The Understudy (hiatus)

Chapter Three - Tydelynn

I was unpacking some of my things upstairs in the sleeping area. There was six bunks (three double-bunks) and I had the one that was above Kyle's. The other four bunks belonged to Dick, Woody, Will and Dan. Apparently, the sound crew and etc travelled in a different vehicle.

I threw my suitcase and laptop bag onto my bunk and climbed up. Sitting in my bunk, I realised that there was a small window covered by the same curtains that covered my bunk beside me. I opened the curtains, and a small beam of light shone through. Perfect, I smiled. I liked the idea that if I had to sleep whilst the bus was moving, I could look out the window and watch everything. That was one thing I loved to do on tour, just look out the windows and chill out.

I opened up my suitcase and looked at everything inside. I decided to leave all of my clothes in there, but I needed to unpack my toiletries and my special things. Firstly, I grabbed the small purple pillow that sat at the top of the pack and placed it with my other pillows in the bunk. Then I grabbed my make-up bag, my hairbrush and my toiletries bag, and jumped down from the bunk. I made my way into the small bus bathroom, and put my items in a drawer that Dick had cleared for me.

I walked back into the bedroom and climbed onto my bunk once again. I retrieved two notebooks and a tape recorder, placed them onto my bunk mattress, and zipped my suitcase back up. I placed the suitcase and my laptop bag in an overhead cupboard. Then, finding a comfy position in the bunk, I started to flick through my notebooks.

I always carried the same two notebooks and a tape recorder around with me. The tape recorder was for recording little melodies and lyrics that I know I would forget in a heartbeat if I didn't record them super quick, and for recording interesting sounds around me. The two notebooks were full of lyrics; one notebook was for jotting down random lyrics and verses; the other notebook was for writing complete songs in neatly. Most songwriters use different processes to create a song, and having these three things with me was mine, I guess.

"Is that a tape recorder?" A shy, but manly voice enquired from within the room. I jumped. I had no idea that anyone was in the room. I whipped my head around to see Dan sitting on the upper bunk opposite me.

Really? You had to have that bunk? I thought.

"Urr...yeah," I admitted, grabbing my purple pillow and unzipping it. I placed the notebooks and tape-recorder into the pillow, and then zipped it back up again. I always did this on tour, it was a privacy OCD thing.

"What's it for?" He asked. I could feel his eyes stabbing me in the back. I turned my body around to face him.

"Recording," I replied sarcastically.

He smiled and looked down, grabbing my sarcasm and taking it perfectly. I studied his face.

He looked very handsome when he smiled. He looked very handsome, full stop, but he wasn't my type. He seemed too mysterious, too geeky, too awkward for my liking. I liked outspoken and confedient men, because they were the total opposite to me. I was pretty quiet and sarcastic around strangers. I guess I thought that Dan and I were too alike, and that's why I saw no attraction.

"Recording what, exactly?" He shot back, smirking.

"Sounds!" I whispered, the sarcasm dripping out of my mouth.

"What sounds?" He mimicked my sarcastic whisper, and I giggled in spite of myself.

"Any, I guess. If I like a sound, I record it," I said, the sarcasm was gone from my voice now.

"Same here. Sometimes I think of a melody, and I have to walk out of a conversation and sing it into my phone. Everyone's conviced that I'm a weirdo," He laughed, looking down again.

"Join the club," I mumbled, smiling. I jumped off my bunk, and headed for the stairs. "You coming down?" I asked.

He looked up and smiled softly. He jumped off his bunk and stood behind me before the stairs.

"Lead the way," He whispered, his breath unintentionally tickling my neck.

That felt good. It shouldn't have done, but it did. His breath on my neck made me freeze and feel entranced, which it shouldn't have done. I was not attracted to Dan.

I snapped out of my small trance and shivered. I gulped and started to walk down the stairs, in which Dan's heavy footsteps followed. I joined the rest of the lads in the living area, flopping down on a seat.

I deseparetely hoped that Dan hadn't noticed what effect he'd just had on me. I wasn't attracted to Dan at all, I just hoped it was just my body's reaction to the breath on my neck and not to him. If Dan got the wrong idea, this could be a terrible and awkward tour.

I just hoped he hadn't noticed.