I am doing my part. Well, as best I can when I’m not deep in my head. I am on a road of contentment for the first time in years in both my personal and professional life. I am in a lyrically lucid headspace as far as my music, and personally, I feel the cracks in my soul being magically healed, all because a couple weeks ago a girl terrified me, and I couldn’t walk away. Such a tiny, little thing to be afraid of.
Orlando is amazing, and Tampa is just as good. After that, we are in route to Atlanta, where apparently a new tour bus is waiting for us. Fucking crazy. Abso-fucking-lute insanity.
The rest of the world doesn’t know it, but that one fucking song Memphis’s ass tricked me into singing fixed something upstairs in the old brain. For once, as fucked up as it sounds admitting it to myself, I felt accepting of the applause at the end.
River is high all the time, astronomically so. I try to reel him in, knowing damn well it won’t work—never has before—so I just become the safety police to an out of control drummer. I don’t mind. Billy tagged in while I was tripping on my own shit; therefore, the least I can do is give him a break.
When we walk out of Philips Arena in Atlanta, and a big, black, shiny bus pulls up with the words Steel Total Destruction in silver splashed over the faded shocker symbol, we all kind of freak.
“That is one sexy bus,” Memphis claps his hands together and rubs them up and down. “Tales, only groupies allowed on this bus, babe.”
“What?” Her smile falls and she looks mortified.
“You’ve got to start thinking about my needs as a fucking rock star. I can’t be just a boyfriend. Hell, I have a bus to prove it.” He is teasing her, but she doesn’t seem to be catching on. “You don’t mind the groupie thing, do you, Tales?” He reaches out, but she pulls back, so he grabs her and pulls her into his arms, whispering in her ear. She starts giggling and covers her mouth. “You up for it?”
She nods and throws her arms around him. “Heck yes.”
***
Sixteen hours on a bus with Tally and Memphis in the one bedroom, banging like newlyweds; River clam baking in the bunk under me; and Billy on his computer across the aisle may sound like a fucking dream, but it isn’t. As much as I used to hate flying before the back-row blowjob, I would give anything to be in the air with her.
Just the thought of it gets me all worked up. I try to call her and get sent to voicemail then immediately get a text message.
Getting Noah to sleep. How’s the bus? Call you soon.
After an hour, she still hasn’t called, so I close my eyes and try to go to sleep. The image in my head makes it impossible, though. Fuck!
With my dick like steel and my mind on her, I grab my phone and look at her websites. She posted something ten minutes ago. I have no problem with her little man being in front of me; that’s half the reason I feel the way I do about her—she is so fucking strong and so damn soft at the same time. But I will be damned if I’m second to a review site.
Knowing I’m acting like a little bitch doesn’t help, not with a hard-on in my sweats and her on my mind. As a result, I climb out of my bunk and grab a couple tissues from the bathroom then climb back in, hoping to ease at least one of the burdens I’m carrying. Maybe then I will be able to sleep, hopefully for the next fourteen hours.
I click on her other site again to find another post up, and she didn’t schedule that shit. She’s still up.
I prop the phone up, shove my sweats down, and grab ahold of myself. Then I look over at my phone, making sure it’s positioned right, and hit video.
“Miles and time don’t erase you from my mind, Sonya,” I say as I begin to stroke myself. “I’d rather hear your voice, but you give me no choice.” I continue to stroke. “So I have to take matters”—I pause—“in my own hands. Do I have your attention now?”
I hit send before letting myself finish the job.
She calls as I am about ready to come, and I grab the fucking phone, wanting to hear her voice as I do.
“Hey,” I groan.
“You really shouldn’t send things like that, Finn. What if—”
“I’m going out of my mind missing you. Say something nice, Yaya; don’t argue with me right now.”
“I miss you, too,” she whispers.
“More. Tell me more.”
“Well, the picture made me miss more than just your arms.”
“Yeah, keep going with that thought. What did you miss about it?”
“It’s beautiful, big, and strong, Finn. Just like you.”
“More. Tell me more.”
“I want you in my mouth again. That was a first for me. I didn’t think I’d like it, but damn if I don’t crave it when—”
“Almost there. Fuck, look what you are doing to me. Never needed it or wanted it like I do with you.”
“Oh, my God, are you—”
“So much hotter than I ever thought it would be. More, dammit, more.”
“Really?” Her voice hits a higher pitch than usual.
“Without a doubt,” I groan.
“I’m oddly turned on by this.”
“Fuuucckkk,” I hiss, dropping the phone to grab the tissues.
“Are you there?” I hear her voice.
“Don’t hang up. Just give me a minute,” I grunt as my come fills the tissues. I then grab the phone. “Hey.”
“Did that really just happen?” she whispers.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“Desperate?”
“I don’t mind playing second fiddle to your little boy. I actually would insist if it wasn’t the case.”
“Good to know,” she says quietly.
“But the website, that pissed me off.”
“The what?”
“You were posting your reviews,” I tell her as I pull my pants up and head back into the bathroom.
“You’re stalking me?”
“I guess I am.”
She laughs, and I can’t help seeing how ridiculous it must seem to her.
“I like what we have going, not the distance. That”—I look at a tissue in my hand—“blows.” I toss it in the toilet and flush. “But the you and me part, I like that a lot. I guess what I’m trying to say is I miss you. I miss you so damn much I’m jerking off to get your attention.”
“Well, it worked.” I hear a smile in her voice. “And now I am seriously jealous of your hand.”
I laugh as I climb back in the bunk. “You coming to Cleveland still?”
“I’m trying really hard to make it work, Finn. I am. And I miss you madly.”
“Good to hear.”
“I do, more than I can even understand. I never thought I would feel this way about anyone.”
“I feel it, too. I feel it deep.”
“How is this gonna end?” she asks so quietly I can barely make it out.
“Let’s not focus on the end, Sonya. Let’s focus on Cleveland.”
“It’s going to hurt like hell.”
“Oh, no, Yaya, it’s gonna feel so damn good. I promise you that.”
***
“This is a fucking joke,” I say as we go through the notes we made at the Excel Energy Center where we held the auditions. “None of them work, not fucking one.”
“Someone needs to go back home.” River chuckles.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap.
“Don’t,” Memphis says, warning him.
I look around to find they are all looking at me. “Fuck that. Let’s have it.”
“No big deal, Finn.” Billy pats me on the back, and River huffs out loud.
“Apparently it is. Spill it,” I say, looking at River.
“Do you think we’re all stupid? We know you and Yaya have something going on. You weren’t hanging with me or Billy the whole first part of the trip. You didn’t say goodbye or even come back with an explanation as to why you skated through the Florida tour stops. You’re on that fucking phone all the time, and you sure as hell aren’t pulling your weight here.”
“You better step the fuck away from the pipe and recognize who you’re pissing on right now, and let me tell you, it’s not yourself like it used to be,” I lash out, immediately feeling like shit about it, but fuck him.