Not This Time

Jon: November 17, 1986

     The boys were already gone. The rollaways were already locked up and waiting to go. There was an interview scheduled for me in this dressing room, so they'd cleared space and gotten the guys back to the hotel quickly. I picked up the towel from around my shoulders and tried, for the third time, to get any last bit of sweat out my hair. Whether it was Nina or the interviewer who got here first, I didn't want to look like a complete mess.
     A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door. Nina stepped in when I called out. I was glad it was her first. I always looked forward to seeing her, and I knew I wouldn't be able to pause the interview for her to give me notes. Nina shut the door behind her and smiled across the room at me. God, she looked exhausted.
     "Are you alright?" I asked her gently when we met in the middle of the room. I brought my hands up to either side of her face. I ran my thumbs gently over her cheeks as if she'd been crying, even though she hadn't. The dark circles under her eyes concerned me. She pulled my hands away from her face and held onto them, smiling at me again, but she didn't answer. "You look tired," I observed.
     Nina scoffed at me. "Who are you calling tired?" she retorted with a slight scowl.
     "These dark circles, Nina," I commented, bringing my hand back up to her face. She let me trace her skin gently for a minute, but then leaned away. I frowned. "Have you not been sleeping?"
     "Not well," she admitted, dropping my hand and turning away from me. She looked like she didn't really want to talk about it, but after all the times she'd made me talk about Dotty, I wasn't going to let her avoid it this time. I cared too much.
     "Why not?" I prompted, "What's the matter?"
     She didn't answer for a while. I watched her run her fingers through her hair. Then she brought her hands up and rubbed her face. Finally, she turned back to me with a tired sigh. There was a strange look in her eyes. I couldn't tell for sure what it was. It could have been fear or nerves, but it could have just as easily been the exhaustion.
     "The one thing I've never gotten over," Nina muttered, wrapping her arms around herself, "Is being in a room with more than a couple men at once. Especially small spaces." She blinked and looked away. Oh. This was about her attack. I guess, in a way, that made sense. She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I cannot sleep on those bus rides between cities. There are too many crewmen in too small a space," she explained, still shaking her head. When she continued, she sounded slightly panicked. "Their breathing is so loud. It's right there, just like that night." She wrapped her arms tighter around herself and looked up at the wall in front of her. After a long moment and a few calming breaths, she spoke again, quietly. "My body physically won't let me put my guard down," she said, dropping her gaze to the floor.
     I didn't know whether to step over there and hug her or to keep my hands to myself. I never knew which to do whenever the topic of her attack came up. I really wanted to hold her and comfort her, but I was never sure she'd be comfortable. She looked over at me and tried to smile, but it didn't hold. She shrugged.
     "It's okay, either way," she sighed, "I can usually get in a twenty minute power nap on the bus between check and show." This time her shy little smile stuck around. I would have smiled back if I hadn't absolutely hated what I'd just heard.
     I shook my head. "It's not okay," I disputed, "What happens when you sleep into the start of show because you're too exhausted to wake up from your nap?" Nina's eyes drifted away from me. The look on her face told me that she hadn't thought of that. With a shake of my head, I started over to the bag I usually bring with me on the bus. "When's the last time you had a solid night's sleep?" I asked, looking over my shoulder at her.
     She shrugged. "Not since before the show in Bradford," she said, "But I've been na-"
     "Bradford?!" I spat, turning completely around to face her, "Nina, that was ten whole days ago!"
     "I've been napping!" Nina protested.
     I shook my head at her, turning back to my bag and digging through it, "No, baby," I scoffed, "That's not gonna help. You have to get a good night's sleep. You're gonna drive yourself insane doing that." There it was. I grabbed onto the key cards to the hotel room I'd be using tonight. The room number was scribbled on the plastic in black marker. The Bozz had given them to me earlier so that he wouldn't forget after the interview. I held them up as I turned to her again. "You can sleep in my room."
     Nina dropped her arms and shook her head. Her eyes were wide in surprise, or maybe fear. I knew she didn't like the idea of potentially being caught in my room on tour, but I wasn't going to let her run herself ragged without sleep.
     "I-I-I," she stuttered, shaking her head in those tiny little shakes, "Uh-uh, I can sleep on the bus!" I raised an eyebrow at her. We both knew those bunks were not comfortable to sleep in. She held her hands out to either side. "That's what I've been doing when we stop at hotels," she told me, "I sleep in my bunk because I can't sleep in that hotel room with them."
     "You need a bed," I insisted as I stepped toward her. I took one of the key cards and held it out to her. She stared at it like it was a snake. I shook the card, wanting her to take it. "Nina, please," I added gently, "it will make both of us feel better."
     Nina's gaze rose from the card to me, but she narrowed her eyes. "What if someone sees me?"
     "You've got a key card, they're gonna assume it's your room," I countered, "The Bozz will be here with me, the band doesn't care. All you've got to do is make sure none of the crew sees you." Surely she could do that. All she'd have to tell them was that she was going down to the bus like she normally did. Really, it was so simple, she was just too afraid of getting caught.
     I shoved my key card in my pocket. Stepping forward, I took her hand and pressed the other key card into it. She didn't smile, but she didn't frown either. I think she was too tired to argue anymore. Her fingers curled around the plastic as she pulled her hand away from mine.
     "Fine," she relented softly, "You win. I don't want to fight about it." I smirked as she put the card in her pocket. There was another knock on the door. We both looked over that way, both of us knowing who it would be.
     "Come in," I yelled, taking a step back from Nina.
     As Reg, our head of security, stuck his head in the door, Nina launched into some cover babble. "I'll check with Finn about those backline amps, but I don't think we'll be able to do anything," she said. I glanced over at the bodyguard to find him pushing the door open to reveal the lady who would be interviewing me. I offered her a polite smile and then returned my attention to Nina like we'd been having this conversation all along.
     "If there's nothing we can do, then there's nothing we can do," I said with a shrug, shaking my head a little as well, "I just thought it might help the sound."
     Nina nodded and then shook her head. "Yeah, it doesn't as much as you'd think," she replied. She looked over at Reg and the interviewer and pulled her hands out of her pockets. The lady was waiting patiently in the doorway for our conversation to end. "Anyway," Nina sighed, "I've got to get back to work and you've got an interview, it appears."
     "Thanks, anyway, Madame Sound Tech," I said, following her toward the door. Nina made some soft sound of acknowledgement and smiled pleasantly at the other woman as they danced around, out of each other's way. I heard her mumble something to Reg that made him snicker and then she was gone. Reg stepped into the room with me, my protection in case this woman was a crazy fangirl, and closed the door behind him as I turned to the interviewer. "Sorry about that," I chuckled, "Hi, I'm Jon."
     "I know," she giggled, holding her hand out for me to shake, "Bethany Holte, Number One Magazine. I'm absolutely thrilled to get to do this interview!" I shook her hand and nodded at her enthusiasm. Thrilled really was a great word to describe her; she looked like she wanted to scream. I tossed a glance in Reg's direction and then looked back at Bethany, motioning toward the couch and chairs the crew had arranged for the interview.
     "Shall we?"
     The interview ran almost a whole hour longer than it was supposed to. I didn't know who to be annoyed with, Doc, The Bozz, or Bethany Holte. I was too tired to care. Bethany had asked about a lot of things that I shouldn't have had to think about, let alone talk about. Dorothea, in particular.
     To be exact, she'd asked about my girlfriend. She'd used Dotty's name, presumably, under the assumption that Dotty and I had gotten back together. I had no idea where she'd heard that information, but I didn't correct her. Furthermore, that mistake was probably confirmed in her mind by the fact that I smiled each time she asked about my girlfriend, despite my refusal to answer any questions about her. It was just amusing, like an inside joke.
     I leaned back against the wall of the elevator and closed my eyes, wondering to myself if Nina had actually gone to my hotel room like I'd told her to. She could just as easily have told me what I wanted to hear and done her own thing. I wouldn't put it past her.
     When the elevator dinged and the doors slid away, I pushed off the wall with a tired sigh. The hallway felt longer than it actually was, giving my mind time to drift as I stuck my hand into my pocket for my key card. I stopped in front of the door and pulled out the little plastic card. It unlocked the door to room 409 without a problem and, when I pushed the door open without a sound, my eyes fell on an adorable sight.
     I'd always figured that the first time Nina would sneak into my hotel room would be for sex, but there she was, sound asleep in my bed, alone. I smiled a little as I stepped into the room and closed the door as quietly as I could behind me. The bedside lamps were on and the half open book in her hand gave me the impression that she'd tried and failed to wait up for me. It didn't matter. I was just glad that she was actually sleeping.
     I took off my jacket and rested it across one of the chairs by the window. Next, I pulled off my boots, then my shirt, and finally my pants, looking over at her every so often to make sure that I wasn't disturbing her. Tiptoeing toward the bed, I turned off the lamp on her side of the bed. Then I reached over her and very gently pulled her book out of her hand. Without the book there, her fingers curled up and she pulled her hand back toward herself, but she didn't wake up.
     With another small smile, I set her book down on the bedside table and made my way around the bed to join her under the covers. I watched her as I settled into bed and pulled the covers over my legs. Nina didn't move until I reached over to turn off the lamp. I paused mid-reach as she grumbled in her sleep and rolled onto her back. After waiting to make sure she wasn't waking up and, finally deciding that she wasn't, I turned the lamp off and laid my head down on my pillow.
     Now, you'd think with how tired I was that I'd be out in a second or two. Not me, though. The insomnia I'd developed over the first two tours was rearing its ugly head tonight. I was still tired, but sleep just wouldn't find me. Nina turned again. I rolled my head to look at her. I knew she needed the rest, but I was a little jealous that she was so fast asleep. By the moonlight creeping in through the crack in the curtains, I could just barely see her focused expression. That face made me wonder what she was dreaming about.
     She rolled away, onto her back again, with another wordless noise. My eyes began adjusting to the dark as I watched her turn her head this way and that like she couldn't decide which position she was most comfortable in. Her hand nearest me was up in her hair, twiddling with a few strands in what looked, to me, like a nervous manner. It took me a minute or two to realize that her relaxed breathing wasn't so relaxed anymore. I turned and propped myself up on my elbow, ready to shake her awake if I needed to.
     But I didn't have to.
     Without warning, Nina was awake. She sat up with a gasp and just as quickly started coughing. I was surprised, but I kept a careful eye on her as I sat up too. She looked around the room as she struggled to regain control of her breathing. As she got to a point where she could take bigger breaths, Nina ran her hands along the comforter in front of her like she was looking for something. She looked over at me just before her hand made contact with the covers over my leg. Nina pulled her hand away, still staring at me with wide eyes.
     "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.
     Nina let out an airy sob that almost instantly turned into real tears. She brought her hands up to cover her face as she cried. All I could do was stare. I'd never seen her cry before; she was always so strong about everything. I couldn't imagine anything terrifying enough to make Nina cry. I didn't know what to do. I felt so useless. She tried in vain to wipe her face, but the tears kept coming. After a moment's more hesitation, I reached over and pulled her toward me.
     "Hey," I whispered as she hid her face against my shoulder. I could feel her tears falling on my skin as I rubbed her back. "Calm down," I mumbled into her hair comfortingly, "It's okay. Shh, it's okay." My words didn't seem to help all that much. I petted her hair absently, not really sure what else to do. She shook in my arms. "What's wrong?" I asked.
     At first Nina didn't answer. She just leaned into me and wept. Her face was wet against my shoulder as I smoothed her hair back. Her fingers were curled into a fist against my chest. I looked down at her and asked her again. She pulled away from me a little, slowly getting control of herself.
     "It-it," she stuttered, "It was.. It was just a nightmare." She wasn't looking me in the eye, and something about her voice felt odd. It almost felt like she was convincing herself. She shook her head in those tiny shakes, fighting to take deep breaths.
     "You wanna tell me about it?" I suggested. She looked up at me and frowned a little. She didn't say no, but she also didn't look like she wanted to share. After a long moment, she blinked and looked down at the comforter.
     "In this dream," she sighed reluctantly, "a friend of mine woke me up, telling me I was late. I don't know what for. It doesn't matter. I got up and realized that I was at home." She paused and took a shuddering breath. Her voice was cracking again when she went on, "I was back home and everything that's happened this year, hadn't." A couple more tears started slipping down her cheeks again. Bringing her hands up to her face once more, she sobbed, weakly, "It was all a dream. Tour and you and everything! None of it had happened!"
     I reached over and pulled her back to me as her resolve collapsed into tears. Her fingers were cold where they pressed against my shoulder as they covered her face. I resumed stroking her hair comfortingly, though it felt like I wasn't helping at all.
     "I'm here," I murmured, rocking her back and forth in my arms, "You're here. You're okay." I could feel her shuddering breaths trying to get more air in again, like she'd gotten over this wave of tears. Considering this, I dared another question. "Why does that scare you?"
     She didn't move away this time. She only shifted to lean against me more comfortably. I hugged her close, still rocking her gently. She took a shaky breath and let it out before answering.
     "Imagine if you woke up tomorrow," she breathed, "And discovered that Runaway had never taken off. That all the work you'd put in to get this far had never happened. All the success of Slippery was just a dream. Imagine how angry you'd be." She sounded like she was trying not to cry again.
     I stared at the space over her head as she gave me a long pause to think about it. I didn't need it though; I knew I would be furious. I'd put a lot of effort into this band. I'd even changed my name. Yeah, I'd be fucking pissed if I woke up one morning to find that I'd imagined it all.
     Nina's voice was quiet when she spoke again, slowly. "I have never been happier in my life than I have been on this tour with you. This is the life I've always wanted," she explained, "Being a part of music somehow. Seeing the world. Loving someone." She looked up at me, her eyes still sad, blue pools from the tears, and snickered a little. "Someone who cares enough about me to make sure I get some sleep." I smirked too. Her smile faded a little as she cuddled up against me. "To wake up and find out that none of it had actually happened.." she trailed off and shook her head against my chest, but didn't finish the thought.
     That was it. That's what was so terrifying. Nina was afraid losing everything she cared about, everything she'd worked for. Made sense, everybody on Earth was afraid of that. She was right, I'd be angry if I suddenly lost everything too. I didn't know what to say, how to comfort her. I just kept rocking her, trying to find some words. Finally, I settled on a reliable old cliché.
     "It was just a dream," I told her, "I'm here. I've got you." I kissed the top of her head affectionately and continued muttering to her. "We're still on tour. We've got a show tomorrow. Sleep," I instructed gently. By this time, Nina's tears had long stopped. Her breathing had already become far less shaky. I rocked us both gently for a few more silent minutes until even I started to get tired.
     Unsure of whether Nina had fallen asleep or not, I very carefully laid back, bringing her with me in my arms. Keeping one arm securely around her, I pulled the covers up over both of us. Nina shifted slightly so that she wasn't laying on me. She rested her head on my arm and yawned. I smiled at her through my drowsiness.
     "Goodnight babe," I mumbled as my eyes started to fall closed.
     There was some unintelligible response from Nina that sort of sounded like "I love you," but I wasn't sure. I yanked my eyes open to look at her for a second. Her eyes were already closed and she already looked sound asleep. I thought about saying it back, but she looked so relaxed and comfortable; I knew saying it would start a conversation and she needed sleep more than she needed anything more from me. With a small smile, I yawned and looked up at the ceiling, my eyelids starting to droop once more. Before I knew it, I was asleep.