Only Summer Loves October - Ryden

Chapter Ten - Analyzing My Reactions, Analyzing His Intentions

Now that the agonizingly hot summer is close to its end, being in a public space is almost bearable. I watch across the street as a mime and a human statue seem to be half way through a heated debate. I haven't worked out if they've joined forces in order to get more money but it's entertaining either way. The mime is keeping in character of course - it's something I've always been fascinated with, communicating only with theatrical movements. My catalog of emotions are limited so I don't think I'd make the cut, but I appreciate the art regardless. The human statue painted head to toe in gold paint however doesn't impress me, anyone could do that - even Jon who can barely toast a slice of bread.

I move my attention to Jon now who's got his legs up on a coffee table that's decorated with bottle caps, not giving a fuck about the deeply offended glare Pete's giving him for disrespecting the furniture. This has been the first time seeing our new tour bus, and the first time we've ever been interviewed in one. Except this isn't our tour bus, ours is already in Seattle waiting for us to fly out because fuck traveling for two days. This one, according to Pete, is an exact replica of our bus though, and I could get used to it pretty quickly. As promised there's three nicely sized double beds up top, a fridge that can actually fit enough beers to go around and it's even got a fucking shower that doesn't sit inconveniently over the toilet!

The couch in the lounge area curves behind the drivers cab and we've been strategically placed for photos to be used for the magazine. They've put me and Brendon in the middle and he's desperately trying to hide his struggle in stopping our knees from touching, but I couldn't care less - he needs to chill out.

 I'm going insane after twenty minutes or so of stereotypical questions for a radio interview, now this ass from some magazine is drilling us for some inside news. I'm about ready to wrap this thing up. "Well guys, thanks for inviting us it's been great. Before we leave I'm sure our readers would all love to know why today's interview has been held on a glamorous new tour bus?" The heavily tattooed guy gestures in anticipation. Pete stands eagerly behind the interviewer nodding at me to answer.

I'm distracted again by the street performers, a poorly balanced stilt walker is now involved in their argument. I would happily hire these guys to be our support act, it could be like some kind of circus. Our fans love that sort of weird shit.

"Ryan?" Spencer urges me.

Brendon's knee nudges mine briefly and he coughs nervously and rubs his legs. I smirk at him, poor boy can't get comfortable without worrying that he might touch me.

"Hmm?"

"Why are we having the interview on the tour bus?" He reminds me.

"Because Pete told us we had to..."

The interviewer chuckles then writes something down, he looks at Pete who quickly hides his furious expression by laughing it off.

"Oh yeah" I continue. "Our new album is getting released this Friday and tickets for the tour go on sale on the following Monday." I smile patronisingly and stand up. I'm not a fucking street performer.

Pete quickly adds "the tour will be kicking off in Seattle next month so make sure you guys are ready because they'll sell out in no time!"

"Thanks for your time gentlemen." I nod graciously to each person on the bus and walk out.

I'm stopped abruptly with a firm hand on my shoulder. I turn around expecting it to be Pete, preparing myself for one of his talks about how important announcements are for the band and how me being disrespectful isn't doing us any good. I'm proven wrong when it's not Pete - it's Brendon, I look back at him and suddenly his grip doesn't seem so tight.