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You ended up spending a few hours on top of the bus with Myra, Nick and Clay, until the sky was beginning to lighten and the energy from the concert had worn off, your eyelids finally drooping, heavy with sleep. You left Myra with Nick somewhere around two in the morning to head back to your own bus and crash in your bunk, still in the clothes you had worn to the concert. 

You woke again when the bus started moving, hours later. 

Rolling over groggily, you peeled your eyes open to see Myra sitting in her bunk, brushing out her hair. It was obvious she had just gotten out of the shower - her hair was damp and she had changed into a pair of sweats. It took a moment for her to notice that you were awake, but when she did, she smiled. 

"Morning." She said.

"Mmm." You returned, grabbing for your phone. "What time is it?"

"Eleven, I think." Myra said. "Sleep okay?"

You flopped back onto your bed, going through the notifications you had missed. "Yeah." You said. "I'm going to have to get used to the driving part though. What time did you come back? I didn't hear you come in."

"Probably like an hour ago." Myra said, setting her hairbrush aside. "Accidentally fell asleep on top of the bus last night."

You laughed, sitting up. "Yikes." 

Myra shrugged. "It was kind of nice. A little uncomfy, but there's something about falling asleep under the stars."

You slipped your feet out of bed, getting up and stretching your arms over your head. "I should probably take a shower." You said. 

"Probably." Myra agreed. "You still kind of smell like weed."

You brought the collar of your shirt up to your nose and inhaled - sure enough, just a trace of the smoke from last night. You were sure your hair was a mess too. You pulled a change of clothes from the drawer underneath your bunk - something comfortable for a day of driving. It wouldn't take that long to get to Orlando, but you had a feeling you wouldn't be doing much today anyway.

You made your way to the tiny bathroom tucked at the very back of the bus and closed the door behind you, stripping out of your dirty clothes and starting up the shower, letting the water run warm. You caught a glance of yourself in the mirror - large dark circles had formed under your eyes, and your hair was a tangled mess. 

You looked like shit, but it had been worth it. Last night had been magical. 

You stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run over you, stripping all the grime from the concert and smoke from afterword from you as you began to wash your hair, taking time to work through the knotted sections. The water relaxed you, and you tipped your head back into the spray, letting out a deep sigh.

You could still feel the energy from the roof of the bus in the air. The quiet comradery as Clay, Nick and Myra had passed the joint around. The laughter you had all shared. How Clay had watched you gush about how good of a musician he was with a small smile on his face, both slightly cocky and humble at the same time. The way the moonlight had made his hazel eyes into a deep soulful brown. 

Just thinking about it was poetic. If you'd had a journal, you definitely would have made an entry. 

You ran some soap up and down your legs, washing away any dirt that was there before working through your hair again one last time. Once you were satisfied with your cleanliness, you switched the shower off, stepping out into the bathroom to grab your towel and begin to pat dry. Now that you were out of the shower, you could hear the steady thrum of bass coming from outside the bathroom, stopping and starting every now and again. 

You pulled on the clean clothes you had grabbed from your drawer and tossed the dirty ones in the hamper by the door before draping your towel back on it's bar and stepping out of the bathroom, letting the steam dissipate into the slightly cooler air of the rest of the bus. 

Myra was still on her bed when you walked back into the rest of the bus, her laptop open as she typed something. You flopped back down onto your bunk, stretching out in the sheets.

"Feeling better?" Myra asked, barely looking up from her laptop. 

"Much." You said, happier now that you had showered off. "What are you working on?"

"New song, maybe." Myra said. The bass you had heard in the bathroom started up again, and Myra hummed a little melody to herself, nodding her head in time with the beat. She paused the track to type something again, before picking up where she'd left off before. 

Not wanting to bother her while she worked, you pulled out your phone to scroll through your feed. You tapped through Instagram stories, passing pictures of the sunset, people's pets, and iced coffees - all the usual. You came to a stop on Myra's story though, looking at a picture from last night. 

Her and Nick grinning up at the camera. In the background, Clay, exhaling a smoke ring into the sky, and you, laughing at something he had said seconds before. It was a nice picture, and you made a mental note to ask Myra for a copy later. 

You should have taken some pictures, just to have a memory to hold onto. 

You frowned to yourself, twiddling your phone in your hand. You thought from the shower came back to you - maybe you should start a travel journal for the summer. But you hadn't brought any journals, and you were already on the road...

Your notes app would just have to do. 

Opening a new note, you titled it Dream Tour and began to write, trying to capture the magical feeling from last night with words. 


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