she'd actually leave you!"
"Yeah, whatever."
The rest of the car ride is spent with repeated questions from the girls, mostly about how Stevie was treating me the last few weeks. To be honest, we hardly talked at all during the tour. I stayed clear of her dressing room after the first night, and instead confined myself to my hotel room or took a walk outside for a bit to get peace. I hardly even seen Stevie at all if she wasn't onstage; she wouldn't come back to the room until I was asleep, and most nights when she returned to the room she was usually drunk. Or occasionally reeking of marijuana. Then she's never awake till after noon, by which time me and the girls would already be out doing stuff. Sometimes i'd wake up during the night and find her sitting up in bed, writing in her journal, but she rarely took notice of me, too deep in her thoughts, and I never disturbed her. I figured she was just busy, rather than ignoring me like before. At least i hoped. I glance over at Stevie, who's now gazing out of the window, still singing to herself quietly with the music from her headphones. I tear my eyes away from her, staring out the window instead, waiting for the moment when I'll see Stevie's house again. I've got a headache from lack of sleep recently and I already feel ill from sitting in the back of the car. I close my eyes, leaning my forehead against the cool glass of the window, trying to relieve the pain that's starting to build in my head. Stevie's loud singing doesn't help, no matter how perfect it is. I sigh heavily, resting my head more comfortably on my arms, trying to ignore Stevie and the rest of the noise in the car.
-
"Pierre,"
I start slightly, blinking rapidly as Sharon nudges me impatiently. I lift my head up from my arms, rubbing my eyes groggily.
"What?" I ask, sitting up more fully. I realise the car isn't moving. "Did we break down? What's happening?"
Sharon rolls her eyes, clicking my seatbelt button to unbuckle it. "No, we're here."
I roll my eyes back at her, more dramatically, before scrambling out of the car and hurrying to catch up with Sharon and Lori who have started walking towards the house. Stevie is already at the front door, rushing inside.
"Aah, home sweet home!" I hear Stevie declare loudly, smiling to myself as I follow after Sharon and Lori inside. Stevie is already dashing about lighting various candles.
"It's freezing," she mutters, tightening her shawl around herself before turning to the rest of us. "Are you not cold?"
I shrug, too busy trying to haul my suitcase up the stairs. Stevie watches me for a moment with an amused expression before turning back to her girls and squealing excitedly for some unknown reason. I manage to drag my suitcase to my room, dumping it in the corner to deal with later. If Stevie found out she wouldn't be pleased, but oh well.
"You'd better unpack that today."
I start slightly and spin around. I didn't even hear her following me.
"Speak of the devil," I mutter, as Stevie steps inside my room, staring pointedly at my suitcase. "I was just thinking how you'd be hassling me to get unpacked as soon as I'm in the door."
She tilts her head to the side slightly, giving me a sarcastic smile. "You're right about that."
I sigh heavily, flopping down onto my bed on my back, staring up at the ceiling blankly. After a moment, Stevie mimics my dramatic sigh, stepping further inside the room. I glance over at her to see that she's still staring at my suitcase as if it has personally offended her. I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling.
"Why don't you unpack it for me if it's such a problem." I offer, kicking my shoes off to move further up my bed more comfortably. She raises an eyebrow, scoffing lightly. I mimic her scoff just as she did with my sigh, eliciting a stifled giggle from her.
"Not my stuff to unpack, is it?"
"I suppose not..." I murmur, my eyes threatening to flutter closed again. My headache is gone, but my exhaustion not so much. I feel the other side of the bed weigh down slightly and I open my eyes, expecting to see my suitcase dumped in front of me. Stevie smiles lightly at me from where she's laying beside me, her head propped up on her hand as she watches me intently.
"Why aren't you in your own room?" I ask quietly. Stevie takes a moment to answer, apparently choosing her words carefully.
"I enjoy your company," she decides eventually, raising her eyebrows at me briefly. I shrug, meeting her gaze and smiling lazily at her.
"Are you tired?" she asks, pouting playfully. I shake my head, staring back up at the ceiling blankly. She lets out a quiet sigh, staring up at the ceiling too. We stay in somewhat comfortable silence for a while, just gazing at the roof as if it could start a conversation for us.
"You've gone quiet," Stevie states quietly after a while. "What's on your mind?"
I shrug, chewing on my bottom lip absent-mindedly. She sighs, kicking the back of her feet impatiently on the bed.
"You should go back to your room." I mutter, without looking away from the ceiling, though i can sense the smile on her face beside me.
"I enjoy your company, though," she says, propping her head up on her hand again, peering over at me.
"Don't use that as an excuse again, you need to get unpacked."
"Fine. That, and I have too many thoughts on my mind."
I tear my eyes away from the boring ceiling to see a slightly bashful grin on her face.
"Like what?" I raise an eyebrow, smiling knowingly.
She pauses, lowering her eyes to her rings for a moment, which she has started fidgeting with idly.
"This conversation," she murmurs, her eyes drifting off into space. "And how nice it is to talk with you. Or just be with you in general."
My heart flutters in my chest and i smile wider.
"Yeah, me too."
She meets my eyes finally, mirroring my grin. Her deep brown eyes are twinkling with amusement as she studies my face for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face. I frown at her slightly and she shakes her head, apparently in some sort of daydream.
"My birthday is soon," I say, finally thinking of an effective conversation starter. Her eyes light up at my words and she leans a little closer.
"When?" she asks, her voice filled with barely contained excitement.
"Just under a week," I tell her, not exactly thrilled at the idea of my birthday coming up. I hate my birthday. It's really just a reminder that i have more responsibilities and I'm gonna die soon. Stevie, on the other hand, is now practically trembling with excitement.
"Oh my goodness! It's gonna be so good!" she exclaims, clapping her hands together. "We can have a huge party, invite everyone-"
"No, no, no." I say, hurriedly. Stevie frowns, looking at me as if I've said the most offensive thing in the world. Turning down the prospect of a party probably is the most offensive thing in the world to her.
"I don't want a party, Stevie," I say, smiling a little at how horrified she looks at what I'm saying. "I don't want anything more than just hanging out with you guys."
Stevie sighs dramatically, pouting. "Suit yourself," she mutters, sitting back and folding her arms across her chest huffily. "It is your birthday after all."
"You can give me a fabulous present to make up for the non-existent party."
She softens a little at this, grinning.
"I may have a few ideas on what to get you."