The Life We Once Knew

I Love My Friends, Mostly

"All bands tour, why don't we?" Tabitha asked.

Linda and I exchanged glances before sighing deeply. We had only just begun work on the first Storms Over London album and Tabitha was already talking tour. The last thing I wanted was to tour the world in a new band. Linda had only been on tour once and I could see her dread in her eyes. While she didn't live the Beatles 1966 World Tour, I think my stories had scared her off touring permanently. Linda shook her head and did her best to be decent, I, on the other hand, did no such thing. I crossed my arms and prepared to show her just how stubborn I could be. 

"I take it you've never toured," I frowned.

Tabitha shot me a glare, "My old band and I toured Britain last year."

"That's different," I replied, "Touring Britain in small pubs and the like is simple. Going from stadium to concert hall to stadium is absolute hell."

"I'd like to judge that for myself."

I shook my head, "You won't get to. We're not bloody touring and that's final."

"It's not final," Tabitha spat, "Last I checked, we were a band, a team. It's Storms Over London, not Amelia McCartney and those other three. Let's take a vote, shall we?"

I glared at her. Linda cleared her throat and eyed me, "It's only fair, Amelia."

"Fine. All in favor of touring raise your hand."

Tabitha was the only one to raise her hand. She looked at Linda and Minerva expectantly but they simply gazed back. I grinned, "All in favor of not touring?"

Three hands shot up. Linda, Minerva, and I were in agreement; we would not tour. I had PTSD flashbacks every time the word tour was mentioned, let alone actually going on tour. It terrified me enough to where performing live in any sense was nerve-racking. I hadn't been on stage when the fireworks went off, but I saw the trauma it created. I've already been through enough traumatic events, I wasn't keen on another one.

"Really, Minerva?" Tabitha asked.

Minerva, refusing to meet her eyes, shrugged, "Sounds stressful. I just wanna play."

"Exactly and, on tour, you can't hear your own bloody music," I stated, "Trust me, it's more trouble than it's worth."

Tabitha flung her hands up, "You forget, you're not Revolution anymore! You don't play with the bloody Beatles, because that's who the fans were screaming for, not you."

"Alright you little-"

"Amelia," Linda cut in, "Tabitha, it's more than just the screaming fans. Touring comes with serious dangers. The Beatles were almost killed on their last tour."

"We're not The Beatles," Tabitha replied.

I glared at her, "It doesn't matter, you git. We're close and that's all they need to go completely berserk on us. I don't know about you but I don't want to be shot."

"I-"

"Girls, please."

Ellen opened the door to the studio and walked in, her hands held above her head. I had forgotten that she and Mitch were in the production room going over the new songs. She glared at each of us, me especially. The look she sent me threatened death if I didn't stay quiet. I clamped my lips shut and watched as she walked into the middle of the room.

"There is no sense in arguing over this," Ellen smiled, "What we need is a compromise."

Tabitha brightened, "I'll accept half a tour."

"Elly, I'm not tourin' again," I said.

She met my eyes and nodded, "I know, Amelia, and you won't."