How Not To Be A Groupie

Chapter Fifty Nine: Talking It Over

Streetlights flashed past the windows, their glows intense in the dark night. A yawn escaped me and I pulled my jacket tighter around myself, my eyes fluttering shut. After spending a good long while in the dingy bathroom of the venue calming myself down after the day's wild events, I finally worked up the courage to face my friends again and enjoy what I could of the concert. Only recently did my exhaustion finally catch up with me and now I was on the tour bus home, about to fall asleep. "Ya' cold?" Bon asked. 

I only shrugged. I still hadn't bucked up the nerve to look him in the eye too long but I let him sit next to me on the way back to the hotel; not daring to use the window as a pillow again considering what happened last time. But I wasn't too sure about the alternative. So, despite my fatigue, I sat up straight. 

Bon stood from his seat, carefully making his way toward the back of the bus. He came back and wrapped a blanket from one of the beds around my shoulders. And I thought I was done with one of these. "There," he said. 

"Thanks," I said and yawned again. We stopped at a light and the exhaust built up, giving the bus a very rugged and intoxicating smell. I wrinkled my nose. 

"Tired?" Bon asked. Either Bon really could go days without sleeping or he was a good actor. He didn't sound the least bit tired. I was sure alcohol made a person sleepy and Bon had been drinking quite a lot of it. I also knew Bon could hold his liquor pretty well at this point and probably had no side effects. "Here, you can sleep until we get there."

At first I shook my head, trying not to give in to the temptation. But seconds later I surrendered to sleep's seduction, Bon letting his arm hang around my shoulders. 

In and out of sleep I went. First I'd be off in dreamland when suddenly the driver took a turn or tripped over a pothole and I'd wake up, grumbling and muttering, and pulling the blanket up to cover my face. Someone took a seat in front of us and started up a conversation with Bon. I kept very still and listened to what I could. "Things alright back here?" Malcolm asked.

Of course. 

"Sure," Bon said. "Gotta take these shoes off, like, the dogs are barkin'." I tried not to giggle in delirium, pulling the blanket closer over my face. "Happy to tour but I'm countin' down the days till Christmas."

"Goin' somewhere?" Malcolm asked.

"Straight to Mum's," Bon said. "Then I'm takin' time off for myself. Gonna live the hermit life for a few days." Malcolm agreed and I could detect a faint whiff of smoke. Honestly, it was better than whatever fumes built up at stoplights. What kind of gasoline did buses take, anyway?

Malcolm and Bon didn't seem to have anything to say in relevance to me so I attempted sleep again. I got so close when suddenly the bus went over a curb, rocking me from side to side. "Close one," Malcolm said. "Could tip over any second. Should have had you drive us home, eh?"

"I'd show him up," Bon said. "But I don't want him to lose his job."

"You're sweet," Malcolm said. "But I don't wanna lose my life."

As long as these two kept me out of the conversation, I wouldn't worry so much. Obviously should one of them accidentally divulge a secret smooch between him and I, I'd be embarrassed like hell but it wouldn't be the end of the world. And surely these men shared women back in the day, they were used to this kind of thing. 

But I wasn't. And I wasn't sure I wanted to be. Being a groupie was fun but to what extent? At what point did I have to compromise my comfort for the sake of keeping the band entertained?

"I'll be gettin' the electricity looked at," Malcolm said. "Fuses blow out every time I sneeze an' I can't get shit done. Plugged my amp in an' nearly burnt the place down."