The Rocker's Muse

That felt like a gut punch, even if I knew it was true. Fuck. If she noticed, how many other people did, too? I nodded. “That’s what I was worried about.”

“It hurts me to have to admit that to you.”

“Don’t be hurt. It’s good for me to know these things. I appreciate your honesty, Emily. More than you know.”

“Are you going to see a doctor soon or…”

“I have an appointment when the tour stops in L.A. No one knows, though.”

“No one else has said anything to you?”

“No. Which is really fucking weird, if you ask me.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

“It’s not the end of the world.”

“Yeah. But it’s scary, I’m sure.”

I stared into her green eyes for a moment, reluctant to leave even if the stares from the people up front told me I’d overstayed my welcome. “Are you sure you don’t want to grab a bite to eat?” I picked up one of her hair scrunchies and began winding it around my hands as I waited for her response. There was something oddly calming about the mindless motion.

“We have even less time now than we did before. Plus, it’s still warm and toasty on this bus, and I’m not moving.”

“You’re no fun,” I teased.

“I’m not that hungry anyway. Layla got chicken fingers earlier, and I had some. I think I’m good for the night.”

“Okay then.” I pouted.

She turned to look out the window, and I admired her beautiful profile. I would’ve given anything to know what she was really thinking.

I kept twisting the scrunchie. “Are you happy, Emily?”

“On the tour, you mean?”

“In general, but sure, yeah, on the tour, too…”

“In general? I’m working on it. On the tour? Actually, yes. It’s been an amazing distraction from reality. I can’t say I’ll be any clearer on what I want to do with my life when it ends, but it’s a good experience. And it will look good on the resume, too.” She yawned. “The one thing I’ve been struggling with is sleep, though.”

“You’re having trouble sleeping on the bus?”

“Yeah. It’s psychological, I think.”

“How so?”

“I have this fear that we’re going to get into an accident. So I can’t relax. I feel like I need to be on alert.”

“You’d rather be awake and alert if the bus crashes? Wouldn’t it be better to be asleep and not know what hit you?”

“No. I’d die of a heart attack from the shock of waking up that way. If I could see it coming first, I’d be better able to handle it.”

I chuckled. “But you eventually fall asleep, right?”

“Gradually, my tiredness wins out, yeah.”

“If I were on this bus, I’d sing you a lullaby or tell you a bedtime story.”

“That would be awesome, but you should probably rest your voice.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go get something to eat if you’re hungry?”