HangYourSecrets

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Jane had about attacked him the moment the doors had closed on the elevator. It was a sort of instantaneous bout of energy, felt by both parties. Rob slipped his arms around Jane, holding her up to him, letting her slowly work her way up his neck with her lips, before colliding with his…

Then the door swung upon again, allowing three now-uncomfortable men into the elevator as the two made their exit. Rob stifled a laugh as Jane acknowledged them as “Gentlemen,” before breaking into full laughter once he was sure the doors had closed. The two had broken off for their separate showers. Rob felt the energy of the show drain off of him, tearing itself from his skin and pooling around his feet, before being swallowed by the drainage below. In retrospect, it may have been the fastest shower Rob had ever taken.

He slipped back into the living room in his underwear, pushing the hair from his face and awaiting Jane’s arrival. Once she did, it seemed as soon as he had begun to enjoy himself, Lena had taken the opportunity to call. He waited patiently for Jane to handle the situation, before looking down to his own phone to see if he had missed any messages.

10:50, Sam: I found a studio in town willing to let me and you use the space in return for a quick interview. You down?

11:02, Rob: Sounds great. Meet you downstairs tomorrow at ten?

11:05, Sam: Sure thing.

Rob placed the phone back onto the table, in time to see Jane enter the room—slightly less enthused than before. Once she spoke, it confirmed his idea about the cause for concern: Lena. Yet another reminder for him.

Rob wanted to ask for more information, but the endless teasing of the day had diluted his brain down to a singular track for the night.

“Tomorrow, yes,” he said, referring to her earlier question. “Right now?”

He lifted her head and he had once once before, taking in the sight of her eyes, the depth of her pupils. He moved into a deep, passionate kiss, before gently lifting her off the couch. And after that? He was surprised the two of them made it into the bedroom beforehand.

…

Early the next morning, Rob’s phone buzzed by his ear, and he slipped a hand away from Jane to silence it. Looking at the time, he groaned. He only had fifteen minutes to be ready.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into Jane’s ear, obscured by heir own hair. He kissed it softly. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

He climbed out of the bed, slipping into normal clothes and closing the door to the apartment shut as carefully as he could, hoping not to disturb Jane anymore.

He stood in the elevator patiently, his eyes locked on the spot that Jane and Rob had stood in just hours ago. He wanted to turn around the elevator; go back into that room and just stay with her. For once, the events of the tour felt more inhibiting than freeing.

In the lobby, Rob met up with Sam, who drove the two over to the local studio in a rental car. The freshly cleaned upholstery reeked of what felt like wasted money. Knowing Harold, he had specially given Sam permission to do this. The interview gained was just a bonus for him, most likely. A bonus for getting Rob to be on board for the band’s new sound.

The idea made him shutter.

…

At the studio, Sam and Rob were quickly amused by a tall journalist. His long, wavy hair was tied back into a bun, keeping the hair from interfering with his considerable beard. He took their hands tightly as Rob wondered how big the hipster scene had grown in Cleveland.

“I’ll just be sitting in on some of the sessions you two have,” the journalist said as they walked into the studio. He had introduced himself as Riley, and there was no doubt in Rob’s mind that Harold was behind the rules. Instead of arguing with the journalist, he paid him no mind, sliding behind the provided drum set as Sam tuned his own personal guitar.

As a warm-up, Sam played a few power chords, before noodling his way up and down the frets. Rob absentmindedly kept a bet while he watched Riley sit in the corner, scribbling away on a notepad. Next, Sam played a few of the riffs he had been talking about; simplistic, bombastic riffs, that weren’t necessarily bad, but seemed ill-fitted for the sound Rob had been hoping for. After about fifteen minutes, Sam set the guitar down, and the two bandmates discussed what he had played so far.

“So those were the Harold-approved riffs,” Sam said, low enough that hopefully Riley wouldn’t catch. “But I’ve got a few I think you’ll really like.”

Next, Sam played some more complicated rhythms; melodic notes that seemed to soar, before once again diving back into a tone that seemed more suited for a baritone guitar. The arpeggiated rhythms were enough to keep Rob from laying down a simple 4 beat for Sam to play over, and he improvised a more alternated rhythm. For one moment, the two looked to each other, before really locking into a certain sound, cranking out the same four bars over and over, Rob and Sam each getting louder than ever before. Finally, Rob rolled on a cymbal and closed the piece out.

“Fucking hell,” Sam said breathless, as he turned to give a signal to the man behind the glass. Save that piece.

“That’s a fucking sick line,” Rob said. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “We could get Austin to really lay something down under that.”

Rob looked over to Riley, then to the burred man behind the window, and then to Sam. “Want to do something fun?” He proposed. Sam nodded.

Rob got up from the drum set and held a hand out to Sam, eyes locked on the guitar. Sam obliged, and walked around to the drum set. He picked up the sticks in an awkward fashion.

“Whatever you’re going to do,” Sam said, “I won’t be able to keep up with it.”

“Don’t worry,” Rob shot back, setting a microphone up before looking to the sound tech. Thumbs up. “You will.”

He felt his way around the foreign instrument. His fingers slowly warmed up, locking their ways onto the first notes Rob wanted to play. He moves his head close to the microphone. 

“I’m not a guitarist, but I always wanted to play this one as a kid. So…here goes.”

He looked down, held his guitar pick tightly, and strummed.

Duh-nah-nah. Duh-nah-nah, nuh, Duh-nah-nah. Duh-nah-nah, nuh, Duh-nah-nah. Duh-nah-nah, nuh, Duh-nah-nah. Duh-nah-nah, nuh….

Behind him, he could hear Sam quickly catch onto what he was doing. He mechanically laid down the beat for Rob. Kick, snare, kick, snare. Repeat.

Riley and the sound tech watched as the two bandmates played the opening to Kashmir together, both on the other’s instrument. He turned around, watching Sam smile as he kept the beat, seeing Riley nod his head to the tempo in his peripherals. Walking up to the microphone, Rob put on a voice:

”Oh let the sun beat down upon my face, stars to fill my dream.
I am a traveler of both time and space, to be where I have been.
To sit with elders of the gentle race, this world has seldom seen.
They talk of days for which they sit and wait and all will be revealed.”

After finishing his last note, he let a chord ring out, and listened to Sam attempt to roll on the drums to finish the jam. Once they had turned the instruments off, Riley applauded, before motioning to stand up. It felt good to get some of the stress out of him, even if it meant playing a shitty version of his favorite band’s most famous songs. It was actually the first question Riley opened with for their low-key, five-minute interview:

Riley: So you two finish off an idea session with a cover of Kashmir. What was up with that?

Rob: I guess I just wanted to keep things interesting for us. We’ve had a long tour of the same songs, so if felt good to fuck around on the instruments. Wait…I can say “fuck,” right?

Riley: [laughing] It’s fine. Sam, you want to comment?

Sam: We don’t have a large discography to pull from, so the sets are usually quite similar. Rob’s not normally spontaneous, but we have our fun when we can.

Riley: Right right. I wanted to quickly ask if either of you had seen the recent MusicPlus article on your front-woman, Jane Molloy.

Rob: Yeah, I’ve read it. Jane actually showed it to me.

Sam: I google our names constantly, so I just found it earlier.

Rob: [laughs] It’s partially what I was referring to with stress.

Riley: How so?

Rob: I guess, it’s just aggravating to see that out there. You work so hard as a band, all of us. Trying to make the best songs we can, and the article that comes out about us is on the way Jane acts. I guess it may come with the territory, but it’s no less annoying.

Sam: Jane’s always done what she’d like, as we all do. There’s not need to take it out on her because she’s the singer or a girl or whatever. It’s bullshit. But I guess it sells.

Riley: It has had a lot of traffic on it, by our last check. But I’m glad to see you both in support of Jane.

Rob: We look after our own.

Riley: Some of the riffs you were working on seemed a lot different than other, Sam. Care to explain?

Sam: Well, it’s pre-production. The nature of it is that you spitball a bunch of ideas and see what sticks. I’m not concerned with keeping up in a certain sound or genre, so I write what I like, same as the rest of us.

Riley: Any chance we’ll be hearing new music from you anytime soon?

Rob: It’s way too early to say, but we’re working together. We won’t stop making music because we’re on tour. Why would we?

…

The rest of the impromptu interview went off without a hitch, leaving Sam and Rob to head back to the hotel in silence, each with a CD copy of the work they had put in.

“You think Harold suggested questions to that guy?” Rob said. He felt awkward about asking Sam about his father, but in this situation, he had no other choice.

“Probably,” he agreed. “All he cared about was new tracks and our “sound.” Whatever the fuck that is.”

Rob laughed, glad to have spent some of the morning with another bandmate. As far as he was aware, things were pretty alright with Sam. Only time would tell if Sam would remain on his side when it came to the sound of the band, or switch over to their “new” sound.

He shuttered at the thought.

Arriving back at the hotel, Sam and Rob parted ways. Rob entered the elevator, slipped into the room, and immediately brewed another pot of coffee.

He had spend his daily time promoting and talking to the others. For now, all he wanted to do was be with Jane.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Rob’s eyes quickly scanned the page Jane had placed in front of him. It seemed like the usual piece—at first. But as he scrolled down, he saw more and more damning information; things he didn’t want others to know about, and certainly things Jane wouldn’t want out there. As she mentioned Harold, he quickly had pieced it all together in his head.

He felt a quick moment of protective anger. He wanted to pick up his phone, right this minute, and call Harold out of his scummy press shit. It wasn’t fair to Jane, certainly not without her permission and not without at least running it by the band so they knew it was coming. He thought about his earlier conversation with Trent, knowing now exactly what bad press he had been referring to.

“Such a prick,” he muttered to himself, sliding the phone back to Jane. He wanted to say he was sorry the information had gotten out, but he didn’t want to give the impression he didn’t approve of her actions. Jane was adamant about her own rights to her own sexuality—which was absolutely right, no question about it. But now…with them seemingly quasi-exclusive with each other? It was tough for him to admit, but he certainly didn’t like hearing about Jane’s past exploits. It put him in an odd position between respecting Jane and his own selfish, protective desires.

He smoked a joint with her, before watching her slip it out of his fingers for another hit.

”Thanks for, uh, never judging me like these assholes,” She said, making Rob feel far worst for his previous line of thought.

He tried to clear it out of his head as he got into the car, assuming his previous position, sliding a hand across Jane’s legs and closing his eyes, letting the Pond song swirl around him. It was like an audible drug. Something to embrace, to let take away from you, to give you something in return.

He thought about the night some time ago where he had dropped acid. It felt like so long ago. Like something that hadn’t have really happened. The last event that seemed like a time before his thing with Jane started. Or rather, when he truly thought about it, may have been the moment where it had started.

The entire night had given him such a bad experience, besides self-destructing with Mia to save his own conscious, he had taken an effort to avoid the harder drugs. He had never done it out of some sort of moral code or self-righteous fear of addictions. It may have just been, the older he grew, the less he desired to escape the world. It was a world that Jane and Rob had once shared but since separated in. He shuttered at the thought of being asked questions about that article. About his own opinions on what was contained in it. Something told him that his actual response would be interpreted as anger or tension.

…

They arrived much later at the venue than expected, with Sam and Austin hopping out of the van as soon as it had parked. Next to him, Jane reached over to grab a shirt, sliding the current one off.

His eyes quickly diverted to something else in the car, before immediately turning back, realizing the futility of looking away. He couldn’t help but watch her bare skin; her slender torso working itself into another shirt. He caught a glimpse of the tattoo he had seen this morning before it too was covered in the white fabric.

She seemed to notice, sitting on him and kissing him. He slid his own hands just above her hip bones, caressing each side. The guilt in his own thoughts seemed endless, but the guilt of physicality with Jane was all but fading now. He almost dove in for more as soon as her lips left his.

“See you on stage, he said, before another kiss, and she was gone.

Straightening himself out and getting out of the van, Rob walked over to the back of the trailer to get some spare sticks, where he found Sam tearing open a package of strings.

“Figured I could use a restring before the set,” he said as he heard Rob approach. “I don’t get good luck kisses before a set.”

“Were you listening?”

“I mean,” Sam said, turning around, “I really don’t give a shit, but you didn’t exactly wait very long.”

Rob lowered his head, scratching at his neck. “We’ll work on that.”

Sam laughed, taking a knee and stringing his guitar. “I’m giving you shit, man. Don’t worry so much.”

Rob smiled. Now was good enough time as any. “Hey, I heard from Harold about some riffs you had—“

“After the show,” Sam cut off. “I’ll show you something good. Something you’d like more than him.”

Rob smiled, and slipped out of the trailer. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. The thought made him feel better, especially throughout the setlist. For once, he played a show on good terms with everyone in the band, or so he felt. For that, he played one of the most energetic shows he had since the beginning of the tour, locking eyes with each member of the band at some point, throwing more sticks into the audience, and generally having a great time.

Jane’s closing speech reminded him of his own thoughts earlier that day, so he figured he’d make up for it. Walking off stage, he found Trent, just getting ready to get on.

“Hey, dude!” He casually approached. The two talked about the set Rob had just played for a moment, before he dropped it on him. “I was hoping, actually, you could help me out with something. It’s hard to find a reliable connection on the road so—“

“Wait wait wait,” Trent said, repeating the word in quick succession. “I meet you today, and you’re already bumming pot off me? …it is pot, right?”

Rob felt caught, and sheepishly nodded.

“You are one forward motherfucker,” Trent joked.

“Trust me,” Rob said, smiling, “I’m not.”

Trent looked to his bandmates and asked how long he had before the set. “Ten minutes,” the guitarist said, his long hair curling down to his chest. Nodding, Trent took Rob off to their own ride—a decent enough sleeper bus, with absolutely reeked of the stuff.

“We’re just stating on our national circuit,” Trent said, reaching under a bunk and pulling out a black instrument box. “But we definitely brought more than we should have. I’d offer you more, but at the rate you guys are going, I’m surprised your manager hasn’t set you up on an international tour.”

Rob passed Trent enough money in exchange for what seemed to be another few week’s worth of pot, based on how quickly Jane went though the stuff. Trent was even nice enough to slip in a duffel bag. “Get it back to me when you can,” he said, “but don’t sweat it.”

Rob’s eyes flashed around on the different parts of this bus; the personalized bunks. The food laying out on the table. The hookah sticking out from a back corner. Jesus, he wanted a bus.

“Two weeks ago,” Rob said, “and we barely could get our friends to show up at a show. Now? apparently we’re looking at getting one of these.”

“They’re not as cool as you’d think,” Trent said, leading them out. “And if you think you’re going to feel like you earned it…you won’t. You never do.”

Rob nodded, thankful to meet at least one guy on this tour that seemed honest enough. They exchanged numbers, before Trent made his way back to the stage just in time to start their own set. That band seemed designed for fame. Great sound, fun energy. Female bassist.

And yet in a few week’s time, they seemed to be more popular. Trent was right. He didn’t feel like he earned it.

On the way to the van, he found Sam.

“You were going to show me those riffs?” he asked. Sam shook his head.

“It’s a bit late, don’t you think?” He loaded up the last of his stuff in the trailer. “Tomorrow.”

Nodding, Rob slipped into the car, taking the duffle bag with him. He turned to Jane as soon as she got into the van.

“Remember that shortage you talked about earlier?” He said was a smirk. He had left the duffle bag slightly open once he had gotten into the van. “I found a connection. Trent from Vicarious. Got his number and everything.”

He tried to clear his head from his expectations to hear Sam’s riffs out. Now, in the darkened van, he slipped a hand onto Jane’s inner thigh, squeezing gently. He could barely wait for the hotel.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Escapism was essentially what the performances had trickled down to, in the end. Rob played every note as strong as he could, nailing every alteration of the beat, every minute ghost note and roll.

He couldn’t help but suppress a smile as he heard the crowd in front of him call out his name. It was actually rather terrifying, he had allowed himself to think. “How you all doin’ today?” He called out to them in his microphone, before swiveling it away from him for the first track to begin. It would only later be used for light harmonies on one of their more popular tracks, during three bars in the bridge. Aside from that one moment in that one song, he had never sang a word for the band. The anonymity of the drums were too valuable to leave behind, for any and all reasons.

Once the show had ended, he made his way over to the craft table, putting down another shot, as well as snaking on the chips left out for them. He watched a bead of sweat drop off his head into a cup of Coke, and picked it up instinctually. Seems like he’d be having that, as well.

He was just turning to see where the others had run off too, when a hand slipped around his bicep, pulling him behind a tapestry.

Jane was there, looking as tired as ever after the show. But her eyes….they seemed much different than he usually saw them. They weren’t the typical, unreadable irises he had stared into so many times before. She showed desire, and acted on it as well, pulling Rob closer to her; their lips connecting.

Rob reciprocated immediately, running his free hand behind her, grazing the top of her back, under her hair, grasping the back of her head lightly, holding her to him. They stood like this even longer, as he felt Jane press on, her tongue lightly grazing against his lips—then, the slight bite of teeth against his lower lip.

What might have been several seconds felt simply like a moment, as Jane pulled away from him.

”I get a little turned on when I’m up there.” she had said.

Well, that seemed to make two of them.

…

On the way back to the van, Rob felt yet another person pull against him. He rotated his body as such, and was faced with the drummer from the earlier band he had seen; the only one he had really envied.

“Hey man!” the drummer said with a smile, offering a hand. Rob took it. “Killer set! We were about to head off, but I wanted to catch what you could do.”

“I appreciate it,” Rob said. “I loved your energy. The way you got the crowd to move…”

The other drummer shook his head slightly. “We just do the same as you man. Where’s your next stop?”

“Cleveland.”

“No shit! Same as us,” he said. He gave a look as if he had realized something. “Shit, my bad. Trent, by the way.”

“Rob. Good to meet you man!” Rob said, sliding to leave.

“See you there! Don’t let the bad press get you down!” Trent said, giving a wave, before sending the same hand against his buzzed hair. As he rounded a corner, Rob could see a flash of raven hair. Some other bandmate, perhaps. What was their name again? Various? No...Vicarious. That was it.

But what he really had focused on what his last sentence. What bad press? Did I miss something? He made a mental note to look into it sometime on the way to Cleveland, and climbed into the van soon after, sitting in what seemed like a new usual spot next to Jane. She hid herself once more against the wall, keeping her whole body up atop the seat. Had something gone wrong with her? She seemed perfectly fine at the show. Was it something he had done? Wait…how the fuck could it be?

Each of the thoughts felt something like the bullshit a boyfriend would have to worry about. It wasn’t his responsibility to be manager of Jane or her feelings. But…he did have to try when they were friends. And they certainly were in the least, friends.

Trying to act more than think, Rob slid a hand across to her, putting a hand on her leg and rubbing it slightly with his thumb. She had given up her AUX privileges moments ago, as Sam sat up and blasted Low by Foo Fighters, which served as a pretty decent soundtrack to look out the window too. Rob nodded his head to the beat, enjoying how focused the song was on it’s simple, down-tuned main riff.

It led him to think of Sam. He hoped his guitarist would at least have come up with something catchy, like this, if he was going to come up with anything simple. Sam’s old style of guitar playing seemed more like a Fall of Troy B-Side. Something interesting and melodic, yet altered enough to satisfy Rob’s more complicated styling. Now it felt more typical than ever. Four chords on the chorus. Opening, simplistic riffs. Chugging on the bridge just to keep things sounding heavier than they really are. If they were about to come up with some new song not even halfway into a tour, it should be something worth making.

The AUX chord had gotten around to Rob after some time. Needing some chiller music, Rob queued up a guilty pleasure: Banquet by Bloc Party. As it played on, Rob imagined his younger self, learning the drums, playing this song. Being so proud to manage the drum fill about two and a half minutes into the track. It was so long ago.

He passed out after another hour, one hand sprawled out next to him and the other on Jane. He was awoken what felt like immediately after by Sam. Outside, the sun was just finished setting, and the band had stopped at yet another mall; this one, an outdoor mall. Glad for the space to walk around, he looked over to Jane.

“Did you want to get some food?” He asked, seeing his other bandmate caught up in some sort of discussion. He was unsure if whether or not she wanted to eat, nevertheless with him on some sort of impromptu date, but he felt compelled to at the very least ask. If he was going to manage every sort of trial this tour would surely throw at him, he needed to at the very least be more open and direct with Jane. His confused, silent nature wasn’t going to get him anywhere with the people he cared about. Thoughts of his parents quickly came and went as he slipped out of the van, giving Jane a moment to fully wake up and decide.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

The drive was short, for the first leg. A morning set was something to be desired for Rob. Something that didn’t involve waiting the whole day for. Typically, his mind would never relax the day of a show; having the need to perform at the back of his mind. Today, he would get it over with.

That was, if there hadn’t been a second set on the horizon, later that day.

He had texted Harold about the scheduling as they had checked out of the hotel, asking him about why the schedule seemed more and more crowded with each passing day. He was faced with a passive response about how theres a need to keep money flowing in and out to “cultivate demographics” or some of the other bullshit terminology Harold liked to use. Although, once Harold had berated Rob with the specific costs of creating and shipping out more records to each tour in advance, as well as the organizational costs and other miscellaneous things the band had to absorb due to their new-found fame, he dropped the issue.

His mind couldn’t focus; he sat quietly as Jane curled up next to him and Austin gained control of the stereo once more. Run Boy Run by Woodkid played over the speakers, shaking the car with the augmented bass response provided by the track. He watched as Austin violently beat the upholstery to the endless beat of the drums. Rob closed his eyes, listening to the beat, feeling the vibrations of the car.

He couldn’t shake his mind from what had happened earlier.

And it wasn’t that he hadn’t enjoyed himself—rather, it was one of the best experiences of his life. In the past, Rob had looked at sex as something to gain from. To use to satisfy his own desires. But this morning didn’t seem so selfish. It was mutual. A shared experience. Stronger than any high or trip he had ever had in recent memory.

She had only helped fuel the fire earlier that day.

”I will be climbing all over you after our set tonight,” she had said. Not a suggestion, not an invitation.

A promise.

Rob couldn’t help but feel a tinge of remorse for focusing on such words, but she had been so forward about her actions and desires. And it shouldn’t have surprised him, but it really had. Perhaps it was the jarring disconnect between his mental state just twenty-four hours ago, and that of his now.

He felt a weight upon his lap, and looked down to see Jane’s legs stretching out slightly from their previous position; her feet now across to his right, her small frame to his left. Her legs rested upon him, and Rob couldn’t help but look back up, seeing if his other band mates had noticed. It was then that he realized this confusion over speed wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Austin poked his head back over the seat at some point during the trip, alluding to what he had known. Rob pushed the conversation Jane had with Austin out of his mind, laying his head back, putting on his headphones, and trying to block out the rest of the trip.

---

They had arrived at Philadelphia right on time, loading the equipment so methodically, it had gone by without so much as a second thought to them. The men and women in black set to help them grew more and more faceless with each show they had played. Once he had finished, he made his way to his usual spot—in the press pit, waiting anonymously as the band before them finished their set.

As he watched this band, their energy seemed to enthrall him. The singer (a male with a strong undercut and tattoos up to his neck) seemed so genuinely happy to be on stage. The guitarist sang backup, belting out each word and syllable as if it was the very first time he had performed. Their drummer slammed his kit so hard, Rob wondered he he could manage without ravaging blisters.

What this band in front of him was not controlled chaos. It was pure energy. They weren’t playing to be far from their problems or escape their better natures—their true selves. They were them on stage, playing the music they loved, being cheered on by those who loved them. Introducing new people to their music.

Maybe Rob had lost that over the tour. Sure, each time he played, he truly played his heart out, but maybe…it really was all an act. An exercise in release of tension. Of stresses from home, or from Jane. From anything really. He looked down to his phone as they continued on, opening his messages.

He hadn’t spoken to his parents since the tour had begun.

Rob’s parents were pragmatic, cold people. They were the inspiration Rob had drawn from when forming his own self-image—copying their ruthless, stringent natures to cope with the loss he had felt from them. Sure, he had his own personal falling out with his father, but it was his mother too he felt so cold from, especially now.

A sudden feeling of imposter syndrome fell over Rob, all at once. Where were these feeling coming from? He asked himself. Why am I so concerned about my parents?

He couldn’t know, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. So few people remained in his life after high school. He had no siblings, no real friends outside of the band, and even fewer true friends within the band. And now, that he had willing entered uncharted territory with his one, true friend…

Rob walked away from the press pit before the set had ended, sliding out through metallic scaffolding and into the band parking lot. Here, busses sat surrounding each other like a miniature town; the larger carrier busses hulking their massive frames above the smaller vans.

Unluckily, his phone rang just as he had sat himself down. He checked the caller ID.

Harold.


“Yeah,” he barked into his phone. He held the device between his shoulder and neck, lighting a cigarette with his free hands

“I know you’re about to go on,” he said, his nasally baritone voice showing a hint of anger. “So I’ll keep it short. Do you have any new tracks?”

“I’m the drummer,” he said. “I don’t write the songs. I just support them.”

“Bullshit. I know you’ve been working on something with that new guitar of yours.”

Rob’s mind flashed to his bandmates. Who had told Harold? Who had known? Austin? …Jane? He tried to pay it no mind. “Anything I work on with that guitar is my own work. Besides, you wouldn’t like it. Too complicated for you.”

“Look,” Harold said. “I’ve tried to play nice on you because of whatever you and Jane have been doing, but I really need you to get with the program on this one. Music isn’t what it used to be. We can’t afford to wait around another three years until your next album. And we can’t afford to keep tracks like Speechless on the setlist.”

Rob openly grimaced. “I didn’t know you were controlling our sound now, Harold.”

“I know what sells. So do me a favor and make something I can sell, ok? Sam’s got a few riffs he wanted to show you. Talk to him”

Suddenly, the line cut off, and Rob lowered the phone, cursing to himself. Sam had new stuff? Normally, the songwriting process was a lot less organized. People would approach with different ideas, and it all came from there. Since when would Sam tell Harold about new stuff? And why not tell me himself?”

A crew member walked outside, signaling Rob to come up the set. He obliged, thanking the crew member before meeting up with the rest of the band to get on stage. Sam shot him a pained smile.

Since when did they stop talking? He figured he had enough to deal with besides the thing with Jane. Now Harold was working band members against him?

He looked to Jane and smiled softly. He didn’t know what she expected of him, and she most likely felt the same way about his expectations. They were going to have to figure this out, one way or another. Instinct and intimacy would work great now, but when push came to shove, he knew Jane liked the sound of the single more than she let on. How were they going to deal with public life? Rumors? New tracks, new problems?

Looking to his left, he saw a crew member standing beside a small table of drinks. He walked over, getting her permission to partake, before downing two shots of whatever spirit had been sitting out. From the taste, he assumed vodka. He’d surely need it if he was going to play as if he enjoyed it.

“Good luck!” Came a voice from behind him. Rob turned to see the drummer for the band he had seen just a few minutes ago. The drummer offered Rob a happy, toothy grin and a wave of the hand. Rob reciprocated, watching him follow his other band members off to their next adventure.

He knew it was dumb to think they had it better, but in this moment…damn. Did he envy them.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

When morning came, Jane had left. It was an expected event, but somewhere in him, he had to admit to himself that it had always stung. This time, however, he felt much more welcome; less like a man trespassing into a world he didn’t belong in, and more like a welcomed guest. How long he’d be welcomed, however, would be very difficult to say.

The next thought he had was the one of his own agency. What had driven him to get into her bed last night? The days he had spent worrying and wandering were so recent, yet so far. And now he was being forward once more? He supposed that her acceptance of him had given him a new found confidence not formally found. Yet in the morning he felt reverted back to his usual self, as if the entity proud and confident had taken him in the night, yet left him in the morning as Jane had done.

There were things he had done (or rather hadn’t) out of respect for Jane’s denial? Now that that was gone? His libido was slowly claiming himself.

Before he could further self-reflect, the door creaked open again. Jane’s body slipped back into the bed, back with him. Animalistic urges soared through Rob like never before; his mind had altered from his emotional attraction to Jane into the realm of the physical.

His body nearly pulsed with her touch upon him.

”I wish I was better at talking things out like you are” her voice came. The soft reverberations of her voice drove him wild, sending soft vibrations into him. She nuzzled against him, and every bone in his body chanted more, more.

“I wish I was better at understanding myself,” he said. He envied her impulses; her honestly in physicality. Now, with her and her permission, he wondered if he ever would be so honest with her.

His arms wrapped around her, and he bent down, placing a kiss upon the top of her hair, longing. Somewhere in his mind, his past self was eating his heart out.

…

Several hours passed, and the bed vibrated softly with the reverberations of Rob’s phone. Lifting it, a text came in: Where are you?

It was from Sam. It may as well been sent from Reality.

And suddenly the worries returned. What about the rest of the tour? The band? Sam and Austin? Surely they would be happier about the tension being released, but band members dating? Were they even dating at all?

He cut off his thought, and gently relinquished Jane from his grasp; letting her stay on the bed, sliding up to a sitting position

“We need to get ready to leave,” he sighed. “I uh…I’m not going to ask you to be something you’re not, so I won’t…”

Rob’s voice trailed. He felt like he was formally asking a girl to date; something he hadn’t done since high school. It was so weird to be so vocal about his intentions. But he pressed on regardless.

“I guess it’s too obvious for Sam and Austin to keep it a secret from them,” he said. Then he panicked It was a secret? What was it a secret? Did Jane want a secret. His own skill set of words; the same Jane had praised him for, were failing him. What came next? What was this new territory? Could it even be defined?

“Fuck it,” he muttered to himself. “I overthink things anyways.” He had promised to be true to himself, and he was lying already.

Rob bent down and gently lifted Jane’s chin, so that their eyes aligned. Closing them, Rob bent in, and softly kissed the lips he had been staring at all this time. Electricity shot between him and her. But before the feeling to escalate…he pulled back softly, standing up and straightening himself.

“Sometimes,” he said, “talking things out aren’t necessary.”

He slipped out of the room, but not before turning back and saying: “I’ll be in the living room,” before closing the door behind him.

Rob quickly moved into his own room first, cleaning up his things, feeling the cold bed that had been so neglected the night before. The future was a complete uncertainty, but was was true was that he had to be direct now. He could no longer hide behind his own fancy words or conflicted thoughts. Other people were involved in his own world, and his own duality must be controlled.

He put on a usual outfit for him, looked in the mirror, and laughed. A tight black V-neck. How original, Rob.

He moved next to place his things in the space by the door, and making a pot of coffee soon after. He sat on the couch where they had sat just hours ago but worlds away.

There were thousands of questions and no answers in sight. It was hardly what he had expected things to be like on a tour. On this trip where he had expected to find himself.

Now he was a kite in a hurricane. Waiting. Thrilled for the future and scared of the possibilities somehow in the same thought.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Words had always failed Jane. He could never fault her for always trying to express herself with her physicality, and he did not fault her for leaving him now. There wasn’t much left to be said. All the stresses of the world had come upon them both, it had seemed. Nothing would ever be so simple. Not anymore.

Upon this cold floor, he thought about how she had been feeling. She had to have developed her feelings for him far after her denial of him…right? It was the only way anything made sense. He had always operated with the sense that Jane wouldn’t consciously hurt him, but…subconsciously? He wasn’t sure. Jane was an enigma to even herself, or so it seemed.

But what did it matter? Her words echoed in his head.

”I don’t know how I will feel in a week, a month.”

It was the brutal fucking truth he had taught himself to ignore. He could sit and pretend that those words hadn’t bothered him. That he was like her; free, searching…longing for what’s there. But he wasn’t. His world was of logic and her’s of passion. This small entryway into her own world, for him, this seemingly insignificant shred of passion in his angular world, had already destroyed them both. He couldn’t possibly imagine what it would do with them together.

It was all so much to process. The past few months had felt like an insurmountable climb. He was like a dog chasing cars. And now that the car had stopped…what now? He had grown so comfortable in denial, that acceptance was the ultimate trial. To open himself up now was far different than it had been even on the roof top that had shared a few nights ago. That was admitting to her that he had his own weakness for her. Like showing someone a valuable treasure. And now that she had reciprocated, it was more like handing it over. Such a valuable, worthless thing, his affections were. So easily manipulated. Altered. Crushed. With so many things to do and see in the world, it always felt like a pointless waste of time.

But then he remembered the kiss. And that feeling…that moment of happiness and electricity, that moment seemed like a first high. I feeling he'd always chase but never quite reach.

Rob shook his head slightly, trying to clear out this thoughts. Sliding out his phone, he called Austin.

“Hey man,” he had said. “We’re downstairs.”

Right. The party. They had been waiting for them.

“We’re uh—“ he started, feeling his voice breaking. Wait…was he going to cry? Why the fuck would he cry? He shook the thought and tried again. “We’re not going to go.”

“Great,” Austin’s voice came flat upon the line. “Who’s more upset this time?”

“Could you, uh, meet me on the roof?”

“…whatever.”

---

This rooftop was far more windy and cold than the last he had stepped foot on. It had been far easier to access (in fact, it seemed people were allowed up here), but much more difficult to find a warm place. Rob had stood around, smoking two cigarettes before Austin came up.

“A little warning would’ve been nice,” he said to Austin as he approached. His friend could only roll his eyes.

“It’s Jane,” he said. “What were you expecting?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rob countered, playing cool. “Fuck me, right?”

“Jesus Christ,” Austin said. His usual, sarcastic demeanor had suddenly dropped in favor of his seriously, but-really-man tone he would take on to prove the gravity of his words. “You like a girl, she likes you back, and you’re really going to lock into self-loathing mode?”

“I don’t—“ Rob choked out. “I don’t want to be, man. I don’t want any of this shit, but here I am. Hating myself for being so vulnerable.” He thought for a moment. “It’s like going to a movie, but being told the ending before it begins.”

“She told you she didn’t know how long it could even last?” Austin said. Rob nodded.

“It’s not going to hurt any less if I know it ends. If anything, it just hurts a lot fucking more now.”

“Look,” Austin said, grabbing his shoulder for a moment, “here’s the thing. For one, you don’t know how you’ll feel either. This moment, you like her, the next, you may not. There’s a big fucking difference between like and love. You can feel how you want to. But your love—or at least the kind you feel for Jane—that can be a choice. It’s something developed over time. And two…she’s trying, man. She wants so bad to not hurt your feelings. She’s never wanted to. She’s trying to tell you that, and maybe you’re just focusing on the wrong aspects of what’s coming out of her mouth.”

Rob nodded, before turning and taking a smoke. “I guess I get what you mean.”

“I’ve never seen Jane like this,” Austin said, pulling a cigarette from Rob’s carton. “She might think of herself as someone who’ll drop you in a moment, but from my point of view man, she’s probably just as scared as you. Because both of you are feeling ways you haven’t ever felt before. At the very least, just give it a fucking shot.”

Rob smiled for a moment at the way Austin finished his thought.

Austin left soon after, saying he was going to meet back up with Sam for another party. This left Rob alone with his own mind on this cold rooftop.

It was if two pieces of a puzzle had slowly come together. He wasn’t sure how long they had been there in the first place, but now everything seemed so glaringly obvious. He felt a wave of calm hit him for the first time in what seemed like forever.

All of his thoughts and feelings were slowly being acknowledged. And all he had done was panic.

The truth was, he wanted Jane for who she was, and it seemed that she wanted the same thing. He told himself long ago that it was what he wanted, but now that he was faced with it, he had initially panicked.

But why had he done so?

Because…it was scary. New, and different. But it was what he wanted.

Being with Jane was something he could predict. There was no consistency, but would there had been with anyone? He wasn’t sure, but he sure did doubt it.

He knew he had no need to label what he had with Jane. And he knew Jane wasn’t going to force him into anything else. She wouldn’t be the constant entity he had tricked himself into wanting but knew would be wrong. No cheesy romantic dates. No trouble for forgetting to respond to a text. No unnecessary drama about the most trivial of things.

And as Rob made his way back to his room, he felt that initial wave of calm continue to grow. He had let the thought of endless possibilities freeze him in place for far too long. He had to learn how to react to his own terms. Make choice. Be true to his own feelings and desires. He had denied them for so long, it was what had gotten him into the mess in the first place.

Rob made a pact with himself as he crawled into bed. If Jane could force herself to confront her greater inhibitions, if she could meet him on her terms as she had done for him…then he could easily return the favor.

And so he’d start tonight.

In little more than his boxers, Rob made his way from his room to hers, entering for the first time since they had stayed in.

On her bed was a small mountain of blankets. It had even taken a while to find her in the dim lighting, but at least, he saw her head near the trail of blonde stands it had left behind.

She seemed asleep, but very recently. Dried tears stained her face, shining from the city lights peering in from closed curtains. She looked so pained.

He began to have second thoughts about his initial plan to act on his own feelings. What if it’s not what she wants? What if she wanted to be alone? God, this is so fucking creepy of me to do.

He came to a sense of clarity as he thought through the mountain of worries he had. Perhaps that was what Jane had felt when he had acted upon him. So many risks involved…so much self-hatred from the selfishness of the act he was about to take on.

Sensing his own hesitation, he realized that he needed to act. Standing above her in the room, like this, wasn’t helping with his own feelings of creepiness.

Without thinking, he decided to act.

“I can’t remember how often you did this to me,” he whispered so softly he himself could barely hear it. His words were hardly louder than his own thoughts; purposely said so Jane wouldn’t be bothered by them. “But it always made me feel better. So I guess this is revenge. I just hope…it makes you feel better, too.”

He slowly pulled at the comforter, making room beside Jane for himself. “Promise I’m not a creep,” he muttered even softer than he had earlier. He laid down as gently as he could. He was too far in now. He had chosen to react physically. Only time would tell if he would come to regret this later.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around Jane’s body, and closed his own eyes. No thoughts, no words, just…physicality. And for a split-second, he didn’t feel so selfish for having done this. Each time he had held Jane before it had been for his own pleasure in own mind.

How? And he wanted to do was make Jane feel better. Without words, without thoughts of whatever the future would hold for them.

Just the silence, and the contact shared between them.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

On the way home from the venue, Rob had thrown in his earbuds, hoping to have some quiet time to himself before yet another party. Mashing shuffle, Lillian by The Dear Hunter slipped on. He enjoyed the beat and rhythm of the long, looking out the window of their ride to the streaked lights beyond. He hummed the chorus as the singer soared above the instruments:

“Press your lips to mine
Breathe in deep and lie
When the cameras roll
Hide away your soul
Flash your eyes,
Forge a smile,
Entertain, but don’t get stuck in
something you hate.”

He frowned slightly. The pretty tuned seemed almost haunting, feeling too real with what he was feeling.

It turned out, though, that it had really been none other than prophecy. A warning of what was to come as he arrived into the apartment:

“Hey, uh, have a minute?”

Rob stopped in his tracks. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about the weight of the words that came from Jane’s mouth ensured a growing panic within him. Like the next words would be something he wasn’t ready for. He didn’t have time to weigh the growing possibilities, as she continued. It was about her emotions, of all things. They were entities she had never expressed. She had always seemed to be a physical person. She didn’t know how to talk, how to communicate with her words, but she was a master over her own body. Her reactions, her physicality, were all based in her emotion. A nonvocal connection she shared with everybody.

And that’s when it hit Rob. Out of all the years he had known her, every passing brush of skin and cordial hug, they were all nothing compared to the past few days. She cradled to him when she liked, allowing him to hold her even when she never vocalized it. Oh god, how could he have been so blind? It was so obvious right from the very start and he had never understood it. He had never really understood her. From the worthless perspective of hindsight it all seemed so fucking beyond reason. And as his mind raced into infinity, her’s seemed to single-minded; driven by an instinct, a lone desire.

Her eyes kept at his as she approached him, the gentle pattering of her feet as she walked faded into the obscurity of the noises around him—drown out by the events that soon followed. His head tilted downward, until their eyes aligned parallel for such a sort time. His heart throbbed in his chest as every minute detailed he had known of Jane seemed fresh and vital in his mind. Her skin ravaged by the sun, her hair by unkept habits and disillusioned morality. The fullness of her lips, coursing though crimson veins under supple skin. It was almost like a rebirth.

His eyes closed instinctually, as his mind flashed to hues of yellow and orange. The lights bounced and shined in pure brilliance as he left her lips to his. His arms swung about, grasping her and holding her to him. He was beside her now in time, and in this small moment of insignificance, he felt both total oblivion and expansive infinity. It felt equal parts hyperbole, insanity, and naivety, but for once in his life, Rob didn’t really care anymore. All that mattered was now.

And it all ended so suddenly.

She pulled away, leaving the coldness left in that place. All of the miraculous, flowery thoughts he had, his endless internal monologue of hyperbolic feelings…all of it was gone.

It was now him, and her, in a room. Bitter, cold, reality.

”This is what I was afraid of.”

He wasn’t sure if she was right. She probably was.

He took a step back, overwhelmed at the flood of emotions he had experienced. And now he stood, drained and weak, looking at this girl barely over five feet tall that had messed with his emotions for so long. And it all seemed so trivial.

”I get it,” she said at last.

Rob took a step back, and then two, continuing until his back was against the wall. His eyes glazed upwards, ashamed at what they might tell Jane. His back slid, downward, until the seat of his pants hit the floor. From here, he looked up to Jane, her face obscured by his own hairs. He felt so weak. Like everything he ever wanted had just been laid at his feet, and now all he wanted to do was run and hide. It was him that wanted to leave.

And it was probably not the reaction Jane had expected.

“I uh,” Rob started, same as her. His voice cracked as he said it. “I’m gonna need some time to process this, J.”

His mind raced to the lyrics he had heard just minutes ago:

“We could have been smart
With the plot from the start
Mistakes from the spark"

He looked up to Jane.

"We knew it wasn’t love.”

Rob breathed in deep, looked down to the floor and for once...thought of absolutely nothing.

He could only sit and wait.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Rob laughed as Jane further explained the murder mystery playing out on their screens.

“Karma’s a bitch,” he said softly. “She deserves to get murdered if she’s ditching her boyfriend for him.”

As the time passed, he could feel Jane’s body beside him, growing antsy and loose. He knew he had been running a great risk by being with her on this couch like this. He had essentially told her off because of her actions holding him on couches and hotel beds. But now…even if it make him suffer, he wanted that closeness with her. He enjoyed it, even if a little part of him felt slightly stilted, being pushed to the blurred line between the sensual and platonic in this fashion.

Eventually, Jane moved as she inevitably did, embracing the warmth that Rob was willingly, consciously offering. He felt her pillow on his lap, and the weight of her head on top of it. Her body curled and cradled beside him, and she seemed to close her eyes. Rob’s hands moved to her her hair and waist, holding her as she rested.

He felt along her entangled hair, letting his hands move, trying gently to remove the knots without pulling too hard. The rest of her long locks spiraled outwards, covering the top half of her torso and leaping off the blankets onto Rob’s forearms, brushing and ticking slightly as they did so.

He looked down at this lap and saw her head resting, and couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to desperately to peer inside. What was going on inside that head of hers? What was she thinking? How was she feeling?

He thought of a quote he had remembered from Gone Girl, the film he had watched in his angst and anger at the woman who slept on him:

What have we done to each other?

He relaxed, laying his head back, and slept for a bit, content for just a fleeting little moment once more.

He awoke to her leaving him, once again. He watched from the couch as she milled about the room, packing her things, removing her identity from the room. He slowly crawled out of the hole their bodies had created on the couch, slipping into his own room and preparing his own clothes.

He always packed diligently, cleaning the lint off of everything with a roller, before tightly balling up clothes not needing to fold, and tightly rolling outfits that could afford to be. He had such a minimalist style with his outfits, but it had never been out of pretension. Only functionality. Most things in his life involved him making sure that everything that needed to be there stayed, and everything that needed to leave his life, he let them fade away with time.

And then there was Jane. An anomaly. A constant in his life that the farther he grew, the more confused his life became. Yet, she was something he never wanted to loose, no matter how much she confused and conflicted him.

He watcher her small frame float about the room and he wanted to do was take her back to his bed. Make no mistake about Jane and her own perceived selfishness; Rob was just as selfish as she, if not far, far more.

“I’m ready,” Rob said, after finishing his packing and slipping on tonight’s performance outfit. He made it to Ground Control without any further conversation.

To clear his mind, he made his way to their (newly expanded) merch table. He enjoyed having casual conversations with fans. It had seemed like there were two types of them; new fans, driven in by the single and drawn to the eclectic sound they had been developing towards, and fans of their older, more progressive and heavy work.

“Anything in odd meter is fucking awesome,” one of the fans said, referring to an old B-side of theirs Rob had taken pride in writing in 5/4 time.

These were the fans that Rob enjoyed to talk to, and these were the fans he played for. The ones he wanted to please. And once the show started, Rob looked to these fans in the audience, pointing a stick at them for just a moment, before launching into the cacophony of noise they had created together as In Bloom.

The show had gone off without a hitch, and Rob ended up throwing the sticks towards that specific fan from much earlier. He looked up to his merch guy across the room and cast a finger to the specific fan.

“Get that fucker some merch!” he shouted into a mic set up as the rest of the members slipped out. He was enthralled to be heard across the screaming people below him, who applauded as he said the words. This feeling was intoxicating; no wonder Jane relished in it.

He grabbed the rest of the band and moved all of them to the merch table, making sure to sign as much as he can and give that singular fan anything he wanted for free. He was so incredibly thankful for everything. For the tour, for Jane…all of it. Every moment he wanted to absorb, before the world came back to reality for him, or before he grew jaded at the faceless mob that adored him. He stayed a full hour after their set, talking to guys and picking up a few CD’s from them, promising to listen to them.

His days seemed to be emotional waves. A day was spent in ecstasy, and the other in anguish. Yesterday had been one of the worst days of the tour, and the next? Maybe the best.

He tried to push away the thought that that had meant tomorrow might hold colder moments than this, and tried so hard to enjoy the moment. Now would be the envy of his future self.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Back at the hotel, Rob took the time to slip the beanie off and correct the mop that was forming above his head. He had talked to Austin about going out for a meal once he got situated. By the time he was ready to head out, Jane had headed in from her brunch, no doubt preparing to relax the rest of the day.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, unsure of why he was telling her exactly. “See you soon.”

He closed the door, let a deep breath draw itself out of him, and marched over to the elevators, making his way up to Sam and Austin’s room.

In here, the had been significantly less kind to the room. The front door had opened after a great effort on Rob’s part; a damp towel had been shoved under the crack separating the floor from the door. Pot reeked in the air as Sam sucked away at a bong, one of his arms holding the lighter steady.

“Jesus,” Rob said, closing the door quickly behind him. “Play some Bob Marley, why don’t you?”

“Who’s that?” A voice called out from a room to the left. Sliding out was a woman Rob had recognized from the nightclub—the same one in tow with Austin that night. She wore a white shirt (his) over tight, pink panties. Rob found himself looking away instinctually. Just another thing to add to the list of stuff he didn’t normally do.

“Jess, I’m heading out with my friend,” Austin said, clearly a bit embarrassed. Jess walked lightly across the ground on the balls of her feet; her body seeming to float over to Rob, grabbing him lightly on the wrist.

“The drummer,” she coyly croaked. Rob tried to offer a neutral smile as she continued. “Austin’s told me a lot about you.”

Rob was cut off by Austin before he could respond:

“I’ll be back!” he said to her, loudly, as he opened the door again, slipping out with Rob. A final puff of smoke shot out of the room as the door slipped back into it’s frame. 

“What the hell was that?” Rob asked. “I haven’t seen that much pot since—“

“It’s all Jess’ stuff,” Austin explained as they walked. He kept a hand in his pocked as he kept his head down, avoiding Rob’s gaze. “Sam’s basically having it all since Jess stayed longer than I expected.”

“It’s a one-night stand,” Rob said, “unless you’re going for—“

“Got it,” Austin cut off. He gained some semblance of his usual confidence. “I’m not the only one who takes fucking forever to tell someone what I want, alright?”

Rob laughed for a moment, then froze. Wait…he was referring to me, right? Not like, Jane or anything…

He tried to push it out of his mind as Austin called another Uber and took Rob to his favorite fast food joint in the whole world: the infamous Taco Bell.

Rob conceded to it, only because Austin had been good enough not to force the others to eat the shitty bowel-cleansing burritos the entire tour thus far. Plus, he was hoping to get Austin comfortable. He needed something from him. Anything. Just a single iota of information would be fine, but he needed a way to get to the way Jane was feeling, and Austin seemed the likely conduit.

It was stupid of him to do so, really. It was Jane’s feelings he wanted. He had told her he wanted normalcy. And normalcy for them had always been open and honest communication. There was nothing to hide, no ulterior motives in their speech. They could lay together all day and night and think nothing of it, because that was the truth.

And now, it was no longer the truth.

Rob thought of all this as he rode with Austin to the restaurant; his bandmate forcing the driver to play a favorite song of his: Muse's cover of House of the Rising Sun. He could feel the Uber driver's distaste of Austin as he screamed the lyrics to Rob; air-guitaring along with the soaring melodies:

"There is a house in New Orleans
They call the Rising Sun
It's been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I'm one"

Twenty minutes later, Rob was finished the last of his food. He poked around his second burrito, watching the sour cream taint itself brown as it collided with the refried death beans. He feared it would exit looking the same as he entered.

He hit Austin with his first attempt after he had finished some non-sequitur about Argentina, of all things. Something about the women there?

“You know,” Rob said between a bite, “you and Sam seemed to be living together just fine for the past few days. A lot better then me and Jane have.”

“Really?” he said, relaxed. “I guess. Sam’s a cool guy. We don’t have issues as long as he give each other space.”

Jane’s warmth shot through Rob’s mind. He remembered his senses on a pure high as he held her to him, enjoying every feeling, sound and scent—

“It’s just the gender thing for us, I guess,” Rob said. “The shared bathroom doesn’t help.”

Austin sat up for a moment, holding his arms a good bit in front of him, seeming to draw schematics in the air. “If yours is anything like ours…” he started, finishing his invisible piece. “…yeah. Not a lot a room for fucking in that shower. Trust me. Me and Jess tried.”

Yeah, his cover was definitely blown. Rob thought quickly. Perhaps the only way of getting any information out of Austin was to come out honest and clean. About it all.

“Look,” he started. He washed down the aftertaste of burrito in his mouth with water, before continuing. “I confronted Jane about everything, right? All out in the open, and it fucking blew. But I’m glad I did it, and she told me she wasn’t interested in anything else, right?”

He waved a plastic fork in the air as he told his story: “And it was fine, for then. But more and more recently it feels like she’s…I don’t know. Not not interested, I guess.”

“Well,” Austin began, “she told you she wasn’t interested. Case closed, right?”

“That’s what I thought.” Rob sat up a bit in his chair out of discomfort. It was now or never. “I know you don’t like talking about this, I guess that. You play bass and fuck women, and that’s your thing, I get it.”

Austin made a snorting sound at Rob’s attempt at a joke, but Rob pressed on. “Just give me something here. A direction. A feeling. Anything you know.”

Austin smiled. “You too really just need to fucking talk. You more than her. That’s all I’m saying.” He gave Rob a smirk before motioning to throw the remnants of their meal away. Rob followed, and the rest of the time was spent talking about other things.

Rob wondered about the conversation later, as he returned to the room alone. Things felt twisted either way. If he pushed Jane for answers, he could come across as creepy; not being able to take a no for an answer and overthinking each move she made, no doubt showing his slight obsession over her. If he didn’t, he could possibly be missing out on that “something more” that he had felt over the past few days. And any chance at getting that…he surely should take.

Once he opened the door to the room, he saw Jane curled up on the couch, watching some sort of film. He decided it would be best to just let things play up to chance. For now. Until there was anything to ride on. A part of him wanted Jane to come out reciprocate his feelings. But, the other part of him—some small, scarred part—would be a bit angry at her for stringing him so far around. Torturing him while she played out each scenario in her incessant, wandering mind.

He slipped into his room, picking up a soft blanket he had brought for the trip; the same one he’d use when he slept at Jane’s back in high school. He slipped off his shoes, before coming back out to the room and sitting next to her, cuddling in his own blanket himself. He sat somewhat close to her; a distance he’d initially pull on a first date. Far enough for her comfort, close enough to close the gap halfway through a film.

“It’s definitely him,” Rob said dryly, casting a finger to the first guy to walk on the screen. “He’s got that serial-killer vibe.”

In all honestly, that was probably the protagonist. But he figured neither of them gave half a shit about these people’s lives. The only one’s that really mattered in the moment were the two upon the couch, right here, and right now.

In Bloom [HangYourSecrets x megatrash] [18+]

Jane carrying Rob into his bedroom was a complete daze. Moments echoed in his mind, fading in and out like waves. One moment, he felt a wetness come against his face, cleaning it. The next, being led onto his bed. He crashed against it and felt almost as if a weight had lowered from the ceiling, pressing against his torso to the point of collapse. There was no getting up tonight.

A quiet “sorry,” tried to escape his lips, but choked out halfway-through. As a blanket was lifted atop him, he began to slowly fade out. He felt Jane enter the bed, just as everything faded away…

…the next moment was feeling someone squirm in his arms. His eyes softly tried to open past the sand and gunk accumulated on top of them, and see saw Jane, much more aware, trying to leave the bed. Instinctually he tried softly to pull her back into bed. Stay with me, he thought to himself. He knew it was something he couldn’t control. He relaxed again, letting Jane slide out and pick up his arm, placing it closer to him, leaving him nothing to hold on to. As she left the room, Rob let out a sigh, and laid in place for another hour. One of his hands reached over and brushed against the sheets warm with the heat Jane had left behind. Slowly, but surely, the fabric beside him turned cooled, and the blasting air conditioning slowly lulled him into a blurry but strong awakening. He let out a moan as Jane told him to get out of bed.

Soon after she left, Rob slid out of bed and stood in the shower. After a minute or two in the warm water, he took in a deep breath, and flipped the water all the way to the left, pelting him with ice water. He gasped and writhed under it until he felt more than awakened.

It felt good to have resisted Mia’s temptations, but terrible to have done that to Jane. He had hoped she would’ve been long asleep, and he could’ve done his cleaning for himself in the morning. Having somebody take care of himself for him was not only embarrassing, but, if he had to admit it, emasculating as well. Especially because it was Jane. Someone he wanted to desperately to be on good terms with. No…more than good terms. The only thing he wanted right now was to hop back into bed with Jane, to hold her close to him, to have her sleep in his arms.

He sighed at the thoughts he was having, and left the bathroom to change, deciding to slap a beanie on his head as opposed to even trying to deal with the mop atop his head. In his room, he texted Sam:

8:02, Rob: Where are you?

8:05, Sam: Ended up crashing at Mia’s place. Left like twenty minutes ago to get ready.

8:06, Rob: Good.

8:08, Sam: I mean, not that I’m not grateful to be a part of your grand plans last night, but you need to find a way to resist women besides fucking yourself up. I almost left her to check on you.

8:10, Rob: Duly noted.

8:11, Sam: I’m serious. Don’t self-destruct because you got rejected.

Rolling his eyes, Rob closed the phone, and finished getting ready. Once he was, he walked out to the room and sat down, looking over to Jane.

“Look,” he started, staring down to the floor, “I uh, I don’t know if I slept at all or kept you up last night, but uh…thanks for taking care of me. I remember that much.” He blinked twice. He normally didn’t have lengthy hangovers, but this one was threatening to last much longer. “Thanks for being with me last night.”

He tried hard to hide his reaction to his own words, wishing he had phrased his last sentence any other way. In the end, he just tried to stay quiet, following Jane downstairs, who seemed to be hungover herself, and making their way over to Sam and Austin. Austin seemed rather alright, but Sam seemed especially out of it. When he felt like no one was looking at them, Rob gave Sam a small smile, thanking him in an unspoken language. The only other thing said between the four was on the car ride there. Sam had sat up feeling something underneath him. Reaching down, he pulled a woman’s arm bracelet out of his back pocket; the same one Rob recognized from Mia’s own arm yesterday.

“Sorry Jane,” Sam said, sliding it over to her. “You’ll probably see her sooner than I will.”

Other than that, the mood was rather quiet, until they had arrived. Soon enough, Sam, Austin, and Rob all waited in chairs to the side of the table, while Jane sat across from John, smiling and talking about all things related to the band.

He kind of found it funny how interviewers tended to hit up the same few topics; issues like the scene, their sound, their thoughts. Like the opinions and ideal of those who make music are somehow superior to that of the masses. Like whatever any of the four of them said would be so much more important than whatever others thought. It felt vapid at best, and torturous at worst.

Soon, Jane finished her portion of the interview, and Austin was next. He and John talked about different types of bass guitars (John turned out to be a former bassist himself), while next, Sam talked about his home life, his guitarist inspirations, and more.

By the time Rob got up there, he felt like most people were tuning out. The thoughts and opinions of the drummer seemed to matter least.

John: Finally we’ll finish with In Bloom’s loud and really technical drummer, Rob Pennie! Although I’m told most of these guy’s here call you Rob, but your first name is actually Jack, right?

Rob: I don’t know a soul who calls me Jack.

John: [Laughs] That’s fair enough! Now tell me Rob, In Bloom’s known a lot for it’s volume and energy, but you seem to draw the most acclaim for your technical style and tenacity. Although you’re not known to be a very public person.

Rob: Thank you. I don’t really keep up with critics. And I was thinking about launching an Instagram, but it’d be all road selfies and practice sessions. I don’t think anyone would be interested.

John: I’m sure someone would! But I think it’s interesting that you’ve gotten a few notable recommendations from some high-profile drummers. Arin Ilejay,Arejay Hale, Ben Thatcher…these guys are pretty well known.

Rob: Well, it’s really great to get recognized by my peers. I’m not usually one to get excited about endorsements or anything like that, but I enjoy the music they put out and I’m glad to hear they like ours.

John: You sound less than thrilled.

Rob: I get that a lot. The only time you’ll see me excited about other drummers is if Danny Carey or Dave Grohl talked about me. I’d be off the walls about that.

John: I wanted to talk about that, actually. You seem to blend a lot of the raw rhythms of Nirvana and other grunge acts really will into the intricacies and polyrhythms typically only associated with Tool.

Rob: You’ve done your research.

John: [Laughs] Thanks! I guess what I mean is, your style is really close to the styles of Carey and Grohl, and I found it really funny you mentioned them by name. The new single though: I have to ask, it seems a lot like new territory for you. Simpler, even.

Rob: Well, it’s a new step for all of us really. But we don’t look at our sound like something we have to be conscious of. It’s just a part of what happens in the studio. It just comes out of the work we do. Sometimes I have a lot of control over parts, and other times I need to hold onto the beat. It’s different for every song.

John: That almost sounds like deflecting.

Rob: I think it’s important to realize there are more minds here than just mine. Everyone in this band really loves and respects each other, and songs come out different each time. I mean…yeah, the single is what it is, and that may be why it sells so well. It’s not a rhythmic song; it’s all about the riffs and Jane’s vocals. Then you’ve got tracks like Speechless that wholly depend on me and Austin to hold things together. We’re one unit here, and maybe one sort of style is what people expect from us, but in reality we make what we’d like to make.

John: That’s well put. I almost feel bad for saying what I did. Thanks for being on with us.

Rob: No worries, glad to be here.

John: Well, that’s the end of the hour, so we’ve got to let these guys get back out there and ready for their next set. You’re listening to WRMS, and we’ve been talking to In Bloom. Check them out at Ground Control tonight while you can. The next time you see them may end up being in a stadium.

Rob set his headphones down, rubbing his ears from the combined pressure of the hoodie and the beanie. Next was a couple of photos with staff, a few autographs, and more formal conversations about everything from sound to shows. It was another hour before the guys got out of there.

“So Rob, why do you hate the single so much?” Sam asked, pantomiming a microphone in his hand and imitating John’s voice as they walked outside. Rob chucked.

“Well, I guess it’s all Sam’s fault for forcing it down my throat. But…you want to know a secret?”

Sam nodded.

“He’s kind of a massive pussy.”

The two shared a good laugh, paying no mind to the woman that had walked past who looked at them in horror. Rob felt a bit better after the interview. His headache was wearing off, and he was able to blow off some much-needed steam. But it was short-lived as he caught wind of Jane walking out behind them. He felt so bad for what he had put her though. He wanted to make it up to her in any way he could.

He just didn’t know how.