Where The Lines Overlap [CTH]

[15] Try hard

Calum

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The crowd's loud cheering faded into a more muffled buzz, as we rushed backstage through the dark, narrow way. We all tried our hardest not to trip over the wires and equipment which sprawled like vines and trees on the floor.

But soon enough, I heard Luke's familiar yelp behind me, before he fell with a thud on his knees to the floor. "Oh my God!" He cried out. We all turned around to see him crouched down. He held his guitar above him, which was still strapped around his body, caressing it like a baby in his arms,

If I could compare the experience of touring to anything, I would say it was like being part of a circus. Day in and day out, for the past three years, we've been roaming around from city to city, setting foot on different stages and sets, playing for different groups of people every night, with different backstage crews, working hard behind the scenes with us to collectively make the whole shebang of performing work.

It was a different scene every time, but this was what was normal for us, for now. Fortunately, through the midst of the madness, in each other's company, all four of us managed to remain the same. We were like brothers. This had become our family and a good hotel room and our tourbus, were our home.

Michael and I let out a laugh over Luke's clumsiness, before we both extended our hands to him to help him up....or so I thought. As before I could do so, Michael, who did the same, actually proceeded to aid not Luke, but him guitar. He quickly unstrapped it, before completely yanking it away from him, causing the other to abruptly stand upright.

"Are you alright, baby?" Michael cooed over the instrument, twisting and turning it in his possession, making sure it didn't suffer any damages.

"Thanks a lot, mate." Luke replied bitterly, before reaching over for his guitar."Now can you hand it over please?"

When Michael had his fun watching Luke throw a strop, he passed it back to him carefully.

"That's what you get for having such big feet!" Ashton, who was leading us in the darkness and now into and under the cheap white lights, teased him. He reached for the face towels and water bottles which were being held out to us by a crew member backstage and passed it to us, one by one.

"Well, you do know what they say about guys with big feet." Michael blurted, patting Luke in the back.

"Yeah but my feet are way bigge-..." I began to say under my breath, before pausing mid-sentence to swiftly catch a water bottle coming towards my face.

"Well done, you boys played great!!" The crew members shouted to us, over the noise. He had his two thumbs up in the air.

"Thanks!" Luke shouted back to him, before turning to me and muttering: "We all know it's not true, Calum."

I guess I was not as quiet as I thought I was.

"Jolly good show lads!" Ashton said aloud to all of us, with a very bad British accent. "We still need to meet the fans with backstage passes in a bit though."

Then, he buried his face into the one face towel left on his hand for himself, vigorously, almost scrubbing his entire face off with it. The rest of us did the same.

I don't think there's a method to playing that does not involve us breaking a sweat onstage. We always seem to. Though, Ashton sweats a bit more, if not the most, out of us all.

Luke bent over and carefully inspected his knees from his fall earlier. I rushed over to stand behind him, slapping the air around his ass jokingly. Michael and Ashton witnessed this but between the two of them, Michael couldn't hold in his laughter, causing Luke to realize what was happening behind him. Ashton, on the other hand, merely stood completely unfazed. As if this was the norm between us. Well, I suppose this was.