𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 - 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐬𝐢𝐱

𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥

Carmen: The first week of the tour was a surreal experience. I really don't think I've ever felt freedom to that extent before. But where do we draw the line between freedom and loneliness.

♐︎

The half open window on the bus fluttered Carmen's hair all about, tickling her face and stirring her awake. The ride had been silent aside from the rumble of the bus and the wind whipping through the window. Light rays danced across the bus showing the dust particles that floated about the air. A melodic hum passed from Louise's lips, and the occasional sound of Cindy turning the page of her book tethered Carmen back down to reality.

They were about 30 minutes from their first stop, anxiety filled every inch of Carmen despite the lies she tried to tell herself. Whatever happens on that stage tomorrow was nothing compared to the shit she'd been through in the last five years. Carmen wondered what her mom would think, she hadn't talked to her in months. She wondered what Donnie would think, would he be proud of her, would he go to work smiling and telling everyone that his sister was on the fucking radio.

Then Carmen thought of Dean, of his face before he left that day. How much hatred she had for him growing in the deep valley where her beating heart that had once filled her with life now rested in the palm of his hand. She wondered if he had throught about her at all, if he had thought about calling her and telling her that he would never hurt her again, it was a one time thing and he never wanted to hurt her like that again because he couldn't bare to see his reflection in the mirror. But he probably wasn't thinking about her, he was probably getting his dick sucked by some naive girl who believed whatever pitiful story he had concocted about their relationship.

She felt every inch of her body tense, she felt sick thinking about how he left her there heaving on the kitchen floor - mourning the loss of a future they will never have. She grabbed out her notebook and began to write out her thoughts, hoping something poetic would come out of it.

And something did.

"Cindy, get this shit." Carmen said, sitting up on her knees and leaning over the back of her seat to look at Cindy.

"What?" Cindy asked groggily, closing her book.

"And it's strange how your face doesn't look so innocent/your secret has its consequence and that's on you, babe." Carmen started to tell her the lyrics.

"Is this a fucking song?" Cindy said rubbing her eyes, heavy from the heat.

"Yeah," Carmen answered then continued, "I breakdown every time you call/we're a wreck, you're the wrecking ball/ we said no one else, how could you do this, babe."

"Pretty good, we'll have to fuck around with it tonight." Cindy sighed looking out at their first motel.

The bus stoping prompted everyone to grab there things and shuffle off the bus and into their rooms. The motel was two stories with a rickety teal staircase leading up to the second floor. The building itself was a cream color that had definitely once been much closer to white. Each brown door had a silver number hung crooked from age. The swift breeze nocked over an empty bottle someone had set out by their door after a late night of partying.