Shadows From the Abyss

Bus Ride

Sleeping on a tour bus was always a little weird. You were relaxed but at the same time slightly terrified that you were rocketing down the highway in a 40,000 pound metal box at about seventy miles an hour. The speed and route you took from point A to point B was out of your control, and you trusted someone you had slowly grown to know over the years and hoped would keep control and not kill you. If you had the back room, the sound of the motor rumbling on the other side of the wall hopefully put you to sleep, and if you were in a bunk, you watched something on your phone, read, or hoped you didn't wake up and think you were trapped in a coffin.

Art and Shawn had the back room, per Tre's insistence. They had a full sized pull out bed, a TV and a door you could close, which made transitioning to road life slightly easier. That first night was really laid back and relaxed, which put Shawn more at ease that he had made the right choice of coming out on tour. Once everyone was showered and changed into comfy clothes, they all just hung out, watched some TV and chatted before getting ready to head to bed. It was ten and a half hours to West Palm Beach, so it would be a long ride.

"Hey Art," Tre lifted his head from his phone, a grin on his face, "tomorrow night, you wanna be our bar tender backstage?"

Art shrugged and smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Shawn rolled his eyes and smiled. He was so relieved that his Dad and boyfriend got along so well.

"Tomorrow is gonna be awesome!" Mike cheered, pulling a shirt over his head.

"You ready to head to bed, baby?" Art smiled, taking Shawn's hand.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second, okay?"

"Okay, sweets," He smiled, kissing Shawn's cheek before saying his good nights to everyone else and heading to the back room.

Shawn looked over at his father. "So what do you think?"

Tre just smiled. "He's a good kid and I haven't seen you this happy in years. He can stay."

"Oh thank God."

"Were you worried?"

"He was more worried than I was, but yeah."

The bus door opened, causing everyone to turn and see Billie coming up the stairs, looking stressed out and upset.

"What's wrong?" Mike asked.

Billie sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Mom called. Manson had to be put down."

A tense silence fell. Manson was the Pomeranian dog Iva had adopted after Gloria was born. He was a nasty little dog who only liked the two women of the house and when Iva passed away, he stuck to Gloria's side like a shadow. Even though Billie hated that dog, he seemed pretty upset that he was suddenly gone.

"What happened?"

"He just got sick last week and kept getting worse and worse. She took him to the vet and there was nothing they could do so she had to make that call. G is inconsolable and is refusing to talk to anyone."

"Shit," Mike sighed.

Billie shrugged. "Nothing any of us can do. If she wants another dog, I'll get her one eventually. Mom had his paw print cast and had him cremated already."

"How old was he?" Shawn asked.

"Not sure. The shelter your mom got him from thought he was already five but there's no telling." He sighed again. "Alright, I'm going to bed. We still getting breakfast tomorrow?"