[AustinCarlile] Live Forever

[AustinCarlile] Live Forever [ChapterEleven]

“They want more money for the new treatment.” Resting my elbows on the table, my body stuck between the contour of it and the back of the booth, I drop my head into the palms of my hands, feeling defeated, feeling overwhelmed, feeling hopeless. No one around me says anything, the five of them either simply sitting or standing, everyone suddenly motionless, not able to think of anything to say, knowing nothing that they say will make this easier, make this okay, make this feasible. “I can’t keep, I can’t keep giving out money to things that aren’t working for him. I have to keep some money in my bank account, right?” There’s not a single answer, everything is quiet, the silence keeping the six of us in this situation. “I have to have money to pay for my own things, right? I know I do, but it feels so wrong.”

Nate swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes glossed over with a thin film of water, and he lets out a shaky, uneven breath, running a hand through his hair. It’s always like this, on the tours, they always hear about this, I never keep it from them, they deserve to know, they want to know, Adam is their best friend, through it all, they haven’t left him, didn’t look at him and run away, they were always there, and for that I love them more than I thought I ever could. “We’ll pay for stuff on the road and you pay for things back home, okay?”

Shaking my head, I look up at him, my eyes wide, chewing on my lower lip as my elbows slide off the table and into my lap. “No, Nate, that’s not necessary. I'm just venting. I have money, Nate; I've always had money. I just don’t want my mom to have to work so much. I don’t think I've ever seen her without a job.” In all honesty, I don’t want their money, I don’t want them to have to spend their money on me this entire tour while I have money to pay for things on my own, they don’t have to take care of me – I'm capable of doing that myself.

“Dev, we’re not asking for your approval.” Liam says, his voice hard, stern, serious, I'm not allowed to fight back, I won’t win, he gets angry, they all get upset, it’s a never ending cycle of me losing in the end. His eyes are narrowed in on me, waiting for me to respond, to tell him that I’ll listen to him, that I’ll let them take care of me in a similar way that I'm taking care of my brother, to let him know that I understand this is their way of financially contributing. I can’t find words to say, they’ve done so much already, starting with keeping their friendship with Adam, that I don’t know the proper way to thank them.

Running a hand through my hair, biting down on my lower lip as a smile tugs at the corner of my lips, I know that I'm not going to stop them from this, their new plan, their new way to contribute; they won’t let me stop them. “I love you, guys.” I'm not able to say anything else, my body is pushed against the wall of the bus, bodies jumping on top of mine, causing me to groan, but I can’t stop the laugh from escaping my lips.

“What is going on? Guys, come on, we need her, she’s an important part of the band.” Hunter’s voice is loud, he’s yelling, I can almost imagine him standing in front of all of us, his clipboard of important information written all over it, his hair hidden underneath a backwards hat. “I'm seriously not kidding. You have an interview to be at in ten minutes.”

<3

“Fuck, marry, kill, eat – your band.”

Laughing, I loll my head backwards, shaking my head as I bite down on my lower lip, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, looking at Chris, sighing loudly. “I really don’t want to eat any of them; that’s fucking nasty. Wait, am I allowed to say that? You can edit that out. Uh, let’s get that over with and say I’d eat TJ; he eats good food, he’d probably taste the best. I, okay, I would have to kill Anthony because he gets angry, I don’t know. This is hard. I would fuck Liam because he’s gorgeous, let’s be honest about that. And I would marry Nate because I’ve known him the longest. I don’t know. This all sounds so weird. People are going to think I'm weird.” Running a hand through my hair, I ignore the stares coming from the guys, knowing that they're overthinking my answers; I know that they're finding the flaws in the other answer, even the answers that don’t pertain to them.

Nodding his head, Chris glances down at the clipboard in his hand, quickly skimming the next topic of the interview, and I know that the guys want a chance to answer the question, but they're not going to, not for the interview at least. “We’re moving on to this or that. You guys have played this with me before. Okay, first one, cat or dog?” It’s totally irrelevant to the band, totally irrelevant in the sense that no one really should care whether we’re cat people or dog people.

Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, I zone out of the argument over cats and dogs, knowing that the guys have different opinions on this, knowing that there’s really no reason to argue over it, and also knowing that Chris doesn’t care what we do in this interview as long as he has an interview. Out of all the people who have interviewed us – as a whole band, individually, some of us, a compilation of bands including us – he’s the one that I’ll always say yes to, that I won’t fight the management to take off my schedule, that I'm okay talking to because he doesn’t pry – he treats us like friends.

Interviews suck. The questions are horrible and usually have nothing to do with the band’s music, such stupid questions – I'm never going to be a pornstar, I apologize for not thinking about what my name would be then. Most of the time, the interviewer ignores at least half of the band, or tries really hard to incorporate all of us that it always ends up sounding and looking terrible. I’ve always wanted the written interviews in the video interviews, the really good questions the ones that people can see me react to, because I must look like such a bitch in these interviews when the questions are stupid and I don’t feel like answering them.

“If you could create your own tour, what bands would you tour with? Let’s limit it to five bands because I'm sure the list is long for all of you.” Chris glances at me from the corner of his eye, standing next to me in the long line of people who have to be caught on camera, and he smiles softly, as if approving of his question, proud of himself for it. He knows a lot of things about us, about other bands, he’s the best in the business, at least in my opinion, he does his research without digging too far, he’s considerate while doing his job.

I don’t answer first, I’ve never liked going first, it feels so awkward, looks like I have to be first in everything, like I have to be the best in every possible way, and I hate that, I hate the attention, I hate the pressure, I hate all of it. The guys never understood it, why I hate people looking at me, why I hate the attention, they say it doesn’t make sense, but when I'm on stage, I'm not just me, I'm someone bigger than me. I'm someone that people look up to, that people relate to, that people find comfort in, I'm always there for them, and they know that.

Nate crosses his arm over his chest, shifting his weight on his left leg, a glimpse of concern washing over his face, and I know that he can’t stop thinking about Adam. “Bands from today or bands that were popular back then?” Chris shrugs his shoulders and Nate lets out a dramatic sigh, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Five bands, uh, that’s really hard. Okay, I really want to tour with the Red Hot Chili Peppers, because they're awesome, they're a big reason I got into music. I would say Pierce the Veil, My Chemical Romance, Chelsea Grin, and Parkway Drive.” There’s something about Nate that all the girls love, his appearance, his voice, the way he presents himself, they all love him, and he hates it, it’s the complete opposite reaction that these girls think that he has because he will never show them that, he’s the happy one, that’s all they know him as.

They don’t know us. Granted, we discuss the events behind some of our songs, we tell them that we’ve been through hell and back, that we were bullied, that we all at one point in our lives contemplated suicide, that we know, we know what it’s like. But, they don’t know us, we keep our lives private, separate, most of us don’t like the spotlight on our lives, we just want it on our music, our lives shouldn’t matter if you like the music we make.

And if they don’t know us, that means Austin doesn’t know us. Austin doesn’t know me. All he, he’s only, he feels lust and nothing else.