Pictures And Some Memories

Eighteen: Frisco.

"I would be surprised if you weren't in his bed right now."

The statement echoed around my head over and over again. As I showered, as I helped clean up the bus, as I got everything working for the upcoming set. No matter what, I couldn't shake how cold Larkin's tone was in the phone. How I had felt optimistic upon playing that voicemail earlier, as he may have finally come around to trust my intentions for signing onto this tour. Maybe this time, I was wrong about him.

Instead, as I was waiting for the barista's to finish everyone's orders in the band and crew, I listened to the man that was supposed to love me insult everything I stood for, and more importantly, my character. I cried in the middle of the Starbucks, but for once I was grateful that it was in front of strangers instead of my friends, and that I'd volunteered to go alone.

Past the crying stage, I mostly just felt shame. Partially because I felt that he was right. After all, while he was delivering that message, I was heavily considering crawling into Zacky's bunk. Not even to sleep with him, but to feel the closeness that I hadn't received from Larkin in a long, long while.

Zack had asked why I remained with Larkin, and I was fully prepared to answer with "it's what I deserve." My track record with relationships hadn't been the best-- after Zack and I's disastrous end (caused by me, of course) I had moved on to a heroin addicted tattoo artist, and then Larkin. The answer was half-assed before, but now, I was starting to think that it was true.

"Set begins in ten," Jason called over the radio system. "Missing The Rev, Syn, and Zacky, as per usual. Andi, Kent, go round them up and be on your toes. San Fran is a city of bad luck for this band."

"Remind me to ask why later, but, alright, I'm on it," I replied into my receiver. I jumped down from my perch behind the stage on one of the rafters and began my search for the three musketeers.

"Where are y'all, anyway?" I muttered under my breath as I dashed past several crew members. I swore I'd just seen Bri and Jimmy warming up on the ramp to their trailer not five minutes ago, and now they just up and disappeared? Anxiety loomed over me as I searched out the beanpole and his sidekick.

"Ariel!" Jimmy cried out a moment later, from behind me. I sighed in relief and turned, coming face to face with him and Brian. "ZV still missing, but The Rev and Syn are in sight," I barked into my receiver quickly.

"Where have y'all been? The set starts in less than 10 minutes!" I cried out, smacking his and Brian's chests playfully.

"Needed beer," Brian replied simply, holding up a six pack.

"And Zack?" I asked.

They exchanged mischievous glances. "Still on the bus, Little Red," Jimmy answered with a sly grin.

"I don't know, and I don't wanna know what you've been planning, but either way, get to the stage!"

"Yes ma'am!" the pair saluted goofily before turning in the opposite direction, back to where I'd come from.

Thankfully, the bus wasn't too far from where we needed to be, so I went ahead and jogged on over. "Hey, Baker, you've—oh, thank God you've got a towel on."

There he stood, water droplets dripping from his hair onto the white linoleum floor, towel dangerously low on his hips as he drank directly from the bottle of whiskey, only a quarter left over from the previous night's festivities. "Relax," he said with a wince, putting the nearly-finished bottle down onto the countertop. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"Well, not completely. You may have a tattoo under that towel that's yet to have been brought to my attention," I joked, sealing the bottle and putting it into the freezer.