Eyes on You // Awsten Knight

four

I cannot remember being a kid. I remember what happened during those years of my life, but I don't recall having sleepovers or having friends in general. I don't remember going to my first high school party, or my graduation ceremony.

Mostly because none of those things ever happened.

After being signed to Warner Music, Flames to Dust took off fast. Way too fast. We went on our first cross-country tour when I was sixteen, going from St. Johns to Vancouver. We were the openers for a band I knew a little bit of information beforehand.

They were called Ghastly, and they were a hardcore punk band. It was strange to go on tour with them. Not only did our musical styles contrast heavily, but they were all much older than us. Late thirty's to mid forty's to be exact. I had to lie about my age quite a bit for the months to come in order to play in certain venues. At this point, all of the members of Flames to Dust had graduated except for me, and since the tour took place in the early fall, I had to start taking my classes online.

Spencer and I were already inseparable, but somehow this tour brought us even closer together. My family had chosen not to accompany me, and that was probably one of the most dangerous things they could have done. Spencer had somehow convinced them that him and the rest of the band could take all of my medical responsibilities into their hands. The months that followed was the period of my life where when I was introduced to the punk rave scene. The drugs, the alcohol and the sex. Spencer knew all about that kind of stuff, and guided along the way. He was the only one in the band who seemed to know how reckless I was becoming. If it were Noah who took on the roll of my main caregiver instead, things would have gone a lot differently. He tried his best though. He made sure I took my medications every night, and always checked up on me to make sure that I was asleep or alive. For the next four months, Noah and Eric were the closest I had to parents. Not even our tour manager, Brandon, seemed to really care what I did. Spencer always told me that there was a difference between existing and living, and he would say that I deserved more than just existence.

The party scene was no place for someone like me, but I fell into it anyways. My rebellious mindset that I had held back for so long was finally coming out to play. It wasn't until we reached the last leg of the tour in British Colombia when I realized that there may have been a problem on my hands. Every night was another club or bus or basement, which meant alcohol and pot and ecstasy. The lifestyle turned into life support, and it was only that one night in B.C when I realized just what I had become.

Ghastly had invited us to join them at a very private party, alongside other older rock bands. At this point, I was so very tired. I was behind on my schooling, and very behind on my sleep schedule. I wanted to just call it a night, but it was Spencer who crawled into my bunk and gave me a lecture on why I should go.

"It's about making connections, Kitty!" He had pleaded with me. I still hated the name Kitty, but I had allowed Spencer to adopt it as a pet name for me, and I had eventually become numb to it.

"Spence, I'm so exhausted. And besides, those Ghastly guys kinda put me off..."

"Kitty, come on!" He begged, squeezing my hands with a strange sense of urgency. I sighed, my eyes darting out of his gaze. I agreed, my shoulders dropping in defeat. Spencer seemed proud of himself as he exited the bunk, allowing me to change from my pajamas. I never dressed fancy for these sorts of things, usually just shorts and a t-shirt, so I was surprised when Spencer through me a pastel pink summer dress. The straps were thin, and the waistline flowed out airily.

"What's this for?" I asked, noticing his lack of formal attire. He simply shrugged, sticking his hands in the pocket of his ancient denim jacket.

"I just think it would look cute."