I wake up the next morning with Jeordie still in my arms. I look at the alarm clock on the nightstand to check the time. I woke up at the exact time that I set my mind to wake up at last night. I love that I have this ability. I shake Jeordie lightly and he flutters his eyes and inhales deeply. "What?" He groans, dragging the word out. "You have to get up. We're leaving in two hours." I giggle. He slaps a pillow over his head as I open the curtains, letting the bright sun shine through. We both aren't very fond of sunlit rooms, but it will get him up sooner or later. I go take a shower after I make sure the rest of the band are awake. Everyone was, even Pogo. That surprised me; he praises sleep. I think it was because he could see Camille again. He hasn't seen her for a couple weeks, is what I assume. When I come out of the shower Jeordie is already dressed. "I'm too lazy to take a shower." He sighs, and closes his eyes. I laugh and go through my drawers for clothes.
"I don't think I'll put on makeup today either." He thinks aloud. I hear the doorbell ring and look at Jeordie questioningly, he just shrugs and falls onto our bed with a soft thud. "It's Cam!" Pogo yells to everyone. I close the door so I can get dressed.
45 minutes later..
We're all on the bus and waiting for our bus driver to start driving. His name is Matt. We hired him on our last tour. He's a pretty funny guy, we all enjoy his company. He starts the engine and we begin our travels.
First stop is Detroit. Nobody is excited, but we are at the same time. I mean, the concerts are fun to play and meeting the fans is sometimes a joy, but it's annoying spending two months in a crowded bus and being constantly tired. I'd say I hate it with a passion.
Right now we're all sitting in the makeshift lounge in the back. Camille is sitting on Pogo's lap, her head rested on his chest. Zim is in the corner if the mini couch, reading. Ginger is studying his glass of Jack. And Jeordie sits beside me, his head and hand on my chest. I play with his dreads.
I could say it a million times; I'm so glad Jeordie and I worked everything out that year. Who knows? The band might not have even got this far without him. He's controlled my anger, somewhat. He understands my freakouts and why they happen to me. He doesn't get mad, he just helps me calm down. Even though I do piss off everyone, Jeordie helps calm everyone down. I don't think any of my band members would have stayed without him.
I just hope he knows that I appreciate him. Coming from a fucked up life he had, it'd be hard to even have emotions again.
I worry about him and his dad. He sends letters to the band's post office all the time. I wish his dad would just leave him alone. I see the pain he pours into Jeordie even if he just sees his fathers name.
I remember a freakout he had one day; it was one of the worst ones.
•FLASHBACK•
The band was going through some of our fanmail. We usually do this when we're off tour, or just bored honestly. We each had a pile in front of us as we sat at the kitchen table. If we saw a certain persons name the letter was dedicated to, we would pass it to the individual. Ginger found a certain one with Jeordie's full name on the top. He passed it to him and none of us thought any of it.. until he opened it and proceeded to read. After a few seconds of him moving his eyes along the paper he clutched his stomach and started shaking visibly. "Jeordie, are you okay?" I ask. The rest if the band didn't seem to notice. All of us had earphones in except for Jeordie and I, so I guess it made sense. His eyes continue to move quickly along the paper. I can tell he's having a panic attack but when I try to touch him or take the letter away he flinches and whispers "No."
Finally he's done the letter and he walks up the stairs into our room, his whole body shaking. I stand there speechless. I pick up the letter and search the bottom of the paper for a name. His father's name is written at the bottom in a messy manner. As if he were drunk when he wrote it. I run up the stairs to catch up to Jeordie. I open our bedroom door, but he's not there. Now I'm panicking. I hear groans coming from the bathroom. Shit, what if he started self harming again? I run to the bathroom and open the door slowly. His frail figure is bent over the toilet, the remaining contents of his stomach splashing in it. I walk over to him and get on my knees. I pull him away from the toilet when I see that he's finished and lean up against the wall, pulling him back with me so that his back and head are resting on my chest. He's still shaking. "I thought you were going for the razor again." I say quietly. "Brian, that was when I was a teenager. I'm matured somewhat you know." He scoffs. His sass hasn't even left him after that ordeal. "Do you want to talk about what the note said?" I ask. He shakes his head side to side. "It's okay." I coo.
After a few minutes he surprisingly tells me what it was about. Good, I don't have to sneak around and read it secretly myself.
"He said that he was going to find me, even if I believe that he won't. He claims he knows that we're touring in Ohio at some point, and just.." He trails off. "Brian, what if he does find me?" He starts to cry silently. I wipe away his tears, "I won't let him. As long as I'm here, he won't hurt you. And I'll always be by your side, okay?" I reassure him. He nods, but I know he doesn't completely believe me. He seems more comfortable though. I kiss his head and we go back downstairs once he's regained his composure.
•FLASHBACK ENDED•
"I love you." I say, basically subconsciously.
"I love you too." He smiles.
sorry it wasn't very interesting, but just wait okay? cx
