Love is a Broken Window | Cricky [C]

74 | Return

| Chris' POV |

"Is everything alright?" I muttered in Ricky's ear.

We were at a signing tent before our show. He was being even quieter than usual, and he just had that look he gets when his mind is wondering. Ricky kept tapping his sharpie against the table and staring off at shit. I set my hand on his knee, under the table, only to realize he was bouncing it like a five year old.

"I can hear them all talking." He mumbled. "The ETF fans, the BVB fans, even our fans. It's not just about last night though. It's also about us."

I raised my eyebrow. "Us?"

"Us." He sighed. Another fan came up to the table so he couldn't elaborate.

Us. What exactly does he mean by us? Was it fans talking about our relationship? Like were they freaking out over how adorable we are, like some do on Twitter, or were they complaining that we weren't a good match? Were they upset we were gay? Sure, over the years we had a few assholes that would call Ricky a fag, but it was never much of a problem. Is it a problem now?

I glanced back to the more shady part of the tent. There was a fan going, and Shiloh was stood next to it with Bella in her arms. The fans like to see her. Of course, Devin and Shiloh won't let them touch the baby, just look from a distance. Most the time we don't like touching fans from the fear of getting sick!

I gestured got Shiloh to come over. He leaned over by me and I spoke in a low tone, "Can you please let the interviewer we were meeting know that we're running late because of the signing?"

"Yeah, where can I find him?"

"We were going to meet him at the bus. We're done a lot of interviews with him so we're comfortable with letting him on." I replied.

Shiloh nodded and stood back up, readjusting the baby to be on his hip. He began to walk out the back of the tent, and Devin quickly yelled at a roadie to go with him. We decided that in light of recent events, and even past ones, no one should be caught alone. With that thought on my mind, I looked over at Ricky's soft face.

I set my hand on his leg again. He stopped bouncing it to look at me. I leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't too long that we'd gross anyone out, but long enough that I could relax him. When we parted ways, I looked down the line of fans to see a ton of girls freaking out and gawking. Ricky was blushing more than a bride on her wedding day. He was so adorable, I understood why the girls freaked. Or, fan-girled, for lack of a better word.

Someone approached the table and handed me something to sign. She was about fifteen, with bright blue hair. A brunette friend came up with her, covered in plastic jewelry.

"Can I just say, you two are the cutest thing in the world?" The brunette squealed.

I glanced over at Ricky, then back at them with a smile on my face. "Thanks. He's the only cute one though."

They giggled and squeaked again. I found it endearing, whereas other bands may find this annoying. I loved how much the fans appreciated us.

"You two are my favorite couple in existence!" The freckled, blue-haired one said. "Even more than Andy and Ashley."

"Ashley's mean." The other one muttered.

Andy and Ashley are together? Since when? This just got me thinking... How much of this exactly was planned?

I chuckled. "Well we appreciate it. It was nice meeting you, two."

"Thanks!" They both said as they moved down the table.

I looked over at Ricky. His mind was still off in the clouds, so I pecked his cheek. That somewhat pulled him out of it. Just enough that he looked at me.

"True fans stick by us. Don't let all of the hate get to you." I told him.

Ricky sighed. "I try not to. What can you do, though?"

I reached my hand behind his back and gentle rubbed circles briefly. "I know, Babe. I know."

Ricky fell back into robot mode and continued with the signing. There was something wrong, that he was being this aloof. I kept a close eye on him the rest of the hour we were there. Then it finally hit me, like a ton of fucking bricks.

Someone asked Ricky to sign a picture. As they handed it over, I saw his wrist in the sunlight, reaching up to the fan. He couldn't hide it, even with the bracelets. There was three deep gashes on his wrist. Oh, Angel.

The security finally shut off people. They helped us walk back to the area restricted to only bands, so we were mostly free to walk. I was still worried about people like TJ and Purdy.

"Ricky," I whispered as we walked. My eyes looked down at his wrists. How'd I fucking miss this?! "Have you been talking your pills?"

"I don't need them." He muttered, almost talking to himself more than me. Ricky couldn't look at me when he said it, meaning he knew he was lying.

"Yes, you do. They help keep the chemistry of your brain balanced." I responded. I was being pretty quiet since the others were walking close to us. I grabbed Ricky's wrist, quickly adding, "They help you from doing stupid shit like this."

Ricky yanked back his arm. "Stupid? It's not stupid, Chris. Those pills are stupid."

"They keep you from killing yourself." I spoke assertively. "That isn't stupid to me. I don't want you dead."

"I'm better off." He muttered.

"No, you're not. If you just get back on your meds, you'll start thinking straight."

"I'm thinking just fine, thank you very much!" Ricky scoffed.

"I will force those pills down your throat if I have to! Only because I love you!"

We began to approach the bus, knowing the interviewer was inside. We'd be going straight into the interview.

Ricky looked at me, disappointed. "I know how to paint a smile on if I need to, without meds. Either way, it's still a mask to cover up my unhappiness. Why don't you just focus on being a good boyfriend and supporting me through a difficult time?"

I sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry, Babe."

"It's fine. Let's just get this interview done." He mumbled, stepping on the bus.