As Rob began to speak to her, clear and direct, an already weak and emotional Jane felt like crawling away and hiding, especially as his eyes looked up to her. Her immediately shot away and chose a focal point in the wet asphalt beneath them that glistened in multiple different hues from the oil on the road, and she gnawed on her bottom lip as it quivered from both crying and the cold air whipping around the pair.

But as he continued on, her eyes began slowly trailing back to him, but when they reached his shoes, Jane couldn’t force them to travel up any further.

”We may not seem compatible to other people.”

She couldn’t help but scoff lightheartedly at the sentiment without looking up to him. It was surely true, so much so that Jane was beginning to feel that way herself, that maybe they would never be able to make things work between them.

”…but I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

A smirk began to tug at the corners of her mouth, but she took a deep breath to not let herself get carried away. After all, there was still a large chance that Rob’s memory of what happened between them was still hazy, and what he had said was just a secret his subconscious has told her. Hell, it could’ve just been bullshit; Jane had said some ridiculous things in the past while inebriated.

”Because I’ll tell you now what I told you then—“

Finally, her eyes shot up to his, widened with anticipation, and that was when his hands reached out for her and he leaned in. Although they had kissed many times in the past, this felt… different; there were no other motives behind it, no tension buried underneath the surface, no lust driving it. It was soft and simple, and much to Jane’s dismay, short. But soon after she realized that he was going to continue speaking, she was glad they weren’t wasting any time.

”I love you, Jane.”

Now, her eyes, although perhaps still glossy and red from sobbing only moments ago, were beginning to water again. Then, he said it once more. "I love you."

Now, Jane was never one for words; anyone could say things they don’t mean, or promise things that they would never fulfill. She loved action. Touch. Feeling. Words almost never held any weight in her mind – and especially her heart – when they were expressed to her, whether by family, friends, or past lovers. No, when Jane looked back into her memories, she remembered how she felt, or how someone touched her shoulder, or something someone did for her.

But, with Rob in front of her, confessing his true feelings for her verbally, she couldn’t believe the sensation she was experiencing. Jane was paralyzed momentarily, unfamiliar with knowing how he felt about her in the present moment, since they both always seemed to find out what the other was feeling when it was way too late, after mounds of tension had already built between them.

“Rob,” she whispered, forcing herself to say something to end the silence although she was unsure of how to continue. All the different scenarios she had played out in her head since their last conversation in his bunk did nothing to prepare her for this.

“This isn’t your fault,” she whispered again. “We’ve both just been caught up in our own shit without running to the other for comfort. I hate that I made you feel like you needed to change any part of you. I don’t want you to be like me.” Jane took a step closer slowly, but stopped once again about a foot and a half away from him. “I got…” she swallowed both her pride and the lump in her throat, “I got jealous. I was so scared you would find something in Zoe that you couldn’t in me. Th-that you’d realize how fucked I am in the head, or, I don’t know.”

Another step closer, this time causing the tip of her boots to meet Rob’s shoes slightly. She tilted her head to meet his eyes, which looked equally as exhausted as her own, causing her to briefly purse her lips in sadness.

“But… I love you, too, Rob.” Her lips parted into a slight smile, and a sense of relief washed over her after the words left her mouth. For once, instead of wanting to whisk him away to the bottom bunk in the bus, she felt satisfied standing there with him in the cold alleyway behind the venue.

“I don’t know why we go through all of the bullshit we do, but I’d rather deal with that than to not be with you at all.” Her arms were now wrapped around his waist, and the side of her face rested against the warmth of his chest, causing her to sign with comfort. In the distance, down the alley, Jane briefly spotted Andy, who seemed to have noticed her as well. It was too far to see facial expressions, but as soon as he looked in their direction, he looked away with his head hung and continued walking to where the buses were parked down the street.

Would now be the time to mention Andy to Rob? What would she say? Jane was completely confused and had no answers for anyone – even herself – when it came to their ‘relationship.’ There was chemistry, of course, both mentally and physically, but Jane wasn’t sure how far it went. Plus, when the tour was over, Andy would go back to Colorado and Jane to California. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Hey,” she murmured, deciding to not ruin the mood with any serious conversation. “I’m tired as hell. How ‘bout we both take a shower, smoke, then go to bed, yeah?” For once, Jane meant it – all she wanted to do was be next to him, unconcerned with whether or not she’d get laid. It was the first time she understood how Rob must have felt so many nights in the past with her. Better late than never.

Vienna was a gorgeous city.

They had arrived here late that previous evening, just in time to see the sky paint the white buildings in a thick glow, before fading completely. Now that light had returned with the new day, the whites and reds of the city seemed even more vibrant than before.

Rob had watched from the bus window as security escorted their’s and Vicarious’ bus behind the venue, locking two large gates behind them. It was curious, that the security seemed so much more real to him now. Whether that was due to the incident a few days ago, or simply due to the city, he wasn’t really sure.

This morning, Rob stood alone in the bathroom sometime around six-thirty. He was first up, not being able to sleep much longer. He looked at his reflection, and for the first time in a while, wasn’t disappointed in what looked back at him.

Things had greatly improved in simply two days. Rob had spent every moment of those two days back with In Bloom, either hanging out with the other guys, or spending the quiet evenings with Jane. There was a familiar normality that had settled in so quickly between then. Almost as if the two had allowed themselves to return to the way things had used to be, without sacrificing what had already happen. Sure, tons of things remained to be seen or answered; Vicarious, for instance, was a huge question mark. Jane’s relation specifically to Andy worried him if he thought too much about it, but he tried not to. He had the confidence in Jane not to worry too much about when she left alone, and filled his time with the other band members to help ease his own anxieties.

His curbside confessional had left him feeling much more at ease in the current situation, even though something felt off. Nothing on this tour remained for long. Each event seemed to carry into the next—each rise followed by it’s own fall. Their own celebrity, for instance, continued to grow. Harold had talked about it a bit on a phone call the two had together—about how the single had switched from underground to mainstream alternative radio stations. About how, when it came to fame, it only multiplied itself. “Fame is it’s own catalyst,” Harold said. Rob was sure he was quoting someone, but he had no idea who. Harold, no doubt, was enjoying his own connection to the band stateside, so had likely surrounded himself with others of his own ilk. He had already hinted at such a thing a few days ago, when he talked about hiring on a second hand to help with their already momentous finances.

In short, the band seemed to be getting money hand-over-fist, which wasn’t exactly a good thing. Rob had already had two extended family members call his number asking about funding on personal projects, and about a dozen more sending him messages over social media. The entirety of that concept through Rob off alone, even if he could afford to help them out. The truth was, Rob wasn’t sure exactly how much they had earned. Harold was constantly vague about it. Last he heard, it was “somewhere near six figures” for each of the band members, depending on how the last stretch of the American tour went once they finished in Europe.

The European tour, at least, seemed to be wrapping up into a climactic end. They had little over two weeks or so left—enough time to work their way over to Italy, then through to Spain, before sharply cutting upwards, through France and finishing in the United Kingdom. Afterwards, it was stateside again.

The prospect of leaving Europe came with mixed feelings—Rob felt both in tune with what was happening, and simultaneously separated from the worst of things. The small connection the band had formed with their fans over social media—and specifically their personal Instagram accounts—was shockingly huge. He could only wonder what would happen once they returned. But a small part of him was happy that Vicarious would be going their separate ways from them at the end of this. Too much bad blood was forming; yet another of the many things Rob feared would turn sour. That, and the feeling he got that the media was yet to be done with him.

Soon, a knock came at the door, interrupting his mental tangent. He opened it to find Austin at the other end. His eyes were nearly shut from sleep, and he looked far less aware than Rob was at the current surroundings. Well, at least he was awake. The two of them had booked an early morning radio interview that they needed to be at in about thirty minutes.

“Done jerking off in there?” Austin muttered in his usual sarcasm. “I need to shower.”

“Yeah,” Rob said, getting out of the way. He went and waited in the main living room of the bus, and turned on some music as he waited. Linus Spacehead by Wavves played on in the background, reminding him of the days he and Austin sat around at his place, smoking and talking about anything and everything. Soon enough, Austin came back outside, and the two got in a cab and made their way to the radio station.

On the way, the architecture of the buildings surrounding them was hard to ignore. Each structure around them seemed so intricately crafted, so completely made, it was hard not to admire it. The cab ride was mostly silent, save for a few questions from their driver.

Finally, the two arrived, and sat down with nice enough seeming girl, Madeline, who welcomed them warmly before starting up the interview.

Madeline: Hello and welcome back to Vienna’s number one choice for alternative! In the studio today, we’ve been lucky enough to get the newest band on the scene, In Boom! Here representing the band is bassist Austin Hull and drummer Rob Pennie. How’s the road been, boys?

Rob: Long. Hard. But mostly just surreal.

Austin: It’s definitely a lifestyle change.

Madeline: I can believe it. In Bloom was the biggest band of the summer, and now that we’re moving into fall, it seems like you’re not stopping anytime soon.

Rob: We’re touring through the rest of Europe, then back over to the Americans that missed us.

Austin: Pretty much everyone’s had a chance to see us. At least on this side of the world.

Madeline: The tour seems to have had some stressful and highly profile events taking place. Could you talk about that?

Rob: [laughs] I’m assuming you’re referring to me.

Madeline: Amongst other things, but sure.

Rob: Look, I mean—we’re just trying to get our heads on straight after our world blew up. It’s been long and mistakes were made. I’m not going to condone all the shit we’ve pulled during this run, but I think overall, it’s been pretty great.

Austin: Listening to Rob blow up is basically comical when you get to know him. Fucker just sits around and thinks the whole time. We can’t ever get him to leave the tour bus!

Madeline: Fair enough, fair enough! Typically the rhythm section gets much less press than you both have had. For example, Vicarious, your supporting act.

Rob: We’re co-headlining this tour.

Madeline: I’m sure, but to be honest, it doesn’t seem to be that way. At least, not here in Vienna. All the posters have In Bloom listed as the headliner.

Austin: I’m sure Vicarious would be pissed about that. But usually, we’re all too strung out on the road to care.

Madeline: Let’s chat about Vicarious for a second. There’s been some interesting stuff going around between the relationship, or, relationships, between your two bands. Care to comment?

Rob: It’s a tour. We see each other so much, it can hurt. But there’s really not much to talk about. We’re all pretty good friends at this point.

—

Soon enough, the interview moved to a few lighter topics, and wrapped up after another ten minutes.

Afterwards, Madeline shook both of their hands and walked with them to the front steps of the building.

“Just a head’s up,” she said. “Word’s going around about something big breaking about In Bloom. I don’t like to fuck up interviews with rumors but…just be aware.”

Rob shot her a quizzical look. “Thanks?” He nearly asked.

“Keep a lower profile,” she said. “That’s all I’m saying. Have a good one.”

She turned quickly and disappeared back into her studio, leaving Rob and Austin to their own devices.

“The fuck was up with that?” Austin asked moments later.

Rob wasn’t sure, but it sure did worry him. There was definitely enough substance to spread rumors about. But until he figured out exactly what was going on with Jane and Andy, he didn’t feel like interfering. He had cut off his ties on his own. Jane and Rob had only just mended things. Perhaps it was best to let her sort it out.

Rob stood on the curb with Austin, waiting for the cab with the two security guards the studio was kind enough to offer up. At this point, he had had more than enough fame for one day. The only thing he wanted was to get back on the bus and spend the day with Jane. In fact, after the confession, it’s pretty much all he wanted to do. 

Hopefully she’d be there. Hopefully, whatever Madeline was off about didn’t matter.

They just needed to finish this damn tour.

The busses had arrived in Vienna only an hour or two before midnight, but due to a long nap midday with Rob, Jane was wide awake. She had tried earlier to beg him and Austin to go out with her on the town, but they had scheduled an interview for the morning and respectfully declined. They hadn’t had much time apart in the past forty-eight hours, but it wasn’t by accident; ever since they had talked behind the venue, they had nearly been inseparable, and all tension that had built up was now released.

Well, almost all of it.

Jane had yet to really dig into to her connection with Andy with Rob, let alone herself. Over the past two days, she hadn’t even really texted him, and she was starting to feel guilty for the lack of communication on her end. He was an innocent bystander in this situation, undeserving of being ignored, but the more that Jane began to think about him, the more it felt like she was doing something wrong.

Logically, she wasn’t. She was going by the agreement that her and Rob had put into place, and if she had to admit, Jane wasn’t ready to give that up. Not yet.

It wasn’t like Jane and Andy were going to continue when the tour ended and they both went back home. She highly doubted that either of them would make a fifteen hour drive to see each other enough to keep up any sort of connection, and Jane had completely made amends with that fact. But, to end things between them prematurely seemed as though it would be a waste of energy.

As everyone got ready for bed, Jane shot a text to Andy.

Jane; 11:34 PM: Everyone is going to bed over here. Wanna go out for a little?

Andy; 11:38 PM: Sure. Meet me outside in 5.

One they met, they embraced each other quickly and called a cab to bring them into the city. The conversation remained light until they arrived at a bar they had looked up online. It was a dim, open spaced, packed to the brim with patrons, none of which approached either of them for pictures or autographs.

“So,” Andy began as he twirled the ice in his cup with his straw, “haven’t seen much of you lately.”

Jane sighed and nodded; he wasn’t wasting any time. “Oh…yeah. Rob and I talked after that show and he told me he loved me, and that he still wants to be with me.” She hadn’t found the courage to look up from her beer. “I guess we’ve just been spending a lot of time together since then.”

“Ah,” Andy nodded. “Are you happy?”

Jane looked to him and smiled faintly. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Andy replied as he pushed his hair out of his face, which revealed an unsatisfied expression.

“What’s wrong, Andy?” asked Jane with a furrowed brow, turning her body to face him. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to have such a conversation right then, but apparently he was.

“What’s that mean for us, Jane?” He rested his face in his hand. “Soon, we won’t be touring together. We’ll be hundreds of miles apart. Don’t give up on me just yet.”

Jane looked down when he finished. He was feeling the same way she was (whatever that was). “I know, I know,” she sighed. “But now that he and Zoe are done, and I had gotten so jealous, I feel guilty for whatever is happening between us.”

Andy placed a hand on her knee and squeezed it softly. “Who knows if we’re even going to see each other again after this, Jane?”

Her finger’s disappeared deep in to her hair as she took a deep breath. “Do we have to talk about this now? I wanna see if I can break my record for not fucking things up. I’ve got two days so far.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine. But we need to talk about this eventually.”

“Yeah,” she smirked. “I know.”



Soon, they were walking the streets of Vienna together arm in arm, laughing about a story Andy had told about a party he went to in high school. Both of them had a decent buzz on, accidentally bumping shoulders with those walking by or taking a misstep, only making their laughter increase.

A sliver of pavement separated two tall buildings to their left, and Andy quickly grabbed Jane’s hand to yank her into the the alleyway with him, and there, he brought both hands to the side of her head and kissed her with passionate.

“Andy,” she mumbled into his lips. “It’s too exposed here, we can’t – “

“I’m not trying to get laid, Jane,” he explained as he pulled away from her face a few inches. “I’m just enjoying the time we have left together, okay?”

“Okay,” Jane replied quietly, and they both leaned back into each other.

Only moments passed, though, before a bright light flashed towards them, causing them both to startle and turn towards its source: a man, possibly in his early thirties, with a large camera in his hand had just taken a picture of the two of them.

“Get the fuck out of here, man,” Andy nearly yelled as he approached the man, who ran off instantly back out onto the busy sidewalk and down the block. “I’m sorry, Jane,” Andy softened.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Jane whispered over and over again as she began to pace in the alley. “You know that’s going on the internet.”

“Hey, it’ll be fine. There had already been some rumors going around.”

“Yeah, but this is proof,” Jane groaned. “Plus, things are going so well with Rob. This is just gonna be a slap in the face.”

“Let’s get you back to the bus, huh?” he suggested as he threw an arm around her shoulder. “We’ll deal with this tomorrow.”



Jane awoke to the undeniable sensation of nausea in her stomach, and she abruptly hopped down from her bunk and dashed for the bathroom, puking as soon as her knees touched the cold tile floor. She only had three, maybe four beers last night. Not enough to make her vomit…

She only had time to wipe her mouth before Sam had appeared in the doorway with his phone facing her.

“This is on three news sites so far,” he said in his usual neutral tone.

There it was. Her hands were on Andy’s chest, one of his hands were in her back pocket, and another in her hair. They were deep in a kiss in an alleyway late at night.

“Damn it,” Jane cursed, her voice still weak from vomiting. “What’s it say?”

“Jane, front woman of In Bloom, caught kissing Vicarious’ vocalist Andy Ramirez passionately in a Vienna alleyway. What does this mean for her and Rob’s relationship?” Sam shrugged as he finished, sticking the phone in his back pocket.

“Jesus, is Rob here?”

“No. He and Austin left for the interview about an hour ago. You know, you gotta deal with this soon. The next two weeks of shows are gonna be huge, and Harold will flip if shit doesn’t go well.”

“I will,” she whispered as she looked up to him. “Hey, Sam?” she called to him as he began to walk away.

“Yeah, J?”

“Promise not to tell the guys about me barfing?”

“Yeah.”

Jane eventually returned to her bunk to be greeted from by a text from Andy.

Andy, 9:42 AM: Shit. Worse than I thought.

Jane, 9:44 AM: Yeah. I’m probably gonna lay low for a while.

Andy, 9:45 AM: I understand.



After some digging, Jane released her longboard from a pile of bags tucked away in the bus’s storage, and after brushing her teeth and putting on some warm clothes, she took off out of the lot the busses were parked in and out onto the street, slowly weaving her board from left to right on the barren road. Her earbuds were playing Candy Flips by Spires, and she was enjoying the song so much that she caught herself closing her eyes for just a second too long, nearly hitting a parked car.

“Shit!” she yelled as she curved her board, but made a split second decision to run off of it instead of trying to ride it out. The board shot out, maybe thirty feet, and just as it slowed, the undeniable crack of it breaking in half rang through the air, along with the cursing in a foreign language from the driver of an SUV.

Jane ran towards it to see what she had suspected. It was nearly clean down the middle, with jagged pieces of wood sticking out from both sides. She picked both up in her hands and walked back to the sidewalk to plop down on a bench, and that was when her lip began to quiver.

Wait, what?

”Am I really about to cry over my fucking longboard?”

In all fairness, she had owned it for ten years, replacing the trucks and grip tape frequently to keep it ridable. She knew she needed a new one, but this one had so many memories attached to it.

---

Jane and Rob had gotten into yet another argument while they were driving home from the studio together about the single, with her in the passenger seat. If she had to look back now, she wouldn’t be able to remember what words were exchanged, besides her last statement: “Fuck this. I’m skating home.”

At the next red light, Jane exited the vehicle and began to push her longboard down the dark road, expecting Rob to take off in the car ahead of her. Instead, without saying a word, he drove next to her for blocks. At first she was annoyed, her pride not even allowing her to look over to him, but after about a mile, she found that she was beginning to smile, and she got off her board and once again got in the passenger seat.

“Asshole,” was all she said with smirk before they endured the rest of the ride in silence.

---

Tears were rolling down her cheeks, but Jane couldn’t help but laugh at the memory as she sat with the broken board in her hands. She had to talk to Rob about the news articles he had probably already seen, but she felt it’d be best to calm down first before she saw him face to face. Maybe a text?

No, a text would be too ingenuine.

Jane put her phone up to her ear and waited as it trilled over and over again, eventually going to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. I got out for a little to clear my head. Um, a car ran over my board.” She laughed and took a deep breath. “Anyway, I don’t know what you’ve seen yet, but I didn’t want you to think I was running away from it. I, uh, I don’t know what to do, or to say besides that I’m sorry… I’m sorry and I love you. Not Andy. But, um, I’m gonna head back soon, so I guess I’ll see you then. Bye, Rob.”

She ended the all and rubbed her temples as millions of thoughts raced through her mind:
Why did she barf this morning? What if she was pregnant? Who would the father be? Can she even get an abortion out here? Will Rob want her to end things with Andy? How would Andy react? Is Rob upset with her over the picture?

Instead of getting up to walk back to the lot, Jane decided to give herself a little more time to center herself. She put on Fever Queen by Nothing and laid herself down on the bench, closing her eyes tightly and breathing deeply.

Jane didn’t look forward to what could await her back at the bus.

Rob and Austin climbed into the cab, but before Rob could tell the driver the way back to the lot, Austin slipped forward to him.

“Take us to a nice coffeeshop,” he said suddenly. The driver nodded, and the car pulled off of the curb.

Before Rob could ask, Austin turned to him:

“I mean, come on. You’ve got to be tired of drinking beer at ten in the morning.”

“Alright, alright.” Rob said, leaning back. Spending time with Austin was probably for the best. His relationship with Jane had already improved so much, it was only fair to try and make amends with each person in the group. He had no idea how long the feeling would last.

On the way, Rob pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two of them. After talking to the driver, he put it on Instagram with the caption:

Me and @Austin_Hull are hitting up Caffe Amouri Coffee Roaster in Vienna. Come on out if you’re already awake and waiting for the show.

“If I’m going to get ambushed by fans,” Rob said, “then it’s going on my terms.”

Austin couldn’t help but laugh, and the two continued talking all the way to the shop.

Once they got inside, Rob and Austin were greeted by a sizable group that had gathered in the past ten minutes. Rob and Austin took turns shaking hands and ordering coffee, and soon they had dragged a few tables around and hung out with the dozen or so people. Another ten or so filed in as they waited, and the two band members made sure to sign any merch placed in front of them.

It was a nice experience, to say the least. Rob’s impromptu experiment had worked, and for good reason. Aside from interviews, Rob—and to some extent, the rest of the band—hadn’t made any effort to be accessible to the fans. Part of it was the stress of the road, but the other half seemed to be little more than negligence. Meetings like this—with twenty people or so, that he could learn the names of—were much more comfortable than confrontations outside of the tour bus.

A half hour later, many of the fans had gone off, promising to be at the show. Rob and Austin both took names down to get the fans some free stuff that night at the show, and after taking some photos, had about wrapped up the meetup.

“Maybe that’ll help with our ‘press problems,’” Austin joked to Rob as the two made their way outside. “Still dunno what the fuck that Madeline girl was on about.”

A part of Rob wanted to pull out his phone to check and see what the news had been saying about them recently, but the better half of him argued against it. It was only depressing to him to see—rumor mills churning out noise about Jane, along with some people still on about Rob’s radio blowup back in the states. He had avoided it a while ago, but the buzzing in his pocket forced him to pull out the phone regardless.

1 New Voicemail from Jane

Rob listened to it as he and Austin waited for a cab to arrive. By the time the voicemail ended and Rob climbed into another cab, his happier mood had already faded.

“What’s up?” Austin asked, seeming to have noticed.

“I don’t know yet,” Rob said, pulling out his phone, “but it’s not good.”

Of course it couldn’t last, Rob thought to himself. It never could. He braced himself for whatever was about to come up. What could it be this time? More nudes? No….he doubted that. And felt bad for even assuming. Maybe it was something with Vulture back in the states? No…Jane wouldn’t apologize for that.

It wasn’t until the image of Jane and Andy locked together that Rob realized what Jane had apologized for.

Rob felt his skin start to boil immediately—his face rushed with blood, and he couldn’t do anything more than stare at the screen.

“Rob,” Austin said, having looked over to the phone. “Breathe man. You’re gonna pop a blood vessel.”

Slowly letting some air out, Rob scrolled down to see more news. In fact, Variety seemed to have a new exclusive, posted no more than ten minutes ago.

“Well, it can’t be any worse than that, right?” Rob heard Austin say next to him but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He wanted to scream. Right then and there, he wanted to yell until his vocal chords fried. Why couldn’t things be normal for just one fucking day?

His phone loaded up the Variety article, with the headline:

In Bloom members living Vicariously through their co-headliner.

Scrolling down, Rob could see the newest image of Jane and Andy together, but even more was to come. Below, several more images appeared; these, with himself in them.

First, and image of him and Zoe out on the park bench, yelling to each other. The day they had broken things off.

Next, an image of Rob confronting the fan outside of the bus a few days ago. The image was less than flattering—with Rob waving his hand as her as the fan was taken away, screaming.

Than, a picture of Aaron helping Rob into the bus after his drunken night. Rob looked kneeled over in this photo, mid-vomit, for all the world to see.

The article was even more damning—a long piece on the ballad of Rob and Jane. About how Jane was living it up with Andy while Zoe supposedly dumped Rob, leaving him in a downward spiral.

Suddenly, a new text message popped up on screen.

10:25AM, Zoe: We need to talk about this.

Rob watched as the messaged again, and stared blankly at his screen. The entire ride back, neither member said a word. Once the cab had parked, Rob exited and walked directly away from the busses. From the venue, and from anything else that threatened to make this any worse.

He had made his way down an alleyway close-by, heading Austin’s footsteps following. Soon, as he was passing a pile of garbage near a dumpster, he felt Austin’s hand atop his shoulder.

“Rob—“ Austin managed to get out.

Finally, Rob snapped.

”FUCK!” Rob roared, and immediately slammed his fist over and down into the nearest trash bag. It exploded on impact.

”Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” he roared, over and over again. He continued to beat the ever-loving shit out of the garbage in front of him. Soon enough, he punched his was through a glass bottle with his left hand, and immediately saw blood pouring from his arm. He grabbed it with his free arm, slamming his back against the wall and sliding down it, sitting on the asphalt.

Austin approached after a moment—silently tearing the bottom off of his old My Morning Jacket shirt and tying it around Rob’s bleeding wrist.

”Hey,” Austin said forcefully, locking eyes with Rob. ”Breathe. You need to breathe, man.”

Rob nodded, but said nothing. In his mind, everything he, Andy, Jane, and Zoe had done was now public to the world.

And for the most past, a lot of that was true.

“Seriously, dude,” Austin said. “We can discuss this later. But you need stitches. Now.”

—

Thirty minutes passed quickly enough, and Rob watched as the doctor loaded the last of the stitches into his forearm. Twelve in total.

“It was a clean cut,” the doctor said in a heavy accent. “It should heal quickly enough. We’ll give you a shot of antibiotics, just in case.”

“Can I play tonight?” Rob muttered through clenched teeth.

“I don’t recommend it,” he said. “Not at all. But…you should be able too. It did not cut any serious muscles for your wrist.”

“Thank god,” Austin muttered from his chair in the corner. The doctor soon excused himself and stepped out of the room once he finished.

“Any word from the others?” Rob managed to ask. The stitches had certainly taken the edge off of his anger, but he still didn’t dare look at the phone burning a hole in his pocket. He had felt it vibrate multiple times, but couldn’t bring himself to look at it.

“Harold’s still assembling a game plan,” he said. “He still wants us to play but we’re instructed not to breathe a word about anything. Just play the set and leave. He’s not happy.”

“Vicarious?” Rob asked.

“I think they’re pulling out for tonight,” he said. “But I’m not sure. Harold can’t even reach them. It’s pretty much….pretty much on us to get in touch with them.”

Rob nodded, his head nearly pulsing from the stress. All he wanted right now was to be away from all of this. But…not quite completely.

He wanted to be with Jane. He couldn’t quite explain it. He wasn’t exactly happy with her—in fact, he wasn’t sure if he was really angry at her or not. But all he wanted was to be with her.

All he wanted more than anything right here, right now, was just to be with Jane.

It was what drove him to leave the hospital, picking up a cab and riding with Austin back to the lot.

It was was drove him to suck up the courage to open the door into the tour bus.

And as he did so, he had no idea how he was about to react to any of it.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Jane’s continued fling with Andy, or the press release about it. Or how the press seemed to think Zoe had cut ties with him, instead of the reality of it being the other way around. Or how he felt about going one more day on this insane, bat-shit crazy tour.

He had no idea what he was going to say. Or who he was going to be angry at. Or who he was going to forgive.

He had no idea at all.

Jane had reluctantly made her way back to the bus to see that Rob had yet to return from his interview, let alone call her back. “Sam?” she called out as she walked down the aisle to find him laying down in his bunk. “Any word from the guys?”

“No, not yet,” Sam shook his head. “More shit online though.”

“What now?” she groaned as she took his phone from his hands. This time, it had nothing to do with Jane and Andy, but Zoe and Rob. A picture of the two on a bench, seemingly unhappy with each other, then one of Rob vomiting outside of the van, and then another of his encounter with the overbearing fan. Jane scrolled back up to the top image – of him and Zoe – and read the words that detailed a supposed break-up, with Zoe being the instigator.

She handed back the phone and ran her fingers along her scalp. “Fuck, man. I didn’t know it happened like that.” It was true, her and Rob really never discussed what happened between him and Zoe; Jane had always just assumed that he was the one that ended things between them. Obviously, she was wrong.

“I didn’t either,” Sam chimed in, turning off his phone screen and shutting his eyes. “What’s it matter, though?”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, annoyance in her voice.

“I don’t know, J. You’re off doing your own thing with Andy. What difference does it make what happened between the two?”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Sam,” she mumbled as she headed towards her bunk, but immediately got the urge to vomit once again, and she made a detour to the bathroom.

After she finished, Sam came up behind her as she was wiping her mouth. “Pregnant?”

“No,” Jane replied quickly. “Just my nerves.”

“Got it,” Sam said flatly. “Look, I know we’re not that close or anything. But I know you well enough by now to give you a piece of advice.”

“Yeah?” Jane said sarcastically as she looked up to him. “What’s that?”

“I think life would be a lot easier for you if you would just start being honest with yourself.” And with that, Sam grabbed his phone from his bunk and exited the bus, letting a blast of cool air in from the weather.

Jane clenched her fists until she heard the bus’s door close behind him as if it would keep her from yelling something at him that she’d later regret. It wasn’t that Sam was wrong, but rather Jane having to hear a harsh truth she wasn’t ready for that pissed her off. She knew that the days of maintaining blissful ignorance towards the people around her were coming to an end and that she would soon be slapped with reality.

But Jane didn’t want that moment to be right now, so she quickly closed the door to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, and splashed some water on her face so that she would look more awake before quietly opening the door and stepping out into the aisle. No one had arrived yet, thank God, and Jane quickly grabbed her bag and dashed out the bus’s door. Sam’s voice could be heard yelling after her, but she didn’t go back.

On the other end of the lot, Jane could see a cab pulling in, and her heart began to thump loudly in her ears as she walked around to the back of the bus, waiting until Rob and Austin entered it. Another minute or two passed – they seemed like hours – then the taxi she had called finally arrived. She nearly dove into the backseat, taking a deep breath and moving her hair from her eyes to see the man up front staring at her.

“Where to?”

“Um,” she bit her lip. “Just downtown. Anywhere there.”

“Okay.” The man began to pull out of the lot, and as Jane looked over to Vicarious’ bus, she saw Andy step out and give her a look of both concern and confusion, to which she only turned her head. Another person she didn’t want to deal with right now.



Jane had been aimlessly walking around the city for a few hours by now, drinking from a flask that was in her bag from the night before. She had even stopped in to a drugstore and got a pregnancy test, which now sat unopened in the bottom of her purse. Definitely something she wasn’t going to deal with right now.

Her sunglasses concealed her eyes, puffy from random bouts of crying, as she stepped into a pub off the street and sat down at the bar.

“What can I get for you?” a younger man with a thick, German accent asked as he set a coaster in front of her.

“Rum and coke, please,” she replied quietly without looking up.

“Ah, American,” he began as he grabbed a glass from the wall behind him, “Here with school?”

Jane snorted. “No.” She looked up to him and smiled faintly. “Tour. I’m, uh, I’m in a band.”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen the flier. Vicarious and um… what was the other one called?” He placed the finished drink in front of her.

“Thank you. And In Bloom. That’s my band.”

“You’re the girl I saw in the internet, no? Making out with some guy?” The man smiled as he leaned on an elbow in front of her.

“Unfortunately, yes. And that’s not even my boyfriend.”

“Well, now I know why you’re drinking this early,” he winked. “A friend invited me to your show tonight. Said both bands are pretty good.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know if Vicarious will be playing with all the drama going on. That was their vocalist in the picture with me. And the other girl, Zoe, well, the picture of her was with my boyfriend.” She sighed, but chuckled right after. “We’re all a mess.”

“Wow,” he shook his head. “That’s pretty confusing. You’re in an open relationship?”

Jane shrugged. “I think so. I mean, yes. But everything’s so complicated, I don’t know what the rules are anymore.”

“Well,” the bartender started, “you don’t look like a girl who follows the rules too much.”



The bartender stayed in a flat above the pub, and that was where Jane ended up after another drink or two downstairs. The flat was also where she began the second leg of her journey through this city, after of course, sleeping with him. His name was Conrad, a thirty-two year old who actually owned the pub, and had also dabbled in DJing over the years, a subject that Jane didn’t pay attention to as he spoke about it.

Yes, he was nice. And yes, the sex was decent, but it all offered only a fleeting moment of happiness in the midst of all the chaos that not only surrounded her, but her bandmates as well. And after that moment of satisfaction passed, it was as if she was worse off than when she started. Guilt was now added on the list of everything Jane was feeling.

Well, more guilt.

Her phone had been vibrating all afternoon, and she reluctantly pulled it out to check what she had missed.

Missed calls:
Harold, 8:43 AM
Harold, 9:37 AM
Andy, 10:45 AM
Harold, 11:32 AM
Andy, 12:19 PM
Harold, 2:56 PM
Harold, 3:31 PM

No Rob.

She decided against looking at the eleven texts she had waiting, but instead to get the call to Harold out of the way. She could imagine him pacing around his ocean-view office, red in the face, and frantic with all of the news that hit the internet, and it made her laugh.

“Hey, Harold, sorry,” Jane said, but stopped after knowing that he would interrupt her.

“What the fuck is going on over there, Jane? I’ve been trying to reach you all day. I’m getting calls left and right about the pictures, and Rob hasn’t talked much to me either. Are you guys sleeping with members from Vicarious?” He spoke quickly, but the harsh tone he used was the one that Jane had grown accustomed to when she got his calls.

“Yes.” Not only was she drunk, but she was growing tired of answering to Harold as if he was her father. “I’ve been fucking Andy, and Rob’s been with Zoe. That ended though.”

“Jesus Christ, Jane,” he nearly screamed. “Could you guys not fuck one thing up? Vicarious won’t answer any of my calls either, so I have no idea if they’re dropping tonight. Sam hasn’t been able to give me much information. What am I supposed to tell all of these people?”

“Harold, I need you to send me my insurance information,” Jane demanded calmly.

“W-what?” Harold was taken aback by the change in subject. “No, Jane. Just tell me your symptoms and we’ll ask your doctor here.”

“That’s not gonna cut it this time, Harold. Send me the information, please.”

“Whatever. Fine. But, please tell me what I’m supposed to do with this mess.”

Jane sighed. “Um, I don’t know.” She scratched at her head, not knowing if what she was about to do was a bright decision or not. “Tell them it was my fault. That I was the reason that Rob was all fucked up in that picture, and-and that the reason him and Zoe looked angry at each other was because he was venting about me. And…” she took a deep breath, “that what happened with Andy was a onetime thing. I don’t know, Harold, just make me take the brunt of it. I’m used to it.”

They both sat in silence for a moment before he finally spoke up. “Okay.” Then, the call ended there.

Jane wasn’t sure how it would go down, or how they’d react, but she did know that she still didn’t want to go back to the bus. She would probably regret telling Harold to spin everything to put the blame on her, but she felt as if she deserved it. Not only did she have to deal with Andy and what exactly their relationship was, and what truly happened between Rob and Zoe, but now she had slept with someone else. Granted, it didn't mean anything at all; Jane had simply just regressed back to her old ways of dealing with her issues. Which, really, wasn't dealing with them at all.

And the fucked up part of it all was, the person that she ran away from this morning was the only person she had wanted to be with all day. Call it pride, call it stupidity, but she couldn't force herself back to the bus, so she searched and searched until she found a small, quiet coffee house and decided that she'd stay there until she could go to the venue for load in. Perhaps she'd know what to say to Rob then.

Rob opened the tour bus to find a surprisingly quiet cabin. After all of the endless fears had soared through his mind in this moment—all of the different ways this conversation would turn out, he didn’t think of this one.

And as he marched past the living room, past the cots, and pulled the curtain back on Jane’s bunk, he realized that this was one of the options he hadn’t have accounted for.

That Jane wouldn’t even be here.

That she would leave them.

“She left,” Sam said. He had been sitting on the couch when the door had opened, and chased Rob down as he searched for her. “I didn’t get to talk to her much.”

“What did she say?” Rob immediately asked, turning to face Sam.

“Nothing, dude,” Sam said. “I couldn’t get a think out of her. She definitely threw up, though.”

Rob froze for a minute, trying to think of whatever that could have meant. As soon as nothing really came to mind, however, he dismissed that last part entirely, and moved back forward to the front of the bus.

He wasn’t even sure where he was trying to go.

“Rob,” Austin called out, having caught up to him. He had been tirelessly trying to keep up with Rob. “Dude, just wait a minute—“

Rob felt his hand across his shoulder, and shook it off without a second thought. He seemed to move without reason—take action without even thinking about it. He opened the front door to the bus and moved due right, heading straight for the Vicarious tour bus.

He could hear his two bandmates call after him as he moved. In fact, he could even make out the flash of a light bulb to the right—mounted atop a far-reaching camera from the fence nearby.

Not that it mattered. What could one more photo of him do? What else could possibly happen?

When he had entered the bus, it was confusion. A swirling sea of emotion; of which he wasn’t sure which he had felt. But now?

Now it was anger. The same anger that had driven him to blow up on the reporter back in the states. Or slice his arm open earlier that day. The typical demeanor he had always held—his timid nature, lack of action, all of it… felt slowly decayed by the tour. And something about seeing those photos…seeing the sheer lunacy of what he had done. Of what Jane had done. Of all of it. Like watching a movie, or reading a book…and knowing now in retrospect just what they had done. What they had done to each other.

His thoughts faded again as he knocked thrice on the metal door.

In a few seconds, the door opened a crack, and Trent’s face peered out through the opening. His eyes shot deep into Rob. Funny enough, that they had been pretty good friends not so long ago. Now? He was most likely the last person Trent wanted to see that day.

Silently, the door opened, and Rob stepped inside. The door closed quickly behind him.

“If it wasn’t for the paparazzi, I would’ve slammed that door in your face,” Trent said as he peered out the blinds.

Inside of the tour bus, the air was coated in a thick haze. The overwhelming stench of pot hung in the air, clouding the visibility down considerably. Immediately around here, Rob could see Matt sitting in the booth nearby; eyes down to the bong in his hands. No one else seemed around, but the door to the back room remained closed. The same room Rob had spent so much time in. The walls of this bus had seen so much history—even only in the past few days. And he could only wonder what took place in that back room tonight.

“Alright,” Trent said, after checking to see if the coast was clear, “the fuck do you want?”

“For better or worse, man,” Rob started, “We need to fucking talk about this. We’re touring together. We have a show tonight. We have to do something, and we have to say something.”

“The show?” Matt asked, looking up from a long hit. “Fuck the show, man.”

“We’re not going on,” Trent said. “Not like this.”

Rob watched as Trent’s eyes scanned down to Rob’s fresh stitches, then back to his face.

“It does’t seem like you’re in much shape to go on, either,” he muttered.

“Where’s Zoe?”

“Fuck off,” came the curt reply, as Trent made his way around Rob and back over to the booth. Rob turned to face Trent again.

“She asked to talk,” Rob said. “Not me.”

And, like clockwork, the back door opened, and Rob could see Zoe’s slender form through the haze on the other side of the doorframe.

“Come on,” he could hear her say. He followed quickly, away from Trent and Matt and entering the room, before closing the door behind him.

The moment it did, Rob immediately wanted to turn back. The idea of being in a room alone with Zoe again was daunting. The amount of things they had never concluded—the moments they shared and the places they went—it was all so fresh in his mind. And, if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t truly over it. And how could he be? The number one rule of breakups was to cut contact. How could that be done on a tour?

The web of relationships and affairs between the two bands was too complicated to explain, even to himself. But he had to. He had to deal with this.

Even if Jane refused.

He tried not to think of her as he moved to sit onto the bed. “Andy?” He asked simply.

Zoe shook her head. “He saw Jane leave the bus, and took off soon after.”

“You think he’s going after her?”

“I don’t know,” Zoe said, sitting gently on the bed a good distance away. “I don’t think so. He just walked off. He just needs some time to get his head back on straight.”

Rob nodded. What could he say? He scanned his thoughts for what needed to be discussed, but where paragraphs were before, nothing lay dormant now. Being back inside of this room was bringing up more than enough memories tainted by what came after them.

Rob slowly relaxed his body, sliding back onto the bed. “What the fuck are we supposed to do, Zoe?”

Silence followed after that. For what felt like hours, the two of them stayed in the room, just staring off. It was probably only a minute or so. But it was clear that Zoe was feeling the same way Rob was. Good and bad. Everything and nothing. Such a strange way to meet after what had happened.

“I suppose you’re mad at me,” Zoe finally whispered out into the open air. “You certainly look like the fool in the article.”

“I think I was,” Rob said. His eyes stared blankly into the ceiling. “I think we both were. …what were we thinking?”

Rob could hear Zoe softly begin to sob.

“I just…” Zoe tried to start. After a moment, she continued: “I just want to go home, man. Back to Colorado. Back before it all began. I used to…I used to think that this was what I wanted out of life. And I almost left because of my break-up with Andy. But touring…playing our music live? It was what I wanted. And now…now I’m not so sure.”

Rob wanted desperately to empathize with Zoe. To comfort her. But all that had come before…perhaps it was better off if they didn’t comfort each other.

“What are Trent and Matt thinking?” Rob asked, changing the subject.

After a moment, Zoe could be heard collecting herself. She seemed to straighten up, before: “I think they just want to go home.”

“And Andy?”

“He seems like he wants to continue. I think…I just—I don’t know.”

Rob sighed. “What about your manager?”

“He’s cancelled tonight for us. We’re skipping Venice and going straight to Naples. He thinks we should play a solo show in Naples while you play the set in Venice, but I don’t know. I don’t think that’s going to help anything.”

There was another long silence, before she spoke again: “We’re leaving as soon as Andy comes back. After we get some distance, we’re going to decide the rest of the tour.”

Rob nodded. He slowly pulled himself up from his laid position, seated now next to her.

“I think I’m going to have to put out something. Anything,” he said softly. “We can’t just be silent. It’s just going to fester out there.”

Zoe seemed to think for a moment. “I understand.”

Rob gently lifted a hand up and over, grasping at Zoe’s thigh.

“Good luck, Zoe,” he said, looking her in the eyes directly. And for some reason, he felt as if this was truly the last time he would see her.

Only time could confirm or deny.

Zoe nodded. “You too.”

—

As soon as Rob re-entered his tour bus, everyone inside (save for Grant) quickly approached.

They stood in silence around Rob as he spoke: “I talked to Vicarious. They’re not playing tonight. They’ll tell us more later.”

“That’s it?” Austin asked. Rob nodded.

“Jane?” Rob asked. Sam only shook his head.

He sighed deeply, before moving back to his bunk and pulling out his laptop. He came back to the main room, sitting himself on the couch and opening the screen.

“I’m going to say something,” Rob muttered to himself, just loud enough for the rest of the entourage to hear it.

“What?” Aaron asked. He seated himself down by Rob.

“I have to,” he said, louder. “Even if it does nothing.”

—

An hour later, Rob scanned back over the text:

Dear Friends,

You’ve all heard some pretty nasty stuff about us in the news today. A lot of private, personal moments were taken far out of context and shared online for all the world to see. We’re deeply hurt by this result, but we know there’s little we can to now that the information is out there. Sometimes life is more complicated than a set of photographs, but perhaps those are easier to sell.

Unfortunately, our friends with Vicarious have decided not to play at the show tonight in Vienna. As for us, we’re going to keep going. Because a couple of photographs isn’t going to stop us from giving Vienna the good time that they paid for. And while we respect Vicarious’ decision to pull out, we’re hoping to put this all behind us as soon as we can.

Please, try not to focus too much of what others tell you of us. We all just want to give you a great time and make some great music. And we hope to see you all on the road, very soon.

Much Love,

In Bloom

—

Rob slid the laptop over to Austin, then Sam to read. Both nodded gently and gave their word of approval.

“Send that to Harold,” Rob said, standing up. “Have him put that out immediately.”

“What about Jane?” Lyla asked, standing over the laptop and reading the text with Aaron.

“We can’t wait for her,” Rob said. “We don’t have time.”

He moved for the door.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

Rob turned to face him:

Where do you think?

—

Ten minutes passed to find Rob seated on the gravel atop the concert venue’s rooftop. His phone had been left back on the bus, and the only thing he carried with him was a pack of cigarettes—of which, he was nearly finished.

He had solved the problem—or at least, in his mind, he had. Perhaps he had only put a band-aid over the dam that had broken. Or maybe he had only bought them a nice before the vultures that moved about them would come to feast.

But at least he had done something. And that was more than Jane had done.

Only hours ago, he had wanted so desperately to see her. To figure this out with her. So that together, they would’ve been able to handle it. Just as they had been together after the night outside the venue. As they had been together these past few days.

Fuck me, right? Rob thought to himself, and the thought made him laugh.

It felt like the first time he had laughed all day. Perhaps it was fitting, it was at himself.

Because it sure as hell felt like the joke was on him.




A few hours (and a few concerned patrons) later, Jane was snapped out of a sort of trance by her phone vibrating in her pocket.

“Hey, Austin,” Jane sighed, “what’s up?”

“The show starts in an hour, J. You’re gonna be here right?” His voice sounded more paternal than upset.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave now.”

“…You okay, J?” Austin asked quietly.

“I’ll be fine. Is Vicarious playing tonight?” She knew the probable answer already, but she wanted Austin to confirm it for her.

“No. Actually, they’re leaving in a few minutes. They might drop off the tour.”

“What?” Jane stood up from the table abruptly, nearly knocking her chair over. “I’m coming.” She hung up the phone, grabbed her bag, and hailed a cab down as quickly as possible. No, Jane didn’t want to deal with Andy, but if he was leaving tonight, she knew she’d be upset with herself if she didn’t say goodbye to him.

The cab ride felt like an eternity, but when they arrived in the parking lot to see Vicarious’ bus on and waiting to leave, reality hit her at once.

She paid the driver and nearly fell out of the taxi, then dashed towards the bus to be greeted by Andy opening the door. “Jane, where’ve you been? I’ve been trying to – “

“You’re leaving?” she asked between breaths as she continued to approach him, stopping a foot or so away.

“Yeah. We’re heading to Naples to do our own set.” He frowned as he explained it.

“And the rest of the tour?” she almost whimpered as she cocked her head to the side.

Andy shook his head. “Not sure. It’s not looking good though. The label that wants to sign us isn’t a fan of the bad publicity we’ve been getting because of, well…” His voice trailed off. By the look on his face, he was as pained as she was.

Jane looked down to the ground between them and nodded weakly. “I get it.”

“Hey,” he whispered as he put each hand on the sides of her head, making her look up to him. “I had fun with you, Jane. You’re the only reason this whole tour was bearable.”

That was when tears began to well up in Jane’s eyes. She knew that she’d have to say goodbye to Andy soon, but this was all catching her off guard. Thoughts of telling him that she might be pregnant crossed her mind, but what would that do? Even if she was going to keep it, there was a 50% chance it wasn’t his, so what would be the point? Her eyes squeezed shut with frustration, causing tears to roll down her cheeks.

“Jane,” he said as he wiped them away. “I’m sorry I have to leave with all this shit going on. You’ll be fine, okay? You have my number.”

Jane nodded and used her glove to blot her nose. “Yeah.”

The bus’s door swung open, revealing Trent. “We got to go, Andy.”

“I’m coming,” he replied sternly as he faced Trent briefly, but he turned his attention back to Jane in front of him. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” she forced herself to say, her voice shaking both from the cold and from crying.

His fingers tightened in her hair, pulling her towards him, and he kissed her strongly until Trent hung out of the door behind them once again.

“Andy, let’s go.”

“Come on, man!” he yelled back to him, obviously frustrated, then he leaned in, this time kissing her much more softly than before. “Bye, Jane.”

“Bye, Andy.”

And in what seemed like only a blink of an eye, Andy disappeared into the bus, and it took off down the parking lot and out of the gate, leaving Jane out in the cold, dark night by herself. She stood still for a few minutes until their own door opened, revealing Lyla.

“Jane?” her soft voice rang out, breaking the silence. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she called back, sniffling after. “I’m good. Do you know where Rob is?”

“The roof,” Lyla pointed upwards, “I think, anyway.”

“Thanks.”



The ladder wobbled as Jane pulled herself up each step, every inch higher making her question whether or not she should even go see Rob. If things weren’t already awkward between them, her disappearance probably made things much, much worse. But, at the end of the day, she loved him, and she had to try to make things better, or at least, let him know that she cared.

Once eyelevel with the rooftop’s floor, she paused when she saw Rob’s back; he was looking over the small wall down to the city below completely still. After a deep breath, she forced herself up the last few steps and walked towards him, gravel crunching underneath her boots with each step. Once by his side, she sat down next to him, but instead of meeting his eyes, she looked down over the wall with him.

“I know,” she began, her voice still wavering, “you might be mad at me. I shouldn’t have ran away like that. I just freaked out this morning.” The water vapor coming out of her mouth from the chilly air gave her the idea to grab two cigarettes out of her bag, one for Rob and the other for herself, and she lit it quickly and exhaled a large cloud of smoke. “And I know there’s a lot we need to talk about, but if its okay, do you mind if we just sit here?”

Without waiting for an answer, she leaned her head, which was covered with a black beanie, against his shoulder, and she closed her eyes from the comfort she received from such a simple movement. And for about five minutes, they stayed in that exact position, only moving to take drags from their cigarettes.

Soon enough, they were interrupted by Aaron, who popped over the rooftop to let them know that their set was in five. Jane got up first, wiping the gravel dust from her jeans, then she walked over to the ladder and climbed down, entering the venue as quickly as possible. Austin nearly collided with her, holding up his phone closely to her face. “Did you see this?”

“What?” Jane asked as she squinted to read the bright screen. Another article, this time with bold letters at the top reading:

”Molloy causing problems for both In Bloom and Vicarious”

“Let me read it,” Jane mumbled as she grabbed the phone from his hands and began to scroll down.

---

”A trusted source told AMOne that Jane Molloy, front woman for In Bloom, is to blame for most of the rumored turmoil between them and the band Vicarious, who are touring together in Europe right now. The picture of drummer Rob Pennie and Vicarious’ bassist Zoe seemingly fighting on a park bench was actually a session of him venting about his troubled relationship with Molloy, probably about the relationship developing between her and Andy Ramirez, Vicarious’ vocalist.

In Bloom released a statement earlier today regarding the rumors:

“Dear Friends,

You’ve all heard some pretty nasty stuff about us in the news today. A lot of private, personal moments were taken far out of context and shared online for all the world to see. We’re deeply hurt by this result, but we know there’s little we can to now that the information is out there. Sometimes life is more complicated than a set of photographs, but perhaps those are easier to sell.

Unfortunately, our friends with Vicarious have decided not to play at the show tonight in Vienna. As for us, we’re going to keep going. Because a couple of photographs isn’t going to stop us from giving Vienna the good time that they paid for. And while we respect Vicarious’ decision to pull out, we’re hoping to put this all behind us as soon as we can.

Please, try not to focus too much of what others tell you of us. We all just want to give you a great time and make some great music. And we hope to see you all on the road, very soon.

Much Love,

In Bloom”

Was the statement just a cover up to spare them more bad press? Is Jane the reason for Rob’s recent outbursts and drunken nights? Is she truly responsible for splitting up the tour that seemed to be doing so well? AMOne will be following this story closely to bring you updates as soon as we get them.”

---

“Why would they say that about you?” Austin asked, obviously angry from the article.

Jane just shrugged. “I don’t care. Who, uh, who wrote the statement?”

“Who do you think?” Austin asked with a frown, then walked past Jane to go get his bass.

Emotions began to bubble up inside of her once again, giving her the fight-or-flight sensation, but before she could make a decision on which she wanted to do, a stagehand instructed her to check the mic quickly before the set began. She nodded and obeyed, soon being blinded by the bright lights that illuminated the stage and opting to put her sunglasses back on.

“Check, check,” she spoke quietly into the microphone. “Check, heeeeey, check, check. It’s good man.”

Jane looked behind her to see the rest of the band already filing in to their designated spots, but her eyes remained locked on Rob until Sam began to play the opening to their first song.

“Hey, everyone,” Jane’s voice boomed in the room, “we’re In Bloom from Long Beach, California. You guys know that, right?”

The crowd responded with a cheer.

“Alright then, let’s get shit started.”



Jane’s performance was… good. It was hard to give her all when she felt like there wasn’t much to give. The day, as a whole, had been devastating, and she was completely exhausted from it all. Now, the man she loved who was only a few feet behind her, probably hated her, and he had yet to find out what she had even done that day. If she could, she’d go back in time and never start hanging out with Andy, and she definitely wouldn’t have slept with Conrad today. There would be so much that she would do differently if she could, but the worst part about it was that she knew that she would keep fucking things up. Probably until Rob grew tired of her shit. Who knew, maybe he finally was.

The last song began – the single - and as she attempted to sing the first line, her emotions completely took over, causing her voice to crack. Jane put up a hand to Sam, telling him to stop playing the riff, and soon, the only sound in the venue was murmuring between patrons.

“Um,” Jane began, unsure of how this would play out. “I’m gonna pick one fan to sing this song with the band instead of me. Put your hand up if you wanna come up.”

A multitude of hands shot up from the crowd, and Jane chose one at random: a girl no older than eighteen who quickly rushed the stage with a toothy grin.

“Have fun,” Jane said quietly to her with a smile before, then exited the stage, and as she left the venue, she could hear the girl begin to sing with the band playing behind her. Hopefully, the guys wouldn’t be too upset about it.

She beelined for the bus as she held back tears, but once in the comfort of their temporary home, Jane broke down, falling to her knees in the kitchen area and weeping loudly. At the moment, she truly hated herself and everything that she had done that led to her being on the floor of the bus. Every dumb decision she made. Every pill she took or beer she drank. All of her selfishness. She was so ready to just go back to Long Beach, forget about In Bloom, and to become a bartender again. A nobody.

Soon, a curtain was bulled back, and Grant appeared, scaring Jane half to death.

“Jesus, man,” she mumbled as she picked herself up to a sitting position. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here.”

“That’s okay,” he replied in his thick accent. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Just a lot going on. I’m, uh, I’m done. I’m sorry.” She stood up slowly and walked to the back of the bus, staring at Rob’s bunk below hers. God, all she wanted to do was have him hold her tightly, to kiss her forehead and tell her he loved her.

That’s probably not what he wanted to do, though.

Either way, after a deep breath, Jane decided to crawl into his bunk rather than her own. If anything, he could always sleep in hers. But as she nuzzled herself into the corner and squeezed her eyes shut, she prayed to whoever was out there that he would sleep next to her.

Rob heard Jane’s soft approach, and felt her form sit down beside him, but he couldn’t really bring himself to turn to her.

He had figured that someone would have approached sooner or later. Their set was in just moments, and he had been the one to argue for the show to go on. Either with or without Jane. He had been pretty confident she would’ve come back (as she did), but couldn’t really feel much solace for it. In face, he wasn’t feeling much of anything at the moment. Just the cool air against his skin and—now—Jane’s head resting atop of him.

She soon requested her usual—silence and contact. Feeling each other—being with each other, without so much of a discussion. As mutual understanding. Rob tried to fight off the feeling that Jane should’ve known better. Knowing he would be mad at her departure, only to return and ask that no words be said between them.

So he obliged her. The two never said a word after hers, and they simply sat together—their minds surely apart. Rob thought only of the issues he would need to deal with that night, on the bus. The phone calls to Harold. Organizing an interview. Figuring out which steps to take going forward. He was mad at himself for his own actions; his indecision, his hair-trigger temper, his outbursts…

He felt like a child thinking of things he had done so commonly for so long. Perhaps this morning was an epiphany. Maybe slicing your arm open made you realize that you needed a mental change. Or maybe not.

Rob looked down to his arm at the stitches and grimaced slightly. Regardless of what the doctor said, he was sure the set tonight was going to hurt.

—

He found himself in the bathroom about ten minutes later, cleaning up before set. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips; the last of the pack he had only purchased hours ago. Through the haze and into the mirror Rob could see his own reflection; long hair tucked underneath a beanie, straggling hairs hanging from his beard that gave him more the appearance of an indie folk band than anything else. Stark grey lines stricken beneath bleary eyes.

He might have looked better than the last time he had really looked at himself, but he was certainly showing signs of the fatigue from the day. Shockingly enough, his morning retreat with the fans had still happened only hours ago—after the interview that warned him of the incoming bullshit.

A part of him wanted to call Madeline and ask her for some advice. Maybe since she knew, she would know what to do. But as always, a stagehand interrupted his thoughts with a knock at the door—the band had already delayed ten minutes more than they should have, and had an especially long set by behest of the venue, in order to cover losses from the cancelled tickets. Whether most or only some of the concertgoers had pulled out in the wake of Vicarious’ cancellation, it was only to be seen after the show.

Rob walked out from the bathroom, immediately grabbed a beer from the craft table, and walked out onto stage to considerable applause. It was strange how the group approached the stage now—one at a time, each with their own little moment in the spotlight. Perhaps soon enough, they’d need a blackout and a big entrance. Or a large curtain drop. The logistics of which made Rob nauseous at the thought.

The bright lines cast large flares of light into his eyes. He couldn’t truly make out any of what was around him, but could see Jane’s familiar form in front of him. Her head was turned towards him with a familiar, slight tilt.

He blinked twice and looked back down to fiddle with his kit. He needed to scavenge up every ounce of energy he had left, and a come-to-Jesus-meeting with Jane on stage was not part of the plan. At least, not now.

Maybe it was a little fucked up, but she did ask that they didn’t discuss this. It would be hard to accuse him of the silent treatment when both of them were expected to perform—right here, right now.

Rob tapped off the high hat once Sam started the show to give him a beat, and the four took off yet again.

—

Towards the end of the setlist, Rob had just about given his all. Slight dribbles of blood oozed from his stitches, down his hands and onto the kit. It wasn’t the first time he had bled on his kit, and he was surprised no one had gotten a clear shot of it from the press pit. The drier part of him laughed at the thought of younger drummers thinking it was “metal” of him.

The song soon stopped suddenly. Rob looked up from his little moment of fervor to see Jane stumble through a fan participation event.

A cover up, for how her voice had given out moments earlier.

Rob tried to keep up a good face; softly playing the main groove of the single to keep up the energy instead of dropping out completely. He looked to Austin, and used a nod to count him back into the fold. He followed suit, managing to play four tones that matched the key of the song. The two locked into a sort of quiet, filler-beat, that played off as the fan was walked to the stage by a clearly-perturbed security officer.

Rob couldn’t help but crack a light smile as he and Austin seemed to prove their own reputation as a solid rhythm section—holding back just long enough for Sam to set the new fan up onto the mic, and—with a few well-placed drum fills—counting the song directly back in as if Jane had never stopped.

Once the single finally came to an end, Rob ended the song with three distinct crashes (as opposed to his usual style of a drawn-out conclusion), and climbed forward, over the set and to the center stage. He gestured emphatically at the fan, who seemed to be nearly crying as the crowd roared in applause. Truth be told, she killed it.

Then, he Sam and Austin waved one more time, before taking the fan and slipping backstage without another word.

“Holy shit, dude!” Austin said to the fan. “You’ve got some pipes, I’ll give you that.”

The fan introduced herself, thanking them dearly all the while. Rob moved over to the craft tables and grabbed two beers—handing one to the girl.

“I don’t know what drinking age is here,” he said, “but you earned it.”

For the next twenty minutes, the remaining members of In Bloom took the time to thank the fan, meet with her friends back in the crowd, and take any and all selfies required. It was almost this sort of mutual agreement between them—their public image needed some vast improving, and if just one blog would run an ad about how happy they just made this girl, it might help. It wasn’t so much that it was ingenue of them, but more so that they knew they needed to try.

Afterwards, the three of them helped out in silence with Lyla and Aaron (Lyla again having to help Rob wrap gauze around his arm), and the group was back in the bus just in time for Grant to turn it on.

Just before they entered, however, Rob slipped over to the back of the bus and grabbed a few of their own records—probably their fifth pressing since beginning the tour. He moved inside with them, having Sam and Austin sign a few (Jane was nowhere to be seen), and he moved back outside again to the stragglers waiting near their bus. He happily handed out the copies he had, and thanked them again for coming out to the show.

He returned to the bus, spent. He collapsed onto the couch with a heap.

“If that doesn’t improve our image,” he muttered to Sam and Austin, “I fucking give.”

“That’s pretty much the last of that batch of records,” Aaron said. “I’m going to have to call Harold again to put in a new order.”

“How many times has that happened?” Rob asked. The logistics of both Aaron and Lyla’s job had both been wasted on him during the last few weeks.

“Almost every other show, now,” Aaron said. “I have to limit shirt and record sales for every show just so we have enough for the next one.”

“Holy shit,” Sam muttered to himself. It seemed that they were all taken aback by the news.

“If this is Europe, man,” Austin said, “How’s the last US tour gonna be?”

“One continent at a time,” Rob said, peeling himself off of the couch. “We’ve got bigger things to worry about right now.”

Rob slipped back towards the bathroom without a word—pulling off an article of clothing with each step. He could hardly manage to stay awake in the shower. With each minute he cranked the water heat higher and higher, until the only reason he was awake was due to the scalding water.

He climbed out soon after, drying himself off, and moving with a towel to his bunk.

Inside, he found Jane; her small body nuzzled into a corner of his bed.

His first thought was immediately to climb into her own bed. To find some time to sleep by himself. But the more he thought of it, the less of a good idea that seemed.

He loved her. That much was true. He had told her that what already seemed like so long ago. Because it was the honest truth. The other honest truth was, just because he loved her didn’t make him happy with her. Not at this moment.

Too tired to think and too weary to contest any more, Rob dropped the towel to the floor and climbed into his own bunk, and shut the curtain.

He pulled Jane close to him, got comfortable, and fell asleep in moments.

Maybe it would work out. Who knew?

At this point, he just needed to survive each day as it came. Hopefully he and Jane could work something out by then.


Jane awoke to the sensation that she had been craving the entire day before: being held by Rob in his bunk. Her hand moved to the top of his that gripped her, and a deep sigh escaped her as she wiggled her body towards his. If she had it her way, they’d remain like this for the rest of the day and never have to deal with the issues at hand, but she knew it was impossible. So for now, Jane would have to soak up every moment of peace between them.

A minute or two had gone by when Jane’s eyes shot open caused by the familiar feeling of nausea hitting her stomach. “Shit,” she whispered as she maneuvered her body up and over Rob’s without dragging hers against him, and soon as she was free from the bunk, she sprinted to the bathroom and shut the door behind her.

Once the contents of her stomach had been emptied into the small toilet, she fell backwards onto the tile below, only the thin fabric from one of Rob’s shirt shielding her skin from the their frigid temperature. Jane had always heard people talk about rock bottom. About how they’d reach a point where they knew they couldn’t continue on like they had been.

Well, if Jane had ever experienced her “rock bottom,” it would have been right there and then, on the floor of the bus’s bathroom, after abandoning the one she cared about the most, sleeping with a stranger, saying goodbye to a lover, fighting a hangover, and coming to the terms that she could be pregnant with either Rob or Andy’s child.

Her mind flashed to the unopened pregnancy test in the bottom of her purse that sat near the front of the bus. Was it too soon to check? How long had it been since her last period? Jane was never one to keep track of such things – Lena usually helped with that – so the only way she’d truly be able to tell was to take it.

”Not today.”

Rob would have to be her top priority today. He would have to be the one that she gave her undivided attention to. Well, if he wanted her attention. It was a complete mystery for now.

Jane eventually stood up and brushed her teeth before making her way back quietly into the bunk, this time facing Rob, but it was no use trying to fall back asleep. Too much emotion, too many thoughts, too many things she wanted to say. With no handle on what time it was, Jane opted to let him sleep for a while, and her fingers lightly grazed the arm that he had put back over her in his sleep.

That was when she noticed the dozen or so stitched that lined his forearm up to his wrist. How the hell did that happen? When did that happen? What had happened yesterday while she was gone?

Her lips kissed the inch of skin above it, the palm of his hand, then lowed her arm back around her. If there already wasn’t regret present for her disappearance yesterday, there was now. She should have been there for him, for the band. Instead, she ran away, not wanting to answer for the issues she caused, the ones she’d have to navigate through today.



A bit of rustling from Rob’s side of the cot released Jane from a semi-sleep state, and both excitement that she’d finally get to be with him, and pure fear of what the next conversation would be both hit her at once. Her instincts struck, and she leaned in to kiss him of the chest, but after one peck, she realized that it probably wasn’t the best way to approach him, especially when she so unsure of how he felt. So, she scooted back a bit, her back against the wall of the bus, and she propped her head upon her fist.

“Hey,” she whispered with a morose expression on her face. “Before… before you say anything, I just wanted to say that I’m really, really sorry, Rob. About everything. The pictures, Andy, leaving yesterday.” She sniffled, attempting to hold back a flood of tears that she felt welling up. “You deserve much better than that. If I could go back in time, I would do so much shit differently. Really. I just…”

It all seemed and sounded so dramatic; Jane a few months ago would laugh at how upset she was over something like a relationship. But, as far as she was concerned, Rob’s feelings were the only ones that she cared about anymore, and his opinions of her were the only ones that she would listen to. Not the press, not Vicarious. Just Rob.

Rob couldn’t manage to get a decent night’s sleep if he tried.

It was always the same—the instantaneous fallout into a deep sleep, then the light semi-sleep state he seemed to dwell in for the rest of the night.

He had finally begun to accept that the day was beginning, when he felt Jane’s body rolling over as well, positioning herself to where she could clearly see Rob. And from the look on her face, she was definitely feeling as shitty as he was. The stresses of the tour, as always, seemed to be taking a deadly toll.

His mind was lost in a fog, in the moment—her words falling on his ears as they had so many times, but he somehow found himself not thinking so much. Not processing her emotions as they came to him. The way he had always done before, perhaps, felt much less apparent in the present moment. He had been quickly pulled aside by her only moments after accepting the day had begun, and already here was another slew of apologies.

Was he cruel for thinking so? Probably so. He couldn’t hardly blame Jane for taking the time for apologizing—he was thankful for it, in all honesty. But the consistently of a morning wakeup call—the quick apologies just after the haze of the night, in sleep or in wait, felt so very tired to him regardless.

It was too much. That much he was sure of. Too much for him to think of now, when his mind wandered so little in this moment. It only wanted catharsis. A moment of escape. Refuge to anything other than this moment.

And yet, that was the same as what Jane had done. What she had given to him yesterday. For him to be so mad at her for this, and wanting to leave, was also the very thing that had gotten him mad in the first place.

He couldn’t just walk away from this—no matter how hard he wanted to. And she was, in fact, approaching him. Maybe in a way he wasn’t the biggest fan of—but in her own way nonetheless.

And through it all, he still loved her.

That much was enough to fight his bitter nature.

Without so much as a word, Rob slipped forward, towards Jane, and pulled her close to him. He laid back down onto his back, gently maneuvering her body atop his.

“Hey,” he whispered, “You can’t go back. Neither of us can. The best we can do is deal with what’s been done.”

Simple words with little more meaning than the sum of their parts, perhaps, but it was what Rob had to offer her.

“Let’s try to start this over, alright?” Rob said. He glanced at the time on his phone, before turning back to her. “We’ve got thirty minutes until we really should be getting up. Let’s just, relax, alright? Thirty minutes of quiet. Then we’ll deal with whatever the fuck’s on the other side of this curtain.”

It felt like a decent compromise; the soft spot between his new-found drive to fix the damage that had been done, and his fight-or-flight response telling him that laying in bed was surely the safest option. Plus, he just gave himself what he always felt like he lacked—more time.

Rob wrapped his arms around Jane and closed his eyes again.

And this time, if only for a few minutes, Rob slept soundly.

—

An hour later, most of the band’s entourage sat comfortably in a waiting room in Vienna. The venue here was stark and cold—the walls seeming as if they had never heard music within them, even if it were false. Crumbled papers labeled “Vicarious - Waiting Room” sat in the trash. Tonight would be a solo show.

Rob fiddled with his coffee (his second that morning already) and stared blankly into the conference phone as Harold walked the group through what was happening stateside:

“It’s bad, but maybe it’s fixable,” Harold said. If Rob had done the math in his head correctly, it was most likely late at night for Harold. “Rob, thanks for that press release. I never got a chance to tell you. It definitely bought us some time to think.”

“Yeah,” Rob said, staring into the brown liquid. “I’m no poet.”

“You don’t have to be,” Harold said. “It worked fine.”

There was silence in the room before he continued.

“I got in touch with Vicarious, but they’re not giving me any clear answers. So, for the time being, we’re going to be following them, one day behind. They’ll play in Naples tonight while you play in Venice. Tomorrow, you’ll play in Naples while they play in Rome. You’ll play Rome while they play Monaco, and so on. Until I get further word from them, that’s what I’ve told the Venues to do. We’re playing on schedule, so we’re not interrupting any other bands, but since Vicarious is ahead of us a day, they seemed to be sharing a few of their setlists with other local acts.”

“You think they’ll be alright with it?” Lyla asked.

“I don’t think it’ll last,” Harold said, “but I don’t think they’re going to come back onto the set as scheduled. As for us, we need to make a press appearance.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you want us to say, dude,” Austin cut in. He fiddled with his own drink—a beer. “We’re not trained for this shit. We don’t know what you want from us.”

“Then play that up if you have to,” Harold said. “Say that this is all new to you. That all you really want to do is play music. Rob started that angle, and I intend to stick with it, for now.”

Rob’s eyes scanned the room to Jane. Her eyes seemed tired, but he wasn’t sure what else she had been thinking of since this morning. 

“Did you schedule an interview?” Rob asked, still looking to Jane.

“Not until I figure it out with you guys,” Harold said. “Look—clearly there’s been some shit happening over there. I get that. I’m not going to get mad about what’s out there, because they’re nothing that I can do about it. But what I can do is make sure we’re all on the same page from now on. That’s why we’re all meeting now. So?”

Rob looked around to his bandmates. For all his forward thoughts on what they should do, the idea of another interview petrified him. He opted to simply sit and wait—and hope somebody else spoke for him.

Rob’s reaction, or nonreaction, was a pleasant surprise. Her head now laid on his chest, and as he told her to just relax with him, she felt the vibrations of each syllable on her cheek. Was this the end of their problems? No, of course not. Even as someone who refused to succumb to reality as often as possible, Jane couldn’t deny that they had a lot to deal with before things would settle down again.

But, for right now, she would lay completely still in his arms. The peacefulness alone made her eyes well up, and they rolled with gravity across the bridge of her nose and down into his bare skin. Jane was absorbing all that she could before shit hit the fan.



Jane fought waves of nausea as she sat in a ball in one of the chairs in the room. Harold and the boys were going back and forth about what their next step would be. It was hard to stay focused, but she tried, rubbing her eyes every time they began to lose focus and blur.

Harold’s voice cut through the fog in his familiar stern tone: ”But what I can do is make sure we’re all on the same page from now on. That’s why we’re all meeting now. So?”

Jane straightened her posture and cleared her throat. “I think we should do it.” It was the first sentence she had spoken since they’d arrived. “An interview or something.” This earned her all the eyes in the room, but Harold was the only one to reply.

“Are you sure, Jane?” he asked, his stare one more of paternal concern rather than managerial. “I can’t control what they say about you guys after you do.”

“Yeah,” her gravelly voice replied. “But I’m only gonna do it if we come clean about everything.” Jane looked over at Rob, then down at the floor. “I know we, uh, we all try to hold on to whatever privacy we have left, but I’m pretty sure that’s gone now. We just gotta explain what those pictures were about, then try to move on.”

Harold sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Okay, then. I’ll book an interview for either tomorrow or the next. Lay low until then. No more media stories. And Jane?”

Her head snapped up to the graying man. “Yeah?”

“Try to text Andy and see where they’re at with the tour. You may be able to get further than I can.”

Jane felt her cheeks flush, and she nodded quickly. “O-Okay, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. Your set’s at eight tonight. Hang out on the bus and relax until then.” Harold clapped his hands together, then quickly exited the room without another word. Jane made note of his expensive looking suit, wondering how many albums were sold to pay for it.

Aaron and Lyla were the first of the crew to leave, who were mumbling lowly between each other. Sam got up and left, probably to catch up with Harold. Austin came up behind Jane and rubbed her shoulders where she sat.

“How you holdin’ up, kid?” he asked softly.

Jane put a hand on top of his and squeezed it. “I’m okay, Aust. Thanks.” Her neck craned so that she can look with him, and she reassured him with his expression that she would be alright.

He patted her shoulder, nodding in agreement, and soon plodded out of the room, leaving only Rob behind with her. She remained silent for about thirty seconds before shifting her body to face him. “Hope you don’t mind the interview idea. I just don’t really see any other way out of this.” She scratched at her head, then leaned it down on her fist. “But, uh, I think we need to work out this,” her finger point at both of them, “first.”

She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing spit to ease her sore throat. “If you still want to be with me, nothing would make me happier, but if you don’t, I get it. I really do.” The words hurt coming out of her mouth, but Jane knew she had to say it. “I don’t know what’s going on through your mind right now. Hell, I don’t know what’s going on through mine. I’m not even sure what point I’m trying to get at,” she laughed faintly, but the smile quickly faded back into a serious demeanor.

What was going to happen?

“Just…” she heard her voice waver. “If you’re gonna end things, just do it now and get it over with.” Her hands quickly moved up over her face as she began to let her tears flow freely. How embarrassing. Now a days, she couldn’t control any of her emotions. She was a ticking time bomb at all hours now, waiting for something to happen. Perhaps Rob was feeling it, too. How could he not?

Rob waited patiently as the rest of the entourage faded from the room—save for Jane, who held back. The earlier moment the two had shared in bed, delaying what was seemingly inevitable for them, had seem to come. Reckoning. At a time where Rob felt like doing nothing but focusing on saving what little public credibility the band members had left.

It was perhaps rather short-sighted of him to try to put off this conversation—for all his growth and change, he still wanted desperately to go off and think on things. To figure out what would be best for them both. But the road bred a certain type of rush to his life—the constant struggle against working in the timeframe given than the timeframe he necessarily wanted to work with.

”If you’re gonna end things, just do it now and get it over with,” the words poured from Jane before she lost composure entirely. It was so painfully fatalistic, but it was honestly the truth that Rob needed to hear from the beginning. The entire preceding tour had been nothing but the ebb and flow of Jane and Rob’s relationship. The collapse of reason and logic to their own emotions. And now, looking at things from his previous mentality—being cold and pragmatic about the future—it seemed so hopelessly futile. Like the entire event had been a massive waste of time, but not necessarily in the way he had expected.

There’s a law in economics called the sunk cost fallacy—something Rob remembered from the haze of high school and history classes. The argument that continuing in a bad investment simply because of the time so far invested is less painful than ending the investment entirely.

Economics and relationships were a world away from each other, but Rob couldn’t help but think on that level of logic—he had been trying to do so ever since his last outburst caused him to need stitches. He wondered if all the nights spent together with Jane would have been worth it if they just agreed to part ways, here and now. Would the schism between Vicarious and them have been worth it in the wake of what they had done together? The loss of Zoe, and Jane’s apparent loss of Andy—all of it? And what about the nights in the mideast Rob had spent in the woods, talking through it all with friends he then-trusted? Was any of that relevant? Would this entire tour be relevant if the group collapsed in the wake of all of these damn press releases?

There was so much to deal with—so many fracture pieces of the whole of the band’s image and sound that needed to be dealt with. And here, in the middle, were two young adults far out of their comfort zone. Turning to each other for solace before immediately regressing into their old ways. Even Rob couldn’t excuse himself of that. Here he was, standing before somebody he truly loved, thinking about the logical outcomes of their proposed separation. Something he had done so many years ago as a defense mechanism against the very issues that had pushed Jane and Rob to this moment, here and now, in a waiting room in Naples. Because for whatever fucked-up reason, it felt better to put a cover of pragmatism over the fact that Rob felt worse in this moment that he had ever felt before. Because here he was with the decision given to him by Jane to make.

“The interview will be fine,” Rob said, scratching at his nape. He knew it wasn’t the first words Jane probably wanted to hear from him following her own confessional, but it was what he had. Business first. And not only business, but the easiest problem to solve. If anything, this would buy him that much more time to think. “I guess we’ll just have to say it all. There won’t be anything left for them to pick at if we just come clean with everything. No matter how shit that’s going to be.”

Rob let out a thick sigh. Now for the main event,” he thought coldly in his mind.

“I love you,” he began. “I just…I just want you to know that. I care about you, and no matter what we decide, don’t you dare think what I told you a few days ago was a lie. Because it wasn’t. I love you.”

Rob sat down from his then-standing position, placing a hand to his face. He averted his eyes from her.

“…but I don’t know if we can keep doing this.”

The words pierced his own heart as he said them. Words he knew to be true to himself but words he never wanted to say aloud.

“We’ve been everywhere on this tour. But it always seems to fall apart each time to put the pieces together again. And who knows? Maybe we just need to come clean in this interview about all of this shit. Maybe that will help. But I’m just…I’m tired of feeling like I’m in a cycle.”

Rob looked back up to her—his eyes welling up with emotion, but every part of him begging himself not to cry. Tears could not help him. Nor would they help her. “A few days ago, we were completely comfortable with each other? Now? I hardly know where you were at the last two days. And the same is true of me. And it just hurts to feel like we’re constantly trying to figure this own while…and I really don’t want to fucking say it but…the others get neglected for it.”

Rob could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The final gasp of his dying emotions he had chosen to suppress in this moment. Because in this moment, he had to approach this logically. Which meant nothing but pain for everyone involved.

“I want to be with you Jane. I’ve wanted it for years and I didn’t even know it. But we owe it to Sam and to Austin…to Aaron and Lyla and Harold and Vicarious and everyone else we’ve put in this position…to be a band again. And maybe that means we need to be honest with each other first, before being intimate again. And until we can be honest…”

Rob stopped himself. He wasn’t willing to say it.

“Let’s fix this. For them. Maybe through that we’ll be honest with each other again.”

Rob looked down to the stitches in his arm. “Because what’s working right now…it just isn’t.”

Rob could almost feel himself break with his last words.

He had laid it all out. Now all he could do was wait.

“I love you. I just…I just want you to know that.”

It was from that moment on that Jane knew where Rob was heading, but instead of stopping it then, she remained in the fetal position she was in during the meeting, wiping her tears subtly as they fell from her eyes. Jane couldn’t not let him share his feelings – the ones she begged for him to tell her – so with the little willpower she had in her body, she left him finish before she reacted.

And man, was that difficult.

Part of her knew it had to have been coming, but the other part was completely taken by surprise. The brain and the heart. With each word he spoke, it was harder and harder for her to sit there and take it. It felt like self-abuse by the time Rob had finished with: ”Because what’s working right now…it just isn’t.”

With that last sentence, Jane felt the last bit of emotion she was trying so hard to desperately push down come bubbling back up. “Fuck,” was all she could get out at first, and that was only a whisper between sniffling and involuntary noises from crying.

Was Rob wrong? Of course not. Their relationship had felt like an impossible obstacle course since it started. They had both done damage to each other with both words and actions. They ruined a tour. They hurt their friends. So many things had gone south in just a few months that it’d be ridiculous to keep things going. But it didn’t make it hurt less.

Jane had finally calmed down enough to speak. “I-I don’t know what to say.” Her eyes were fixed on the floor between them, blurry with tears. Would she be able to say anything right now that wasn’t completely emotionally driven?

”Why did you bother telling me your feelings in the first place?”
”Are you seriously gonna end it after all that we’ve been through?”
”I might be pregnant. Please don’t leave me yet.”

No. The answer was no. She wasn’t going to be an adult about the situation, at least right now. Even Jane would admit she was too immature for that. Instead, she used the long sleeve of her t-shirt to violently rub her eyes, then almost abruptly, she stood up for from the chair.

“Rob. I respect your decision. But… I can’t be here right now… with you. I’m sorry.” Jane picked up her bag from the chair and fanned her face with her hands before looking down at him, finally making eye contact with him. “I love you.”

And with that, she briskly walked out the door and down the hall of the venue, shielding her face from the bright light of the sun that greeted her. What was she going to do? Harold had asked them to keep a low profile in the bus all day, but being trapped with Rob would just be too painful.

“Lyla?” Jane whispered into the phone a few minutes later on the side of the venue. “It’s Jane.”

“Hey, Jane, is everything okay? You –“

“Are you in the bus?” Jane felt bad for interrupting, but everything seemed so urgent at the moment.

“Yeah…” Lyla replied, her tone suspicious. “What’s going on?”

“I, um, do you mind just coming to get brunch with me somewhere? Anywhere. I’ll wear a hoodie and sunglasses. I-I just can’t be in the bus right now.”

“Okay. Where should I meet you?” Lyla’s voice went from weary to maternal in an instant.

“I’ll text you a place we can eat.”



Once Lyla met Jane at a small café, they wasted no time getting down to what had happened between her and Rob. Jane had even gone far back into history, answering Lyla’s question about their friendship, and all the minute details that led up to this moment now. Jane would have to take breaks between sentences to compose herself before continuing, and it made her feel weak. Stupid. Just like the dumb girls she had made fun of in the past for being so dramatic during a breakup.

But this felt different. She was now alone. Alone half way across the world from her home. Andy wasn’t even here any longer to lessen the blow. She’d have to go through it herself.

“And now… I think I’m pregnant,” Jane whispered and looked around the shop with paranoia.

“Oh my god,” Lyla replied, putting a hand up to her mouth. “Whose is it?”

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance it could be either Rob’s or Andy’s.” Jane shook her head in disappointment with herself. “I haven’t taken the test yet, so I’m not sure.”

“Do you have it here?” Lyla’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, it’s uh, it’s in my bag.”

“Well, damn it, Jane, take it! Here!”

Jane lowered her sunglasses and looked Lyla in the eyes sternly. “Jesus, calm down.” She scanned the café once again. “Fine, but can we finish eating first?”

“Are you gonna keep it?” Lyla asked, ignoring Jane’s request.

“Of course not.” Jane rubbed her face. “One, I can barely take care of myself. Two, Andy isn’t here anymore. And three, Rob just dumped me. What about that says, ‘Hell yeah, let me have a kid right now’?”

“Errr, you’re right.” Lyla put her fingers to her temples. “Well. Okay. Let’s eat.”



Jane sat on the toilet as Lyla turned to face the wall in the corner.

“Oh, come on, don’t be weird,” Jane rolled her eyes as she peed on the stick. “I’m almost done.”

Lyla turned around slowly from the corner and couldn’t help but laugh. “Cameron didn’t tell me this was part of my job description.”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry about that.” Jane pulled the stick up and placed the cap on the top. “Shit,” she whispered and placed in on the bathroom sink. “Can you… Can you tell me when it’s done?”

“Yeah,” Lyla nodded with a faint smile.

Two minutes felt like an eternity, and both girls waiting in a painful silence until the recommended time was up. “Okay, Jane,” she nearly whispered. “I’m going to look at it.”

Jane squeezed her eyes shut and mumbled something in reply from the other side of the one-person bathroom. If there was ever a time where she felt the least mentally prepared to do this, it was now, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. The reason Jane’s life was spiraling out of control was because she put things off instead of dealing with them head on.

Lyla gasped as she picked the test up from the counter, confirming Jane’s fears. “Two lines?” Jane’s groaned.

“Yeah,” Lyla whispered. “Two lines.”

“Fuck,” Jane cursed sharply, covering her hands with her face. “Okay, okay, I just have to get my insurance information from Harold, then I should be able to take care of it.”

“J-Jane,” Lyla stepped closer to her. “You should at least tell Rob and Andy.”

She didn’t look up from her hands. “Why? Wouldn’t it only make things worse?”

“They just deserve to know,” Lyla explain as she rubbed Jane’s shoulders. “It’ll be okay. I won't tell anyone.”

“Thanks for sitting here with me, Lyla.”



Lyla had returned to the bus, but Jane had walked around the city aimlessly for a while. She wasn’t ready to face Rob. All she wanted right now was to be held by him like she had been that morning, or to kiss his lips and neck and try to convince his neck, or –

Jane’s phone vibrated in her purse, and she leaned against a brick wall that lined the sidewalk as she dug through her bag to retrieve it.

“Hey, Harold,” her voice nearly cracked from crying earlier.

“Jesus, what happened, Jane? You sound like shit. I told you to stay in the bus until the show tonight.”

“I’m sorry, I needed some fresh air. Can we cancel the show tonight?” Jane winced as she asked, knowing it wouldn’t go over well.

“Absolutely not. Somehow, even with Vicarious dropping, it’s almost sold out. You’re gonna have to suck it up.” Harold’s voice portrayed his unwillingness to budge, and Jane receded.

“Okay. Can you, uh, send me that insurance information you were going to?”

“Are you sick?” Harold asked.

Jane paused for a moment. “Something like that. Please, just send me a picture of my cards or something.”

“Okay. You’ll have time to go to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Harold.” Jane hung up the call and dropped the phone bag into her purse and sighed. She was already exhausted from the day, and it was only an hour past noon. She knew she needed to lay down and rest before the show tonight, but what if Rob was in the bus? What would she do? After a yawn consumed her momentarily, she knew she didn’t have a choice, and she decided to call a cab to head back to the bus.



Jane reluctantly entered the bus and peered down the aisle before stepping on. No Rob in sight – maybe he was in the bathroom or something – but she took it as an opportunity to dash to her bed, throw up her bag, and quickly climb up into the bunk, closing the curtain behind her. She undressed and stuffed her clothes in to the corner, then curled up in the blanket in a fetal position underneath it.

And as she laid by herself in the cold sheets, she felt painfully alone. The sensation made tears come right back to her eyes, and her body began to shake as she silently cried. Her head throbbed from being sober this long, and her finger trembled from stress as she tried to remove the strands of hair that stuck to her face. She was a wreck. She was truly a heartbroken wreck. Imagining how the show would go tonight only made her feel worse.

She thought of all the memories that had accumulated over the past seven years. All of the laughs, the tears, the good times and bad. All the fun that they had shared. All the times she had laid in his arms. Every time she had been angry at him.

All she wanted was Rob, and now, she couldn’t have him.

Jane soon fell into a deep, deep sleep, one that not even the commotion from everyone being in the van could shake her from. At one point, she heard Austin’s voice ask if she was okay, but she only groaned in response. She didn’t want to talk to anyone.

Wanted Criminals by The Evens played quietly in Rob’s headphones as he stared out into Venice. The air here was calm, and the rivers that flowed through the city provided a great, relaxing ambience whenever Rob decided to take his headphones off.

He had walked out this way about a mile from the venue—against both the suggestion of Harold to stay low until the interviews happened as well as his better nature.

So much had happened emotionally in the past weeks. So many things had happened that had given him so much grief that all he wanted now was to be outside of his head. So far, the easiest way to do this was simply walk around and fill his ears with any sort of noise. Anything to drown out the racket inside his own head.

Here, he soon realized, he needed a distraction. Not from Jane, but from the whole band entirely. Anything to keep him from letting the part of his mind take over that was probably right.

The part that thought he had just made the biggest fucking mistake of his life.

Without so much as a second thought, he pulled out his phone and sent out a tweet to the world:

Any @InBloom_Band fans hanging out around Venice before the show? PM me.

It was inconspicuous enough, and while he was certain Harold would see it, he could see no harm in it. He could easily play it off as a merch giveaway, when in reality, he just wanted to see what sort of responses would come up.

In five minutes, he sorted through about ten separate offers. A few from men, another couple from women, most suggesting far more than Rob was willing to put up with.

One user seemed friendly enough above the rest, however. The profile picture seemed to show a happy Italian couple, including the message: @Rob_InBloom We’re pre-gaming with a couple of close friends. It would mean the WORLD to us if you stopped by.

Rob looked up as the song ended abruptly, leaving him with the simple Italian air, and the creeping feeling of his own thoughts.

No. He couldn’t turn back from what just happened. Not now.

He typed out: @pseudowax Address?

—

A few minutes of logistics later, Rob found himself in a clean apartment in downtown, sitting across from two very nervous fans. He smiled and thanked them again for the opportunity, making sure to get the obvious photos and signings done so that the group could talk.

As the rest of the group filed into the room, Rob soon began putting names to faces. Smiling and feeling good, being surrounded by so many people that seemed to be fans. Happy people. Willing to put up a stranger because he helps make good music. If Rob thought about it too much, he might have been uncomfortable.

After an hour or so of relentless answered questions, Rob left after taking down their names and promising them stuff signed by the whole band. They were cheery and happy as he walked out.

By the time he stepped back outside into the open air, evening was beginning to fill the air, and Rob knew he needed to get back towards the bus.

He called a cab, arrived quickly back to the Venue (which had nearly been in walking distance), and stepped inside.

He didn’t so much as bother to look around. The quiet inside the bus was more than enough recognition to him that there wouldn’t be much arguing. If he could just manage to leave quickly enough.

Rob pulled out a sharpie and slipped out a copy of the band’s album. He signed it in his usual way (an “RP” hastily written, then circled), and left it on the table with a note: For some fans. Please sign.

He slipped right back outside and made his way back into the venue.

As he opened the door, a knot seemed to form in his throat. A feeling of swelling immediately began to take hold. His chest seemed to cave into itself.

He immediately broke for the restroom, slamming the door behind him.

Tears had already begun streaming down his face, and his body soon began to shake.

He leaned against the wall, trying hard to pull out his phone. He dropped it twice before managing to activate Siri; ignoring the slew of missed calls and texts.

“Call…Aaron,” he muttered. He was surprised he could get that much out. And he could only hope that there was enough time for him to answer before he completely lost control—

“Rob?” Aaron answered. “Where are you? We tried to call you earlier but—“

“Help,” Rob said, in a tone Aaron hadn’t heard in several years.

“Oh fuck,” Aaron responded. “Where?”

Rob didn’t respond.

“Where, Rob?!”

“Venue. Bathroom.”

“I’m coming.”

The phone clicked off, and Rob lowered himself against the tile flooring of the bathroom.

His head seemed to throb to the brink of explosion.

—

Twenty minutes had passed, and Rob was sitting upright again; his hands were wrapped tightly around a water bottle, and Aaron was sitting next to him.

It was the most debilitating panic attack Rob had had since high school. He and Aaron used to have a system in place to deal with such a thing, but years had passed since then. Rob used to have panic attacks weekly then.

Now, it seemed, those were coming back into reality.

“Any idea what it could have been?” Aaron finally asked once it seemed that Rob had had a decent grip on himself.

After a moment, he responded: “I think I broke up with Jane. I didn’t mean to…I think…I didn’t want it to sound like…that…”

“Hey, dude,” Aaron cut him off. “It’s fine. I don’t need all of the details. You’ve been rock solid recently anyways.”

Rob felt anything but rock solid. His moments sitting here on the bathroom seemed to undermine any newfound confidence he had had. Any faith in his own resolve. Here…he felt completely and utterly worthless. 

“You good for the show?”

“We have to play,” Rob muttered almost to himself. “We need to play.”

“If you can’t Rob, it’s ok—“

”I can play, Aaron.”

“…alright then.” Aaron looked down to his watch. “We’ve still got time just take a moment and just breathe, ok? Just breathe…”

—

The blur of the day brought Rob next to find himself exiting the restroom with Aaron close by behind. Out here, Sam and Austin were standing—giving concerned looks, but saying nothing. Rob was thankful, at least, for that.

All of that work he had put into taking the initiative. All of the effort he had taken to resolve things. It all felt so worthless now.

But maybe only to him. Maybe if he could just fake it. Maybe that could work.

Or not. Everything in Rob’s head felt like a fucking blur.

“Hey dude,” Austin said, finally approaching. He handed the now-signed record over to Rob. “We were throwing around the idea of doing the interview today, but after what happened…”

Austin cut himself off. “Nevermind. We’ll just take the days as they come. Harold called and said he told of some of the dates wrong, so tomorrow we have completely off. Naples the day after that.”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Rob said. Both of them talked to each other more like strangers than friends. At this point, Rob felt distance from anyone and everyone.

“Just uh,” Austin continued, feeling the discomfort of the situation, “just let me know if you need anything from me, ok?”

“Yeah, will do, man.” Rob said dryly. As if the words fell limply from his mouth. He turned from Austin and grabbed a beer bottle, downing in it half a minute. He immediately reached for another one.

And then another.

He watched as Sam’s hand intercepted him on the fourth bottle. “Dude,” Sam said, “you still need to play.”

Rob nodded, turning around, and making his way into the green room. He tossed the record down onto one couch and laid down on the other. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out something he had been saving for a long time.

A handful of adderall pills.

He shoved them all into his mouth and swallowed painfully. He could only hope they kicked in before the show.

If he could just make it to the other side of the show…then.

Then he could sleep.

“Jane?” a feminine voice came from the other side of the curtain. “Jane, you go on in thirty.”

Jane took a deep breath, rolled over, and slid the curtain open slowly to see Lyla’s face. “Thanks,” she whispered as she forced a smile, but smiling was the last thing Jane felt like doing. Well, next to performing tonight. The fact that they had worked so hard to get to this point – touring around the world – and now it was a chore to do it was a joke in itself. It was sad, really, that all Jane wanted to do now was to just go back to Long Beach and forget it all ever happened.

That would be too good to be true.

“Hey, Lyla?” Jane called out as her head popped out from the bunk. “Is Rob here?”

“No,” Lyla shook her head. “He’s already inside.”

Jane nodded then dropped down to the cold floor of the bus, quickly sliding jeans up under the large shirt she was wearing. She usually didn’t care much what she looked like, but tonight, that was especially true, so Jane opted to put on one of Rob’s large hoodies on instead of trying to be more presentable. After tying the laces to her boots, she walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer, then plopped down on the couch.

“You’re drinking?” Lyla asked with a concerned tone.

“What’s it matter?” Jane said, not meaning to sound as rude as it did.

Lyla shrugged then exited the bus, leaving Jane alone to gather what energy she could before she had to give it all away to the strangers in the audience. She unlocked her phone, and an unread text from Andy appeared at the top of the screen.

Andy, 8:32 PM: Hey babe. Been thinking about you all day, then I heard this song. It reminds me of you.

Jane debated on whether or not to click the link that he sent. She was already emotional. But, it was a nice sentiment, so her finger tapped the screen, and it redirected to Molly’s Chamber by Kings of Leon

She smiled. Jane knew the lyrics all too well.

”Free, that's all that she could bleed
That's why she'll never stay
White, bare naked in the night
And lookin' for some play
Just another girl that wants to rule the world
Any time or place
And when she gets into your head
You know she's there to stay”

Jane’s thumbs hovered over her phone until she decided what to send him back. Did she want to tell him everything through text message? No. But, her chances of seeing him ever again were growing slimmer and slimmer as the days passed.

Jane, 8:45 PM: Hey. I have to talk to you about something. Can I call you in the morning?

After hitting ‘send,’ she walked back to her bunk and threw the phone up before heading over to the venue. Constantly checking her phone to see if he replied would not do anyone any good, so it was best to just forget about it for now.

Jane walked by the table where Rob had left the merch to sign, and she quickly scribbled a sloppy ‘Jane Molloy’ onto all the items before heading towards the craft table for another drink and to have a cigarette before the show. Austin approached her from behind and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“What’s going on with you, J?” he asked quietly with furrowed brows. “You’ve been off lately.”

Jane squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want to lie to Austin, especially when he had been such ag ood friend to her, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him further away from the group. “Uh, Rob ended things with me after the meeting today.”

Austin’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? Jesus, I’m gonna talk to – “

“No,” Jane whispered sharply. “Don’t say anything. Please. I’ll deal with it later. Has, uh, has he been acting weird?”

“I don’t know, man,” Austin scratched his head. “I haven’t really seen much of him.”

Jane nodded before he kissed her forehead, and she mouthed a ‘thanks’ as he walked away. Her heart had been breaking since earlier than day, and even the kindness Austin showed her was not making her feel any better. She lit her cigarette and stood alone as far away from everyone as she could untilt hey got word that it was time to get on stage. Jane took a deep breath and walked up the stairs to be greeted by the crowd hollering at her. She waved sheepishly and walked up to the mic stand, adjusting its height much lower so that it was a comfortable distance from her mouth.

“How’s everyone doing tonight, huh?” she asked weakly.

The crowd, of course, “woo-ed” in response.

“Alright, let’s get this shit started.”



Jane had powered through nearly the entire set, although much less energetic than normal. She had said something to the crowd about feeling ill as an excuse, to which they all seemed to be satisfied with. The intro to the single began, and Jane took the microphone off the stand and announced: “This is gonna be our last one for the night. Thanks for being awesome.”

Her voice came in, raspy from the five other songs performed, but as she sang, she began to feel tears come to her eyes. No, no, no. Not now. Not now. Her eyes shut to keep them from flooding, but that caused a single tear to roll down her face, and the sleeve of Rob’s hoodie quickly went to wipe it. Her throat began to tighten, but she continued to sing the lines to the best of her ability as more tears began to stream down her cheeks. It was now uncontrollable at this point, but she couldn’t work up the courage to look back at Rob, or even to Austin or Sam. It was embarrassing.

As Sam played a riff during a break in lyrics, Jane spoke on the microphone as she sat down at the front of the stage. “I need your help for this last verse okay, guys?”

The crowd gathered closely to her as Jane held the mic out, and on cue, all of them began to sing the song word for word. It gave Jane the chills to hear people singing her own, personal thoughts, and it was a helpful distraction from the pain she was feeling. But soon enough, the song ended, and Jane thanked them before dashing off the stage and exiting the venue. As soon as she hit the cool air, she began to sob, sinking down to her knees on the wet pavement and covering her face with shaking hands.

It almost felt as if someone had died; the emotions she was feeling was similar to when her mother passed. She was grieving the loss of her best friend and her love of her life. It all seemed so dramatic – and hopefully being pregnant was a large contributor – but Jane couldn’t help but feel completely torn to shreds over everything.

Soon, Lyla and Austin exited the venue to find Jane, and they both lifted her off the ground and quickly escorted her back to the bus and helped her up to her bunk. She didn’t bother undressing, but instead just pulled the blanket over herself after whispering a weak “thank you.”

Austin and Lyla looked to each other, nodded, then went their separate ways on the bus. The only noise Jane could hear was her own sniffling, which she tried to cover up by putting the comforter over her face. She was so mentally and physically exhausted, and all she wanted was to lay on Rob’s chest and fall asleep there peacefully. Now, she couldn’t even do that. Would Jane even be able to continue the tour with him so close to her, but without being able to be with him? Eventually, Jane succumbed to her exhaustion and fell asleep, still tightly wrapped under the blanket, with the hopefully thought that tomorrow couldn’t be any worse.

After the mental and physical exhaustion of the day, adderall and alcohol were the only things that got Rob through the set.

He had a typical habit about him that proved more than reliable on this night—that, if asked to perform, he would perform his heart out, no matter the consequences to his body.

By the single’s song, the weak wound upon his arm tore once again at the stitches, letting blood pour out again. The blisters on his fingers ripped once more, and none of the sedation in him could prevent him from grimacing at the pain. It was as if he was literally falling apart at the seams.

In front of him, Jane seemed to be suffering in a similar manner. He could only see little more than her silhouette and his own hoodie she wore. For some reason he found it odd she had chosen to wear it. If he had been more sober he might have worried about missing some sort of signal—in the state he was in, he could merely register it.

After the final song ended, Rob tossed the bloody sticks into the crowd and moved up to the mic.

“I don’t know if I’d touch those if I were you,” he said, with just a hint of a slur. The couple that caught the sticks seemed to pay it no mind, thrusting them in the air as if it were a grand prize.

Hey; at least someone was having fun on this tour.

Rob moved off to the side of the stage and made for the green room, grabbing the record and moving outside of the venue to meet his hosts in the agreed-upon spot. He found them soon after, and thanked them for coming. Luckily, he had managed not to bleed upon what was probably a prized possession for the hosts.

On he way back into the venue, he caught a glimpse of a sulking shadow many feet away. He turned his head to look.

In the bitter cold, Jane looked down—her face buried within herself, her small body softly shaking.

He felt himself desperately wanted to move over to her. To hold her close and tell her how sorry he was for what he had done. He had never wanted to ask for distance from her—not truly. But after the wake of what had come out into the press, everyone needed some time to get their own heads on straight. But…maybe he didn’t have to be so cold. Maybe he didn’t have to do this.

But there was no turning back. No reclaiming what he had said. No revoking what had already been done.

He entered the venue and mindlessly helped the band pack up. And luckily, the pills kept him focused enough to remain composed, if only for the night.

—

Rob was deliberately the last of the entourage to board the bus—having taken an hour to bandage his new wounds. Each other member seemed to have gone to bed in exhaustion, with no one member seeming to want to deal with or talk with the others. Save for Lyla, who sat quietly on the couch—legs crossed under her, hands spread across a keyboard.

Rob grabbed a beer and sat down on the floor across from her—not wanting to encroach on her space. He leaned against the cabinets behind and sighed.

“How’ve you been?” Rob tossed out into the air. He wasn’t too sure how else to begin. Not after all that lay before.

Lyla put on a weak smile. “Alright. I’ve got a lot of folks back home concerned about me, but I don’t think they quite understand what’s gone on.”

“I don’t think anyone has,” Rob joked. “If anyone has, then….well they better tell me. I’d like to know.”

Lyla had an odd air of calmness about her. Unlike talking to Austin or Aaron, she was little more than a stranger to Rob—someone that’s comfortable enough for him to talk to more as a confessional than as a friend, while still feeling solace in knowing that they understood where you were coming from.

How often did Jane talk to her?

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Lyla said. “I didn’t think we’d have tomorrow off.”

“Me either,” Rob admitted. He looked over to Grant, who had just pulled the bus out of the venue—the deep rumble of the road fading back in underneath them. A feeling he felt empty without. “Where to, Grant?”

Grant spoke without looking back. “I was going to head straight to Naples. Unless you two had another idea.”

Rob looked up to Lyla, who seemed to be ambivalent. “What would you recommend?” Rob finally asked Grant.

Grant thought for a moment, then spoke: “Florence is a beautiful city. Perhaps it’s selfish of me to say, but I have an uncle that lives there. There’s not many concerts in Florence, so I rarely see him through work.”

“You deserve a break as much as any of us, Grant,” Rob said. “I don’t see any harm in spending the day off in Florence.”

Grant nodded, making a left turn. “I appreciate it.”

Rob’s eyes swerved back to Lyla’s. “Have any relatives in Florence?” He asked lightly.

Lyla shook her head. Rob tried to offer another smile, but could only close his eyes and lean back once more. The adderall was starting to wean away.

“Play something nice, would you?” He asked softly. Even through closed eyes, Rob could tell Lyla moved to dim the lights, then pulled up a Youtube video: it was Pyramid Song by Radiohead—an old favorite of his. He stifled a laugh and turned his head. From his vantage point, he could see the world swirling past in angled, blurred hues.

He let his mind float away with the song’s hypnotic, unconventional tones. And soon he was lulled away to sleep.

There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt.
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt.
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt.

—

Morning caught him unconventionally—his back was the first to wake up, seemingly in quiet agony.

His eyes opened to find himself still laying on the floor near the door—his body laying belly-down, his arms and legs blocking the exit of the door from the passengers that had most-likely left.

The low rumble of the bus had faded away. On the couch, no one sat. In the air, all was silent.

Rob couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at his position. The thought of his bandmates finding him like this, essentially having to step over him and hope he was alright—was agonizing enough. Rob didn’t ever want public sympathy. And now, after what had happened between he and Jane, all he wanted was privacy.

He slipped his phone towards his face, and turned on the screen.

One Missed Call From: Zoe

Was it worth calling her back? Why did she call? How was she feeling? Was was Jane feeling, for that matter? The world flooded back into him like air to his lungs.

No. Not today. It was too complicated—too much to think of.

In he end, he decided not to find out if anyone was awake—if it were simply the early morning hours or later in the day. Rob simply pulled himself from the floor, left his cell phone on the table, and walked out of the bus.

—

Florence was nicer that Rob had expected—even after Grant’s friendly words to him. The city here was quiet, and Rob felt no need to find a way to block out the city’s ambience—nor the feeling of being watched. Things were quiet out here.

Rob took the opportunity to slip into a nearby shop and order a coffee—a much-needed pick me up after the night’s vices. He sipped on it absentmindedly until he approached a park.

Rob moved inside and found a nice bench. Here, the leaves of fall were truly into their full swing—the world was moving to the quiet cold of winter, and the last of summer needed to be shaved off. Fallen away.

Rob thought next then of Harold. If he would be worried that Rob had disappeared with no way to contact him. He had probably wanted them to interview at some point today. But at this rate? With he and Jane waiting in the wake of what had just happened? That wouldn’t happen today.

Rob next moved out to a nearby hotel; checking in with the company’s card. After talking with the woman through broken sentences and thick accents, he managed to get a room high above the streets—on the highest floor.

He entered the room soon after—enjoying the clean coziness of it, rather than the sterile cold feeling the last few hotel rooms he had gotten seemed to feel like. Here, the room was decorated with knitted fabrics and green plants. The air seemed scented with a more natural hue. The place felt foreign without so much as feeling too distant. It was perfect.

He moved to the bedroom, stripped off his clothes, and slept.

—

He awoke to the sun beating down upon his face through white curtained windows. His sore body from earlier this morning (or afternoon, he still was not sure) seemed a bit more quelled by the nap he had just taken. He was as close to enjoying this day as he felt he could ever be, given the circumstances. He had been lucky as to not be as plagued with anxiety as he had just hours ago.

He was filled instead with shame and distance. A feeling that he didn’t really want to be with anyone back on the bus. That he just needed this day to himself. To be alone.

And yet, simultaneously, in this loneliness, Rob wanted someone.

No, not someone.

He wanted Jane.

But no.

He couldn’t have her.

Not now.

Not after.

It wasn’t right.

He hesitated for another few moments, before moving to the telephone in the room and dialing a familiar number.

After only two rings, Austin answered: “This better be fucking Rob.”

“I’m alright,” Rob said, cold. “I just needed to get out.”

“Oh my fucking—“ Austin said, seeming to cut himself off. He re-composed. “Look, I get it, we all need some ‘us time.’ But we travel together on the bus for a fucking living. Do you want to go back to working at coffee shops? Do you want your life to be that again?”

“Honestly, Austin,” Rob said, “I don’t really give a shit. Because from right here, right now…it doesn’t really feel like anything will be normal again.”

“Whatever man,” Austin came back cold. “You can go off and have your transient experience but you were face down and shit-faced on the floor this morning. Don’t forget that.”

For a moment, the two were silent. Perhaps Austin regretted being so harsh so suddenly, or maybe Rob was just considering hanging up all together, but either way, Austin cut the silence short.

“Where are you at least?”

“The Convitta Della Calza. Room 208.”

“You mind if anyone visits you while you sulk? You think I should tell Jane?”

Hearing her name out loud stung, in a way. And not because he didn’t want to see her. The opposite was true. But knowing that others knew about what had happened…it wasn’t something he liked to think about.

In fact, he didn’t want to think at all. He wanted Jane over. He wanted to be with her. He wanted to walk around the city, visit odd places, enjoy every moment, fuck in odd places…all of it.

That evening at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame…how long ago it had been. How much he wanted it.

Even knowing the logical thing to do was to stay away. To not contact her romantically anymore. To solve the problem of their media image before going for the clusterfuck that seemed to be their relationship. Just…ever-growing shards of confusion and miscommunication. Beauty and rage.

“I don’t care,” Rob finally said, answering Austin’s question. How long had he been waiting? How long had he been thinking? “No one come. All of you come. Whatever you want to do, man.”

Rob set the phone down soon after and moved for the balcony in the hotel. A pack of cigarettes clid from his jacket pocket, and he filled the clear air with tar and smoke.

As he had always done.

Jane had awoken in a haze from the previous night’s emotions; her eyes were practically glued shut and her head already throbbing. Her hands held her phone over her face as she squinted to read the text she got back from Andy last night.

Andy, 11:43 PM:Of course… is everything okay?

A sigh escaped her before she yanked the curtain open and popped her head out to see Austin passing by her bunk, and once he made eye contact with her, he ran his fingers through her hair. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Jane’s voice croaked out, barely audible. “Just a bad night.”

Austin nodded, his expression showing that he wasn’t convinced. “Looks like Rob didn’t have a good one either.”

It took a moment for Jane to register what he said, and she propped herself up on an elbow. “What do you mean? Where is he?”

He nodded his head to the side towards the front of the bus where, from her position, she could only see feet laying on the floor. “Jesus, Rob,” she whispered before hopping down out of bed and quietly approaching his unconscious self. Jane, momentarily, felt the overwhelming urge to kick him. He had left her in her most vulnerable state, seemingly more worried about their image rather than her feelings. But ultimately, she only rolled her eyes and walked back to her bunk.

“J?” Austin called out, following her. “Why don’t you come to breakfast with us? I think it’d be good if you got some fresh air.”

“Okay,” Jane nodded weakly. “I, uh, I have to make a phone call real quick, then we’ll go.”

Austin smiled. “Sounds good.”



In the cool morning air, after stepping over Rob in the process of exiting the bus, Jane stood by the side of the bus with a cigarette in one hand and her phone in the over. Her thumb had been hovering over the green button to call Andy for what felt like minutes, but she reluctantly pressed it and put the phone in her ear, regretting making the call more and more each time it trilled in her ear.

“Jane?” His voice gave away that he had still been sleeping.

“Hey, did I wake you?”

“That’s okay. You don’t sound good, babe. What’s going on?”

Jane sighed and paused for a second before answering me. “This isn’t why I’m calling, but Rob ended things with me yesterday. I just had a really bad night.”

“Shit,” he whispered, “I’m so sorry I’m not there with you.”

“No, it’s okay. How’s the tour been?” Jane attempted to lighten the mood with her tone, but it was too hoarse.

“Lonely,” he laughed faintly. “But, no drama since we left. A bunch of fans keep asking about you guys though.”

“Yeah, it sucks you guys left. It’s definitely been quiet here, too.” Jane felt herself begin to choke up, so she took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “I have to tell you something, but please please please don’t freak out, okay?”

“Fuck, Jane, that's freaking me out.” He spoke quietly but sternly, probably trying to keep from waking the others in the bus.

“Just promise.”

“Okay, okay. Go ahead.”

“I’m,” another deep breath, “I’m pregnant. I took the test yesterday.”

There was a silence between them that lasted for about five seconds before Andy spoke up again. “Whose is it?”

“Either you or Rob’s. Has to be.” Her eyes began to water, and she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. “I wasn’t gonna tell anyone, but Lyla convinced me.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Andy asked, nearly cutting her off before she finished speaking.

“Yeah… well, no. I’ve been throwing up a lot. Crying a lot. I just want it out of me.”

“So you’re not keeping it?” Andy asked, sounding relieved.

“Of course not. You aren’t around. Rob dumped me. I’m a piece of shit. I’d be an idiot to keep it.”

“Jane,” Andy began, his voice raising in volume a bit, “don’t say shit like that. You’re great. Fuck, I wish I was there. Should I cancel tonight and see you?”

“No, no, it’s okay. I’m okay.” She sniffled. “It’s just all so overwhelming. Lyla and Austin have been great, though.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “Keep me updated, alright? Let me know how you’re doing?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“I miss you. A lot.” His voice grew even quieter when he said it.

“I miss you too, Andy. I’ll text you, yeah?” The tears were now flowing uncontrollably. She felt so alone.

“Sounds good, babe. Bye.”



Everyone at the table talked amongst themselves about a multitude of things: what they would do when they arrived back at the states, various groupies that they remembered so far, the jobs they all worked before embarking on tour. Jane had remained, for the most part, silent, mindlessly stirring the black coffee in front of her with the elongated spoon until Lyla nudged her arm. “You gonna drink that?”

Jane startled, then straighten her posture and rubbed her eyes. “Y-yeah. I need it.” With both small hands, she brought the large mug up to her lips and sipped it slowly, and as she looked up, she could see she had earned everyone’s eyes at the table. “What?”

Austin cleared his throat and leaned in. “We were all just wondering if… well, you’d be able to continue the tour after what happened with Rob?”

After placing the mug back down onto the wooden table, she sighed. “Yes. I’m not gonna let him stop us from finishing this. And I’m sorry about last night, I’m just trying to take this all in and – “

“It’s okay,” Sam spoke up, one to usually avoid getting involved in Jane’s personal ordeals. “We were all kind of wondering if it would happen since you guys got together.” Austin shook his head as Sam said the last sentence, to which Sam only shrugged.

“Wait,” Jane replied, scratching her head. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Austin put a hand up. “I think he means – “

“No,” Jane said sternly, keeping her eyes on Sam. “I want to hear it from Sam.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “I, uh, I mean, come on, Jane. You both are complete opposites. You’re wild and he’s responsible. How did you think this was going to go?”

“Holy shit,” Jane whispered harshly as her fists clenched. Lyla’s hand had moved to her shoulder, both to comfort her and to keep her from launching out of her seat. “Well, Sam, maybe if you knew what was going to happen, you should have fucking told me before he broke my heart!” Her voice had reached a hoarse yell.

“Jane, calm down,” Lyla said in a whisper as she looked around to all the patrons.

“No, fuck this,” Jane mumbled as she moved from the seat and stood up. “I’m going back to the bus.” And without another word, Jane exited the café hastily and called herself a cab.



A heavy slumber was induced by an hour of crying alone in Jane’s bunk. Rob was nowhere to be found by the time she had arrived, which both felt like a good and bad thing. Good, well, because she’d probably fall apart if she saw him awake in an enclosed space. Bad because it left her wondering where the hell he had gone. He had just been passed out on the floor an hour or two ago.

By the time she had awoken, it had seemed like hours had gone by, and the afternoon sun was shooting a beam straight through the front of the bus. “Austin,” she whispered out when she saw his curly hair in the back, who came trotting to her bed.

“What’s up?”

“Rob here?” Jane asked timidly as she moved some hair from her face.

“Uh, no, J, actually…” Austin sighed. “He checked into a hotel. I have the information if you want it.”

Jane snorted. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? Look at me.”

“Honestly, I think you guys need to talk. Not only for your sake, but for all of us.” Austin’s hand waved to the rest of the bus. “We’re heading down a bad path here, J.”

“Ugh, you’re right.” Jane swung her legs over the side of the bed, holding Austin’s hands to help her jump down. “Text me it. I’ll, uh, I’ll go see him.”

Austin smiled. “Thanks, Jane.” He ruffled her hair. “Need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I got it,” Jane did her best to return his smile, but it was definitely pained. If she had already told Andy that she was pregnant, it would only be fair to tell Rob as soon as possible, especially before he heard it from someone else. That would make things exponentially worse, if that was even possible.

Jane had changed her clothes, brushed her teeth, and wrapped her hair up into a knot before moving to the fridge and downing a beer or two. Her nerves were shot, and numbing them with substances was all she knew how to do by now. Even she was starting to find it pathetic now.

A flask was tucked into the breast pocket of her jean jacket, which its gray hood pulled up over her head, and she exited the bus to wait for her cab. The sun had begun to set, decreasing the temperature outside just enough to make her shiver sporadically as a cigarette hung loosely between her lips. With each passing moment, Jane wanted to run back inside and bury herself deep inside the covers on her bed, but she knew she had to go see him. By the time the cab had arrived, Jane had already empty half of the flask contents, and on the ride over to the hotel, the alcohol began to warm her body and calm her worried thoughts.

Jane’s headphones were playing Fruit by ABRA as the cab pulled up in front of the tall building, and after tipping the driver, she reluctantly stumbled out onto the street and looked around. A bar was located to its right, and Jane – being a procrastinator – decided to stop there first since her flask was now bone dry.

It was dark and loud in the establishment, and Jane had to shove her way through the crowd of patrons to get to the bar. “A whiskey double please,” she shouted as she shoved cash to the older man, and without a word, he took the wad of bills and nodded. She kept her head down and her eyes on the floor to avoid welcoming any sort of conversation, and once the bartender handed her the contents, she downed the brown liquid and quickly weaved through the bar and back out on to the street.

She was drunk. Shit. She only planned to get a little tipsy to make herself feel better, but this was bad. If it wasn’t for how cold it was outside, she probably would have stayed until she sobered up, but after a few minutes of her teeth chattering, she entered the hotel and took out her phone to get his room number. “Okay, you’re fine,” she whispered to herself as the elevator took her up, up, up to his floor, almost hoping that it would stop in its tracks and trap her in there. No such luck though, as soon enough, the bell rang and the doors rolled open. “Fuck.”

Jane squinted her eyes to read the door numbers as she crept down the carpeted hallway, and after a few wrong turns, she was staring at Rob’s door with tears in her eyes. 208.

No matter how much her mind tried to talk her into knocking, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. What if she was forcing herself into Rob’s room just to get rejected again? For him to tell her that he was still certain in his decision not to be with her anymore? Jane was much too inebriated to handle that right now, especially in her newly emotional state. Plus, what if he didn't even want to see her? What if coming here and attempting to talk to him was the exact opposite of what he needed?

Instead, Jane dropped down to her knees as she began to silently cry, then eventually curled up into a fetal position against the wall next to his door. She’d have to sleep it off here, just for a little, until she sobered up a bit. Yeah, that would be much better. Then, she’d go in and talk to him. Just a few minutes and…

A drunken sleep took over her, and Jane laid unconscious on the patterned carpet beneath her.

Rob peeled his face from the glass table that lay on the balcony. Out here, the sun had long since fallen.

He shook his head and gathered his bearings. What time was it?

Down below, the bright shining lights of the cars and street lamps below all blurred together into brilliant, bleary flares. Rob felt as if he was in some sort of strange trance, that he had woken up now, as the night was simply beginning for so many other people.

Rob zipped up his hoodie and pulled himself from the chair. Within moments he was in the bedroom of the apartment building—his body limply tossing itself onto the mattress.

He felt terrible.

He wasn’t sure what had brought on this new case of depression. Thinking back on all of the experiences that he had been through this past tour, perhaps it could have been a whole slew of things. So many things to pick and choose from. Maybe it was all of it. Or maybe even none.

Rob stared slowly off to the walls of his room. Here, the fervent mixture of moonlight and street light alike illuminated his room into a warm tone. He could here the ambience of the people below him on the street—the movements of the oblivious and the happy. He wondered if they were going to be interested in going to their concert. Or maybe they had cancelled their tickets once they had heard that Vicarious was not going to show.

He was not the leader In Bloom thought he could be.

Or so he thought. Maybe it was too pretentious of him to even assume he had ever led them in the first place.

Here was Rob, or so he imagined them saying. The straight arrow. The responsible one. And in times he had felt that way. It was so easy a switch for him to turn to become someone he wasn’t truly. And while this recent strain of ability and confidence had been convincing to them or so it seemed, the only person who truly knew the truth, was none other than himself.

And he was miserable.

Half a world away from the town he knew and was growing each day to miss. Stretched out on a tour that seemed more and more like a prison each day. Beating down the things he once loved until he loathed the stage and the drums before him. At what point was the magic taken away from him? At what point did he stop wanting to do this? Had it become a slow fade or did it all happen at once. And could he ever find that again?

Rob’s eyes closed tightly and he took in a deep breath. It slowly released.

At some point this moment would need to end. At some point he would need to rise from this bed and return to the life he had already set out ahead for himself. There was no escaping the responsibility of the world beyond these walls. Beyond this solitary prison he had set himself into for the night.

And now as he lay, he lay alone. Here separated from the one person who cared deeply about him. The one person he pushed away.

What the fuck had he been thinking?

—

A low thud reverberated from the front of the apartment over to the open room Rob lay in. The sound jolted him slightly from his pseudo-fugue state. His arms pulled his body from the bed, and his legs strained to work under the weight they had not expected to hold.

He did not bother to look through the peephole. Whatever lay beyond this door had come to him. It was best if he tried to face that fact. If he tried to take any responsibility and live up to those great expectations. He tried on a weak smile as he opened the door.

And outside was Jane.

Her body was nestled against itself—uncomfortable yet at ease on the floor below them. Her facial expression was loose and weak—even in this state Rob could see the strong effects of alcohol on her. Even the way her saw her gently breathing. In and out. In and out.

Without instruction his body moved to her. His arms slipped around her back and her legs and picked her up. He carried her closely to him and set her down upon his bed.

And here she continued to sleep. Loose blonde tendrils streaked across her clear face. Her eyes fluttered beneath their lids in dreamlike sleep. From her face down across her body she looked so tortured and beautiful.

And God, was she beautiful.

Rob felt so desperate to awaken her in this moment. How was she feeling? What was she thinking? What does she want?

It was like the past indiscretion on his part had never happened. He wanted her now. He finally could truly see it. He wanted her so terribly, so passionately, but why?

After all this time and all across this tour, why?

He did not know. He could not think. The call to sleep came quickly after he had moved her into this bed. And while the decisions he had made forced him not to hold her close, it took all of his energy that night to crawl into bed next to her, and feel her warmth from a distance.

She was what he had given up. Only she could allow him back.

Because, at least in this moment, he felt the strongest duality he had ever felt. So in awe at what he had had, and so ashamed of what he had given up.

Whatever happened when next they woke, he would have to tell her. He would have to apologize for what he had done. Up here in this small apartment—this little hideaway from the rest of it all—he would have to find a way to fix all of this. And become what the others had expected.

Maybe that’s what Jane did to him.

She made him want to be better.

And as the night faded later and Rob curled up into himself, he watched Jane’s body slowly breathe just inches away from him. And as he gently traced the tips of his fingers across her back, he wanted so desperately to have her back in his arms.

But only she could decide that.

Light began flooding through Jane’s flickering eyes, and she groaned as she was hit with a nearly immediate hangover. She stretched – wait, where was she? Her body involuntarily shot up in panic, then her eyes settled onto the sleeping person next to her. Rob.

“Shit.”

How did she get inside the room? Inside the building? Had she talked to him at all the night before? Her fingers vigorously ran through her hair as she attempted to decide her next move, her heart thumping in her chest so loudly that the buzzing of the AC unit was barely audible.

A shower. A shower would help her calm down.

In a stealthy fashion, Jane lowered her legs over the bed and onto the floor, then tip-toed towards the bathroom, gently shutting the door behind her. Just get in the shower and chill the fuck out. You’ll be fine. It’s fine.

Unbearably hot water pounded her back as she stared at the white tiled wall in front of her in a fear-stricken daze. She was here now, and undoubtedly, Rob would want to know why. Of course, Jane could lie and make up an excuse, but what was the point anymore? It was over between them, and her love for him couldn’t change that. Her being possibly pregnant with his child wasn’t going to change anything, so she might as well be honest.

She should have never started seeing Andy, whatever the agreement between her and Rob was. Perhaps if she didn’t make things more complicated than they needed to be, he’d still want to be with her. But Jane was complicated. Her desperation for Rob’s affection mixed with a need for freedom was hard for even herself to get a firm grasp on. He couldn’t be blamed for not wanting a part in it any longer, but it still hurt just as badly nonetheless.

Minutes passed, and the water began to run cold, so Jane was forced out of the shower and back into reality. The mirror was fogged, but just as she reached out to wipe it, she stopped herself and smiled. It reminded her of the first hotel experiences with Rob when they left for their American leg of the tour. It seemed complicated back then, but it paled in comparison to where they were at now. The memories made her both depressed and hopeful, and a finger reached out to draw a smiley face on the mirror, just like she had before.

Jane eventually landed in the chair across from the bed, watching Rob as he slept, who seemed blissfully unaware of what was to come. It almost felt like a crime to interrupt it, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. All of her pride invested in the situation would have to be put aside now.

“Rob,” the first word of the morning croaked out. “Rob, wake up.”

Once he began to stir, Jane straightened her posture and adjusted the towel that wrapped around her.

“We have to talk.”

A deep breath and a quick rub of her temples later, Jane met his eyes and nodded. “I don’t really remember last night and I, uh, I don’t know if I said anything to you, but…” Her eyes squeezed shut. “I respect your decision to end things with me. As badly as I want you… and love you… I know you’re probably right, and I’ll just have to accept it.”

Okay, Jane. Move on.

Another deep breath. “Anyway, the reason I showed up here last night was to – “ Her voice began to waver, and her eyes welled up. “Damn it.”

She had to pause and focus on something else, so her eyes shot over to the window that was illuminated by the sun through the white curtains.

“I’m pregnant.” Her hands gripped the arms of the chair as if bracing for impact. “I don’t know if it’s yours or Andy’s. I’m, uh, I’m obviously not keeping it. After doing some research, it’s best I get an abortion back in the states than try to get one out here.”

Jane rubbed the tears from her eyes and gathered the courage to look at his. “I wasn’t gonna tell you at first. There was so much going on, and you were already so overwhelmed with me, you know? But, I don’t know. I talked to Lyla and did some thinking, and you deserve to know. You deserve a lot more than I’ve given you, honestly, but I wanted to be honest.”

Emotions were growing uncontrollable, so Jane’s hands went over her face to hide the tears that were now falling much more frequently. “I’m sorry,” she cried, “I’m so sorry for everything. I don’t know how I’m gonna make it through the rest of this tour without my best friend.”
It was all so pathetic in Jane’s eyes, but while she was telling the truth, she figuring telling all of it would maybe make things better.

“I love you so much, Rob. It’s almost pitiful. If I could take back all of the dumb shit I’ve done, I would instantly. But I can’t. A-And if you can’t be with me right now, that’s fine, whatever. But, I just need to know that you love me still. That’s all I want.”

She finally removed her hands from her face and slowly looked up to him. It felt as though she had just thrown up. Well, mentally, she did in a way. Her hands still trembled with anticipation of what Rob would have to say everything she had told him. Would he reject her again? Would he be angry? Hurt?

“I’m sorry,” was all she could whisper once more. It was her turn to deal with the consequences of her actions, whatever they may be.

Rob’s eyes could see little more than the blurred abstraction of the morning haze. The bright lights shining down on him from the windows was so much to take in. And in this moment as he tried to come back to reality, he wasn’t sure if it had been hours or days or even weeks since last he had spoken to Jane.

She permeated his mind even still. In this first moment of waking up, even now, she entered into his thoughts. And as his vision corrected to morning night, as he saw her small form across from him in the chair beside the bed, he was unsure if she was more than an abstraction. If any of this was still truly happening.

She spoke with a deep hesitance in her voice. She seemed to croak with the voice she held after long shows, or soon after she had woken up and said her first words to him in the morning. Rob blinked a few times to try and clear the last of the haze from his mind. What was happening to him? How could everything he ever felt and believed about Jane these past few weeks fade so fast? Why was he feeling so desperate for her again?

His thoughts and his logic failed him again, and he felt, for once in his life, simply in the moment with the woman in front of him.

She confessed her pregnancy next. Something Rob couldn’t truly process as it struck him. The concept of a life within Jane in this moment made so little sense. He would feel so cruel bringing new life into their torn little lives. But the emotions he was feeling in this moment couldn’t be described has he had done so many times before. He couldn’t find a way to process Jane as she spoke as he normally had in the past.

In fact, it had felt like they had become anagrams of each other. Jane was here, acting against her common code—trying desperately to show care through her words. And here was Rob opposite her, simply wanting to hold her. To pull her in close in bed and intertwine their bodies. To make her happy.

And as she admitted her love again, Rob could feel little more than regret for all the pain that had been caused between them. All of the struggles they faced after his rooftop confession. The ephemeral moment they shared as a couple soon afterwards. The complications of so many other variables, the press, the European Tour, Vicarious…the sum total of their tour. His epiphany that he had loved her had fallen so subtly by the wayside in such recent times. And he had tried so recently to fix them—oh had he tried—and in this trying, he had done nothing but push them apart. Push Jane away.

“Jane,” he said, speaking for the first time in the new day. There were a lifetime of words he could say in this moment. Eloquent speeches about how sorry he could be. Long digressions about everything that had come before and everything that could be.

But none of it could ever be necessary in this moment.

“Jane,” he said again, with just a shade of more confidence. He climbed out of the bed and approached her.

She had done what he would have. She had spoken to him in his own language. Now it was his turn to speak hers.

He approached carefully and brushed the hair from her eyes. He pulled her in close and gently pressed his lips into hers. He felt overcome in this moment. And for several seconds, not a single thought passed through his mind. Just feeling her in this moment. The touch. The taste. The sound.

He pulled away—conscious of how forward he had been.

“I’m sorry,” he said, shrinking back just a bit. He perched himself close to her, on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know how for a second, but…I lost myself.”

He could think of little else to say, so he reached his hand out and took hers within it. He rubbed gently at them—-her soft skin against his cracked hands.

“I pushed you away,” he admitted to himself. “I don’t have the right to ask for you back. And I’m probably confusing you by seemingly changing my mind so quickly. I think, even when I said we should break I tried to phrase it some other way. A part of me knew I couldn’t just walk away from this. And I don’t want to.”

He stopped for a moment, looking down.

“I thought because I loved you we needed distance. And maybe we’re supposed to. Maybe that would be the smart choice. But honestly, Jane, fuck it. I just want you.”

His eyes lifted back to hers.

“I don’t want what’s smart or what makes sense. I miss just holding you and knowing that no matter what was happening away from us, it was going to be okay.”