Break My Stride

32 3 0

Four months. Four months of touring. Four months of drinking. Four months in a tour bus coasting all over America with the newest alternative band that was rising to the top of the charts, Resting Bitchface.

It was a dream. It had to be. Being played on the radio. People coming out to Resting Bitchface concerts only to see Galactic Cannibalism. Blue and Aiden felt as though they were back in high school with their old band, dreaming up scenarios neither ever thoughts would come true. Playing for large crowds. Signing fans breasts. People asking to sleep with them all.

Life was going well. With the success of the tour, it seemed rumors were spreading across the fanbase of an official album coming out. While they may have been met with mediocre success, there was no guarantee of a solo career. It didn't stop the band from wanting to tour, even if they remained an opening group for a while.

Suzanna, lead guitarist of Resting Bitchface, wandered over to Blue. With everyone off the bus to take a break at a pit stop, they continued to text Andrew while he was taking a break from a long meeting.

"I have to ask," she said as she sat down. "How do ya get through the long nights without him? Don't ya miss him like crazy?"

"Of course, I do. I love him. He's the most important person in my life...you know, other than Luke. But we still love each other after all this time apart, and we've worked towards making time for one another."

"By always texting him?" Suzanna smirked. "Gotta say, I admire your dedication. I could never do long distance. If I'm ever gonna get married, ya betta believe they will come with me on the road. I ain't trusting nobody."

"Good luck with that," Blue awkwardly chuckled.

It was challenging when the nights got long, and the two spent more time apart from one another than they hoped for, but it was all worth it. Blue was touring, living out the dream before the main dream. And Andrew supported them. He was there for them, ready to help them whenever he was called into action.

It helped that they always texted one another. They always responded to messages, even if the other couldn't respond right away. There were no good mornings or goodnights, just a long, endless stream of texts. I love you was the way one said good night, and the conversation would pick up the next day.

The only goodbyes were over the phone or computer (a rare event due to horrible Wi-Fi on the bus). And with each goodbye, a new hello would commence the moment one sent a text to the other. It was long and hard, missing the other's touch. But hearing the other's voice was enough to keep them moving, to keep them inspired. Nothing was going to break their stride.


A: Where are you playing tonight?

B: We're in Burlington. I'm excited. Rory said they have the fifth biggest GC fanbase. Looking out for a lot of fans

A: lol everyone is sure to be your fan when you play.

B: Oh ha ha

A: I'm serious. Your fanbase grows every day.

B: And how do you know that?

A: You told me


"Oh, he got you there," Alister teased.

Not realizing he was hovering over their shoulder, Blue jumped away, hit the wall of the bus, and growled in pain.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry. You okay? You need some ice?" he worried.

"No, no," Blue chuckled, "I'm fine. This shoulder has seen worse."

When The Nights Get LongWhere stories live. Discover now