*Quinn's POV*
"So Quinn, what exactly happened on that tour bus? That was quite a scene."
All the boys, as well as Ronnie and I were at a press conference. In the words of Simon Cowell, I "would not want to screw this up."
"Well, Milo and Ian gave some girls who didn't have tickets free tickets to the show. What they didn't expect was that they'd sneak into the bus, spike their drinks with illegal substances and smoke in the bus during the show. The crew was busy setting up, and we didn't notice the girls slip backstage, that was a mistake on my part for sure." I was so lucky that there was a cloth draped over the table, or else they'd see past the seemingly calm demeanor. They'd see my legs nervously jiggling up and down, my shaking hands fidgeting with the cloth.
"So you're accepting partial blame for this incident?" I tool a deep breath and nodded. "Yes. I should have kept a closer eye on who was backstage, but didn't expect them to be able to sneak into the bus. Next question in the back?" I wasn't liking this. I just wanted to be home, eating ice cream.
"How did you know what to do in that moment? Everything was so hectic out there, wasn't it?"
I chuckled. "It was, but truth be told, I've just learned everything I know in that sector in my free time watching cop shows on Netflix."
"When you realized Wesley was still in the bus and went in without expecting what the interior of the bus would be like, what ran through your mind?"
"I had to get him out if it was the last thing I did." The murmuring in the room ceased, and it went silent. Wesley took my hand under the table, and stroked circles with his thumb, calming me down.
"It didn't matter matter if it was Milo, or Ronnie, or Beau instead in that bus, I stepped in, and almost had to get back out because the smoke was so thick that it felt as of it was burning my eyes, lungs, and skin. But if I had been there for a second and felt that, what was going on with whoever was in there longer, for an indefinite period of time?" An officer got up, and walked to a mic. "That's all the time we have for today, thank you all for coming."
After everyone cleared out of the room, I sighed in relief. "Thank god that's over." I walked quickly to the door, when Wes grabbed my shoulder, and spun me back to face him so fast that I almost fell to the floor. "Quinn, what the hell are you doing?" He hissed. "You're screwing yourself over if you take even any of the blame!"
"Wes. Look. The security at the venue would have lost their jobs. So would the bus driver. They're not as well off. I'm not going to do that to them-"
"So you're going to do that? Quinn, why?!" Shouted Wes. The boys quickly ran over to us, seperating Wesley form me. "Dude, back off. She's under enough pressure as it is." Growled James. He glanced to the wide windows on every wall, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "The fans are watching and most likely taking pictures or recording our conversation right now, the least you could do is keep it down."
"Chill, Wes." I said louder than I normally would, laughing fakely. "Stop being such a drama queen, we can all go out for ice cream another time. It's not the end of the world." The boys caught on, and all started warily laughing. We walked out of the building, and met as many fans as we could. But you could feel the slight tension amongst us.
"Quinn, are you ok? It looked pretty intense in there. " Asked a girl, as I signed her phone case. "I'm fine, it's just not every day where groupies plant crack in your tour bus, y'know?"
-
The ride back to the next city was dead silent. The only sounds were the tires of our new tour bus rolling against the highway and the occasional yelling coming from Jasper and Dallas playing video games.
The Janoskians' bus trailed behind ours, since we couldn't really fit 14 people into one bus. "I'm sorry, Quinn." Mumbled Ian, twiddling his thumbs. "We didn't know that would happen, I swear." Added Milo. I sighed. "Just lock the door on the way out next time. Let's not talk about this, it's over and done. Go play some FIFA with Jasper and Dallas, I'm kinda tired." I got up, and walked towards the bunks, everyone in the room's eyes trailing after me.
Almost collapsing onto my bunk, I got out my phone and went on Twitter. I knew I probably shouldn't have been doing that, but I did it anyways. When I was about to click on the hashtag #WhatsUpQuinn , Wesley took my phone, and closed the app. Crouching next to my bunk, he passed me back my phone. "Don't be looking at that stuff, Q. It won't do you any good."
"I need to know what they think, Wes." I said, reopening the Twitter app and clicking on the hashtag. "Fine. but I'm looking at these with you. Scooch over." Wesley wrapped his arms around my waist, and looked over my shoulder at the screen with me.
"Quinn's quitting YouTube for the band"
@QuinnBeattieRocks: @BeattieBomb I wouldn't quit for the band. if I was quitting, it would be because of the new Vine/YouTubers that think they're top shit and just ruin the community by shading people left and right.
"Quinn's gunna get fired"
@QuinnBeattieRocks: @e3janobeattie Awkward. I'm self employed.
My blood froze at the next tweet. Wes inhaled sharply and his grip around my waist tightened.
"Quinn's gunna get her heart stomped on and ripped to shreds by Wesley Stromberg again and she dosen't even know it."
Wes reached over and press the reply button, but I closed the app. "Don't be replying to that stuff, Wes. It won't do you any good." I said, with a wavering smile. Flashbacks from what happened those years ago played in my mind.
"I'd never hurt you like that again, I swear on my life." Said Wes, his voice cracking. "I know, Wes. You got help, you've changed." By how much, though? I wanted to add, but this was probably a bad time to ask. He pulled my head into his broad chest, hands sitting just above my lower back. "I missed you, Quinn. I missed you a lot."
"I missed you too, Wes. But my schedule was so crazy and-"
"Let me rephrase that. I missed us." Said Wes. "And I'll wait forever for when you're ready to try us again. I get that you're gunna have to learn to trust me all over again, and that's ok. I'll still be waiting."
"Then I think we could go back and start from there." His tired eyes widened. "I'm not saying that I forgive you for what happened, or that it'll disappear from my memory, but I'm saying that I'm giving you a chance to be a better guy than you were before and fill my mind with better memories to be made-but Wes, did you mean it when you said you weren't over me?"
"I think you know the answer to that. Did you write that song about us?" He asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I think you know the answer to that." I said, giving him a peck on the cheek, and leaving the bunk, as well as a surprised Wesley.
