Just Before You Go

Four days had come and gone, bringing with them unrelenting heartache and complete social alienation. Jimmy was avoiding me like a professional; I’d hardly seen him at all, save for the occasional spotting of the back of his head as he hurriedly moved himself away from me. I’d been hunkered down with Haven, daring to leave the bus only when duty called and I was forced to the Avenged merch boot. I’d hardly spent any time with them, either—save for Brian.
Brian had effectively caught himself in the middle of it all, loyal to his friend but sympathetic to my cause. It wasn’t fair to him, so I had made conscious efforts to start the divide.
We’d just wrapped another show and both bands’ crews were busy packing up the gear and equipment. Blair was starting to come down with something, which made her voice indescribably raspy and raw. She’d blown through their sound check and she’d left in a fury, mumbling and muttering to herself in frustration. Tyler had dragged me around like a favorite teddy bear, keen to show me his life and to keep me distracted.
“She’ll be fine,” Tyler assured me when he sensed my concern. “Just let her go. You don’t want the Peterson Wrath, I promise you.”
He’d been right, as always. She’d consulted the other vocalist in the crowd for quick and sure-fire remedies to the ruptured vocal chords. I hadn’t been able to watch the show up close, but I was lucky enough to catch the audio from where the merchandise was all stationed. She sounded different, but it wasn’t such a terrible change.
Tyler had come around to help me pack up the boxes, going on and on about what a rush performing was and just how very lucky he felt. It was something that I couldn’t relate to in that juncture in my life, but I longed to. I yearned to feel accomplished and proud of my accomplishments once more. It seemed like something that would never happen again, in any capacity.
Once everything was adequately stored away, we set off back toward the buses. I was desperate to get some sleep—I’d hardly caught a wink since Jimmy had broken my heart in two. It showed, too; I was looking like a fine form of rough.
“How mad would they be if we stole you?” Tyler asked with a devious grin. “Haven could always use another merch girl.”
Their roadie, Mona, doubled as their merch girl. It was a system that stressed them out, since she wasn’t technically able to do both jobs at once. That meant that Haven often didn’t sell merchandise during, or before, their sets at all. Mona was unavailable until her technician duties were completed. But, they were just starting out and they were doing what they could to make it work.
“Honestly?” I sighed. “They would probably be relieved at this point.”
Tyler glanced at me from the sides of his eyes, eager not to tip the emotional scales.
“No one wants me here,” I continued glumly. “I think it’s about time I threw in the towel on the Jimmy fight.”
“Maybe it is,” Tyler nodded once. “But that doesn’t mean you should leave. No one wants you to go…Not anyone in our camp, anyway.”
“But it’s Avenged’s tour,” I pointed out in an attempt to seal my fate. “And I’m only here because their drummer invited me.”
“So fucking what,” Tyler shrugged. “Jimmy made a choice. A poor one, might I add. If we have to formally thief you and make you part of the Haven family, I’m prepared to do that.”
I shook my head, looking down to my feet, “Please don’t wage wars on my account. It’s not worth the trouble.”
“You’re worth all kinds of trouble,” he smirked at me.
Avenged’s bus was loud. You could hear them hollering from across the lot; Haven’s bus was eerily silent, no visible movement through the windows. The only thing to be seen there was the lone flicker of an ember—at the end of Blair Peterson’s cigarette no doubt.
I loved the evenings after shows. Everything was still and mostly quiet, other than Jimmy and the boys. However, they typically pulled out and away first, while Haven lingered around for a while, soaking in the experience and eating up the calm.
“Hey,” Blair said throatily.
Tyler cringed theatrically, “Jesus, Grandma.”
She laughed, flicking her ash to the ground, “Fuck you, Brody.”
“You know,” he offered with a playful grin, “smoking probably isn’t helping your throat situation.”
“If I don’t smoke, I will murder you all,” she told him seriously.
“Blair!” Matt’s voice cut through the pleasantries, carrying itself from one bus to another. “Come on!”
“Leaving us so soon?” Tyler asked casually.
She shrugged, taking a long puff of her cigarette that illuminated her beautiful face, “I’m being forced to attend a party.”
“Forced,” Tyler scoffed.
“Matt said he’d only give me his voice-saving-secrets if I swung by for a beer and joint later,” she told him, looking at me quickly and then back to her friend. “Who am I to turn down a fair trade?”
“I assume you won’t be back tonight then,” Tyler half-asked, half-declared.
She shook her head, now finally actually looking at me, “You’re okay with just the guys, right?”
I’m not going to lie to you, I was deeply unnerved. I’d kind of hoped that Blair would be on my side, even though I’d insisted that there should be no sides. I’d assumed that the women would stick together, and she’d begin to detach herself from Avenged Sevenfold. That hadn’t happened at all. If anything, she’d started detaching herself from me. It was almost like some Freaky Friday nonsense; I grew closer to Tyler and she grew closer to the men I’d almost called my friends.
However, I was tired of creating drama within the tour group. If I was going to stay for even one more day, I was going to have to work to find peace. Besides, maybe if Jimmy could see that I could be trusting, he’d come back to me…
Not that he’d even talk to me…
“Yeah,” I lied with a smile. “Go, have fun.”
She flicked her cigarette away and wished us a good evening. Tyler climbed aboard but I couldn’t help to stand back and watch as she skipped over to my former life. Jimmy was there, standing tall against everyone else. He took Blair into his long arms immediately, swaying her from side to side in a sloppy display of ‘friendship’. I couldn’t watch any more than that. Friends or not, I still hated it.
As I climbed onto the Haven bus, I was hit with a wall of music. John was strumming at a guitar and Justin was banging on the table. It was loud but it was an interesting, and entertaining, departure from their usual routine. They were far less rowdy and excitable than Avenged, less wholesome too. But they’d taken me in without argument, and for that I was willing to overlook their less than friendly demeanors.
Tyler scoffed at John’s guitar chords, “Flat. So flat.”
“Whatever,” John laughed, shaking his head.
“Come on,” Ty said to me, gesturing to the back.
I followed him passed the bunks and into the back, where we both collapsed onto the couch. I was absolutely exhausted and I could feel it in my spine.
“Movie?” Tyler suggested.
“Something funny,” I agreed. “I can’t handle anymore drama, fictitious or otherwise.”
Even as I breezed through the word fictitious, Jimmy flashed into my mind. I missed running my fingers down the letters permanently carved into his chest.
I hated that he’d ruined a fucking word for me.
Mostly, though, I hated how much I missed him.
Tyler popped in a classic Chris Farley/David Spade disc, one of which I couldn’t stand but wasn’t prepared to go to battle over. As it began to play, Tyler disappeared for snacks and drinks—like he did every night.
Blair had resigned herself from the caretaker role when I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but it felt like now Tyler was the only one really looking out for me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out with a tired sigh.
From: Brian
How’re we holding up?
Oh, and Brian, I guess.
To: Brian
You know. Watching a movie now…hopefully going to fall into a coma shortly.
“Who’re you texting?” Tyler asked curiously as he returned with an armload of assorted types of potato chips.
“Brian,” I shrugged.
From: Brian
Same. But not the same kind of coma you’re looking forward to. Hang in there, buddy.
Brian had told me the night before that Jimmy absolutely refused to talk about me at all. Everyone was under direct orders not to mention my name, or that I was still hanging around on the tour. It was beyond humiliating—but nevertheless, Brian insisted that I stay.
Part of me knew that I was feeding into old habits, letting others dictate my choice. But…the saddest part of me just wanted to see Jimmy, even if just at a glance. I still couldn’t fathom not seeing him for eight months—even if he hated me. It was selfish and greedy but it was all I had left to hang onto.
I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, decidedly finished with Brian’s sentiment. I was hanging on, but it was proving to be a struggle. Wasn’t it supposed to get easier?
“Tyler?” I spoke up as he munched on a handful of salty chips.
He flashed his pretty eyes over to me, daring not to open his mouth, “Hm?”
I smiled a little at the visual, his cheeks full like a chipmunk. Talk about indulgent.
“Will you hate me if I decide to go home?” I asked slowly, feeling guilty just for asking.
He chewed quickly, holding one finger up as he did. Finally, he swallowed it down.
“Why would I hate you?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Seems to be a common trend around here lately…”
“Not with me, it isn’t,” he defended.
I nodded slowly, “Will we still be friends?”
“Of course,” he told me seriously, pulling my shoulders into his chest.
“Good,” I breathed out in relief, relaxing into him.
Why couldn’t Jimmy be so willing to commit to my presence in his life? What had I done so wrong that he couldn’t forgive me…or bear to even cast a glance in my direction? He said he’d love me…but…this absence was not love.
This was wretched. This was aching.
This was my life now.

Notes

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