St. Louis, Missouri.
Our next stop.
We all went to sleep quicker than usual. And in the morning, we had arrived in Missouri.
The whole day went by quickly and after we performed our manager informed us that the whole world knew about the pregnancy.
"How?!" I demanded before getting into the bus.
"I don't know." He said sadly.
I was so frustrated and emotional that I grabbed Eddie's hand and slammed the door on his face.
"Congrats!" The boys smiled.
"Thank you, so much," I said.
"We are going to be the best uncles," Mike laughed.
"Yeah, no." I laughed.
Eddie and I hugged them all goodnight and headed back to the bunk and just talked.
"Who should be the godfather?" I asked.
"Stone," Eddie answered.
"Why Stone?"
"Because he's the most intelligent and level headed out of all of us," he said.
"Okay. I'm fine with that. I love Mr. Steno," I laughed.
And then I realized something. I was so caught up in Corey, the media, Eddie, the pregnancy, the tour, etc, that I forgot my birthday was in a couple days.
"Eddie, guess what," I grinned.
"Yeah?"
"I'm almost 26,"
"Wait, you're birthday is coming up?" He said, excited.
"You bet your ass it is. This Thursday. It's Tuesday today."
"We should make a quick trip home," Eddie smiled.
"What if we have to cancel more shows?" I said, worried.
"Our next show is Saturday, since we're driving all the way to Miami. We'll just have to hurry," he said.
So we left to go tell the boys, and they were happy. So we made Donna drive us to the airport and left her in charge of the bus until we got back. We told her to meet us on Saturday at the arena in Miami.
"Congratulations, honey," she said, hugging me before we entered the airport.
"Thank you." I said politely. It was around 1 o'clock in the morning, and I was dead tired. But I wanted home. So we said goodbye and grabbed our luggages and headed inside. We got a flight to Seattle, and once we boarded the plane, we all fell asleep.
And when we awoke, we were in Seattle. It was Wednesday, my birthday tomorrow. But as soon as we got off, we were bombarded, again.
By those paparazzi fuckers.
"Violet, how long have you been pregnant??" A woman screamed.
"Whore!" Another one screamed.
"Do you know the gender yet??"
"Eddie! Will this be the end of Pearl Jam??"
"Stone! How do you feel about this??"
"Why does the Vedder family have so many secrets??"
"Eddie, will you abandon the child like your father did to you??"
I looked at Eddie, who held me close as we pushed through the people to get to our taxi. He was crying.
"Eddie, it's okay," I said, kissing his cheek gently. "I love you, we'll get through this together," I said, tears forming in my own eyes.
We held each other so close.
My brothers were pushing through, trying to comfort us.
"It's okay man, they're full of shit," Jeff told Eddie.
"Violet! Are you going to abort??"
"Is this just a fuck n' run?"
That was it.
"All of you, shut the fuck up!" And they actually shut up to listen to me.
"I'm not aborting my baby. I love my baby, I love Eddie. We love each other, and that's all that should fucking matter! You goddamn media shitheads need to learn that we are fucking human! Leave Kurt and Courtney alone! Leave me and Eddie alone! If we want to have a child, we fucking can! All of you, go to hell!" I screamed.
And they shut up as we crowded into two taxis. And while I was shoved next to Eddie in the seat next to Dave and Mike, I cried. No, no, I sobbed. I was so fucking sick of it.
Sick of it!
