blind eyes

14 Sunday

"I like it sweet like me," he winked at her. Wrapping an arm tight around her shoulders, he yawned again. "What is that idiot doing back there?"

"Building a fucking Gymboree in the back lounge," Ryan groaned as he made a cup of coffee and then handed the steaming mug to Sunday. "Ladies first," he smiled.

"Thank you!" she blushed as she took the offered beverage. "You're so sweet, Ry."

Chris groaned, uttering a mocking stream of expletive-tainted words beneath his breath. "So, what are we doing today?"

Before Sunday could respond, there was a loud crash from the rear of the touring vehicle, one that shook the entire lounge. When she heard the accompanying whine and a loud, "My butt is broken!," she tried not to spray coffee everywhere.

Hunched over like Quasimodo, Rick stomped up to the front and glared at his friends. "Don't fucking say it, okay? Also, can you break your tailbone?"

"Yes," Chris nodded, rolling his eyes at the other man. "But you wouldn't be stomping around like a pissed off squirrel if you broke your tailbone. So, you're fine!"

Rick huffed, then tossed himself down beside Sunday and groaned. Rubbing his lower back, he whined. "Oh motherfucking pickled beets, that hurts like a son of a bitch!"

Ryan shook his head and pointedly ignored the fact that the other guitarist was the only one without coffee. "This is the spot where I want to make a Pickle Rick joke, but being as you just broke your pickle I'm going to behave."

"Funny," the other man winced. "Ha ha."

Finally feeling guilty for assuming that her friend was just joking, Sunday frowned. "Are you seriously hurt, Rick? If so, I can go with you to an Urgent Care or the ER. We should get you checked out to make sure you didn't injure yourself."

"I DID INJURE MYSELF," he responded and then blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. Yes, I am really hurt."

Chris shook his head slowly. "He's a fucking imbecile and an adult, let him take care of his own bony ass."

"Be that as it may," his girlfriend clucked at him in derision, "Brendan isn't going to have time in his day for this. So, I'm going to find an Urgent Care and get Rick checked out. You have interviews at noon, 1PM and 2PM today. Don't let them go over thirty minutes, okay? They will phone you. After your 2PM, get ready because you have some contest winners arriving before the Meet & Greet at 5PM."

Growing petulant, he jabbed a finger in the guitarist's direction. "What about him?"

"He needs to see a doctor because he's a fucking idiot," Sunday smiled sweetly. "We'll be back in time for the Meet & Greet and, if not, for the show."

Now cradling his right arm against his chest, Rick moaned. "I might have broken my tibia too."

Ryan simply shook his head as a smirk widened across his lips. "If I have to play the show without you tonight, just know that I will be .... THRILLED!"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

By some miracle, she had managed to find an Urgent Care that was a five-minute Uber ride away, and due to the off hour in the middle of the work week, Rick had been seen by the doctor quickly. He had bruised his coccyx upon his very graceless landing, but nothing was broken and he had been given a prescription for low-dose pain pills. Elated to be given a clean bill of health—but mostly to be off the bus and away from his bandmates—he had dragged Sunday to a nearby Applebee's for lunch.

Seated in the booth across from him, she was mesmerized by his ability to go from moaning in pain to giddy over a ridiculous, fruity tankard of alcohol. "I hate to be the adult here, but you shouldn't drink that then take pain medication," she lectured.

He waved his tattooed hand in her face. "Pssh. I'm fine. I deserve this after what I went through today. Do you know that I fell ten feet?"

"That's not possible," she laughed as she dipped a French fry into a glob of ketchup. "The ceiling in the back lounge isn't even seven feet."

"Shut up," he smiled warmly. Then his expression shifted through a series of emotions before settling on something serious. "Thank you, Sunday. For coming with me and for believing me. The guys would have just blown it off as me being melodramatic."

She nodded. "Probably because you are melodramatic, but you're welcome."

Casually trying to test the waters, he pointed one of his own fries at her and smiled. "Hey, have things improved with Chris? You seem happier lately."

Her expression fell immediately, but she caught herself and tried to force a continued smile. "Things are ..." her voice trailed into silence and she glanced down at her wrap. "They are what they are, right? I think when we get home it will be better."

Hiding behind his massive burger, he continued to prod. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," she smiled sadly. "Like I said, it is what it is. He's somewhere else mentally most of the time—busy playing the role of Chris Motionless."

Rick couldn't nod with his face in his food. "I agree that he's been off lately; he's not himself."

"Yeah," she agreed sadly. "On our last day off, he spent the entire day in bed at the hotel and I had to go out and see the city alone."

Sadly, his mind was racing and he could barely hold up his end of the conversation. The words were on the tip of his tongue and he wanted so badly to tell her, to tell his friend what her boyfriend was doing behind her back, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't be the one to deliver so much emotional agony to someone whom he adored. Realizing that he had to say something, he offered: "I would have gone with you!"

Sunday blushed. "By the time I realized that I had to either go it alone or miss out on seeing anything, you and Ryan had already left to go take photos somewhere. I couldn't find either of you and my battery died so I couldn't text. I just took that as a sign that I should be alone for a while, so I roamed around with my camera and did my thing. It was nice, quiet."

Rick could easily sense the forced calm in her voice, how she was trying to hold back her sadness. He sighed. "Well, there's always next time, right? And if you need another break, I can fall again and break my foot or something."

She laughed half-heartedly at this and then turned to glance outside the window, watching as cars came and went from the crowded parking lot. "You need to be more careful, Rick. You get in these moods and you think you're invincible but you're not. What if you had really hurt yourself?"

"I did," he shook his head and pointed at his ass. "I bruised my cock."