I Just Wanted to be Edgy Too

Chapter Ninety-Five

Van

It was raining in Leeds, which made it difficult to smoke outside. I crammed myself under the awning in front of the hotel, and wrapped my leather jacket around myself, while I rushed through my final fag for the night.

We'd spent the day doing promotional photos, acoustic sets, meeting fans, and completed a few Q and A sessions for various podcasts and video interviews. We tried to leave the tension at the door, but it meandered in and lived between the beginning and end of questions and answers. We made it through though, and I was knackered.

I tossed my fag on the ground, putting it out with the toe of boot before kicking it under a car. Not the most eco-friendly thing to do these days, but the rain would wash it somewhere more polluted than the city. I combed my fingers through my damp hair before returning to the inside of the hotel, giving a flick of the wrist to the bartender, who I'd settled my tab with minutes before my fag. I headed up to my room, and wondered if it was too late to call El. She'd texted me earlier that she was meeting Slim, and that she loved the acoustic version of Worst.

I swallowed my guilt down as I walked to my room. I'd picked that song on purpose. It wasn't one to originally be picked to be played stripped down, and it certainly wasn't a contender to be a single. It was meant for the guys to hear, for her to hear, too. But mainly for the guys right now. Maybe they'd understand if they could see me at my most vulnerable. Maybe they'd get why I'd jump off a ledge for her, if they could see just past the surface of what we'd been through.

The response to the song so far, was madness. Even the label called Steve on it, asking if we'd consider doing another acoustic set with it and a few other songs for a deluxe version of the album that could release a few weeks after. We all were mulling over the possibility of it, but hadn't made any final decisions yet. It meant going back to the studio, it meant taking at least two days of our week off away from us. We'd all exchanged glances over it, none of us knowing quite what to say on it, but the eyes of my bandmates on me, made me feel uneasy. They were waiting for me to make the call, and none of them seemed confident in what I'd say. We decided to table it and discuss it later.

I made it to my room and laid down on the bed, reaching for my phone and pressing the screen lightly. I didn't have any new messages from Ellie, and part of me wondered if she was still out with Slim. My nerves bit into my brain for a moment as I considered the possibility. It wasn't that I didn't trust Ellie, it was that I didn't trust him.

I pushed my thoughts to the side stared at the ceiling for a few moments while I contemplated writing or working on new material. I wasn't tired yet, and all my fag had done was key me up. I reached for the journal on my bedside table, but the knock at my door grabbed my attention.

I stood up on a stretch and glanced through the eyehole, seeing Larry outside of it, his hands resting on either side of the door. I frowned. What did he want? We hadn't spoken much since the restaurant, and I was okay with it. I had nothing else to say.

I cracked open the door and his shoulders fell.

"Steve call you?"

I shrugged. "Didn't see any missed calls from him. Why? Extending our tour?" I sneered.

Larry shook his head. "No...he just...he wants to talk to you."

I leaned against the frame. "About what? Have I done something? Something else to piss the lot of you off? Was I out too late smoking?"

Larry shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Then what is it, Lare?"

"He said he had some news. Wants to talk to you first and then the guys. Told me to come get you."