A Hotter Touch, A Better F... Than Any Girl You'll Ever Meet

Chapter 11

"Why the hell did you do that?" I asked when we were backstage again and I'd been let down on the floor. I could see Spencer and Brent out of the corner of my eye, animatedly explaining the venue officials as well as FFTL why they were taking the stage a quarter of an hour early.

"Do what?" he returned.

"End the show," I explained.

"Because I didn't want to see you actually collapse on stage. You might joke about it but I'm worried and I'm calling a doctor," he said in one breath, sending me a stern look.

"I don't need..." I started, remembering my dislike of doctors before suddenly loosing my trail of thought as my stomach contorted and I could taste acid in my mouth. "A doctor," I finished before emptying all contents of my stomach all over the floor. I would've collapsed on top of it if Brendon hadn't been quick and caught me.

Once again he picked me up as easily as if I were a child and carried me to a couch where he put me down and wordlessly handed me an abandoned waterbottle, which I gratefully took. He needn't speak his disagreement, the light raise of his eyebrows before he picked his phone out of his pants pocket said enough.

As he spoke to what I assumed must be a doctor all I could do was lie down, drink my water and guiltily eye the people who'd scrambled together to clean up the mess I'd made of the floor.

******

Who knew staying off your feet completely for five days could be so boring?

Pete had ended up taking over my guitar in our show, every night giving the audience the message that I'd caught the flu, was sorry I couldn't be there but needed to stay in bed.

Lying in bed is incredibly antisocial. I'd been fleetingly introduced to From First to Last and had sad a couple of quick 'hello's to Andy, Joe and Patrick, but that was that. The rest of Panic! weren't around much either, being busi with interviews and fans and whatnot.

The third day of the tour we were finally spending the night in a hotel for the first time. It wasn't that greatest hotel ever, but there were beds and there was a TV and decent enough lighting so I wasn't about to complain. It was one hell of a lot better than the bus in any case.

I was spending the room with Spencer and he was in the middle of buttoning up his shirt before one of the numerous interviews.

I'd been thinking a lot the previous days. I mean, lying idle gives you a lot of time to do just that, and somehow with every thought another question was presented and I was doubting every aspect of myself more and more with each passing hour. "Spence," I suddenly replied.

"Yeah?" He turned around to look a me.

I fumbled a bit with the lighter, firing up a cigarette as I started to formulate sentences in my mind. "You know how you said that who I was when I was young doesn't have to have anything to do with who I am now?" I finally asked after expelling the first mouthful of smoke.

"Yes," he answered, looking confused.

"What about the others?" I questioned.

The confused look on his face easily told me that he had no clue who I was talking about.

"The other boys." I gulped slowly, feeling awkward and uncomfortable now. "My... ex-boyfriends," I finally explained.

"Oh," he muttered, sending me a glance. "Are you sure you want to talk about this?"

I nodded, feeling dread settle in my still sore stomach.

"I still hang out with Jerry once in a while," he revealed. "I went out for dinner with Jaime and him and his boyfriend a month or so ago. I always liked that kid," he told me, referring to my second boyfriend.