Tour Bus Troublemaker// c.p.

•2•

We'd been on the bus for a couple of hours already and I'd only seen Charlie come out of the recording studio once. To pee. I was now sprawled out on the couch with my journal and pen in hand.

My journal was my lifeline. It held every thought and idea I'd had since I was 15 and every song lyric I had ever composed. My journal basically told my life story, and no one, no one, was allowed to even go near it, let alone read it.

As I gazed out the window of the tour bus watching the world roll by I scrawled down everything that was happening at the moment. I still heard Charlie every once in a while in the studio, but not singing. Sometimes he would make exasperated or frustrated noises and toss some things around in anger. I listened to his little tantrums for about an hour before he came back into the living area to see me on the couch writing.

He stood in the doorway and stared for a moment, narrowed eyes scanning my body relaxed on the couch. I glanced up at him glaring at me then ignored him and went back to writing.

He cleared his throat, causing me to shut my book and met his gaze.

"Yes?" I flashed him a smug look from my horizontal position on "his" couch.

"We'll be in Los Angeles in an hour," he stated, obviously still bothered by the fact I was laying on the couch.

I nodded and started to write again. But still he stood there, watching me from the doorway.

"Um, are you, like, do you need anything?" He asked, nervously scratching at the back of his head.

I shook my head and wrote some more words.
"Nope," I answered and he nodded uncomfortably.

"My manager told me to ask, it's not that I care," he remarked coldly and I rolled my eyes.

He then proceeded to take a seat on the chair I was in earlier and kick his feet up on the small table. I had decided that the best option at this point was to ignore him, at least if he was going to continue to be such an asshole.

We must've stayed that way for a good 30 minutes in silence before his phone rang and he answered.

"Hello?" He held the phone to his right ear. I heard a muffled voice on the other line and his expression suddenly turned....happy? This was a rare sight. His smiled seemed to illuminate the dim room and his eyes turned up slightly at the corners. I watched him closely as he grabbed his hair in disbelief, all the while grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you serious?" He asked happily. The voice on the other line laughed and talked some more.

"Oh my, God," he said and tilted his head back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, still holding the phone to his ear.

"Alright, see you then, thanks, bye," he said and hung up the phone.

"Good news?" I questioned without looking up from my writing.

I saw him smile wider out of the corner of my eye.
"Great, actually," he answered.
"Sold out the Staples Center."

I actually looked up at him, feeling my heart beat quicken. The Staples Center. Packed with fans. I have to perform in front of thousands of people. My stomach was in a knot as I realized what a huge deal this was. He glanced up at me from his phone so I plastered my best fake smile on my face.

"Congrats," I told him and his face softened a little. He flashed a small smile.

"Thank you," he nodded and we both went back to our previous activities, but he stayed where he was. His presence made me tense, yet somehow I enjoyed it. It's like I was fire and he was water; I craved him near me. But I knew he would also destroy me.