Rusty Halo - (The Script Fanfic) - ON HOLD

Chapter 3

Glen's POV

The tour bus was up on the road again. Who knew where we were heading next? We never got told. We were just expected to play and not ask questions. Sometimes, it's nice not to know as you can pretend you're home- that I am in fact playing in Dublin. You can paste the picture of your family in the crowd, singing their hearts out to the words you helped craft together to music. Nothing can compare to it. Also, home in Dublin has a different vibe. Don't get me wrong: I love to perform anywhere. There's just something about performing where you grew up. It's almost like rubbing it into your high school teachers and the feeling is great.

There are other perks to returning to Dublin. You get to stock up on tea. Now, that doesn't seem important to an outsider, but I doubt me and the lads would be able to function without a cup of tea in our hands for the majority of the day. That may seem a bit weird, but it's an Irish trait. Tea is a necessity,  a lot like air.

I took myself off into my bunk, taking out my phone to scroll through twitter. Sometimes it's a great ego-boost to see all the kind messages from The Script family. Everyone is so kind and supportive. But then, of course, you get the haters. It's funny how they only really target the band as a whole, or Danny individually. If I didn't know him any better, I'd say the hate would turn him crazy.

Mark and Danny walked down the tour bus, tea in their hand. They walked into the tour bus 'living room'. The door shut behind them and their voices were whispered. This was a usual occurence. They seemed to always be discussing things that I was never allowed to know about. Honestly, I was never sure if I was happy about the secrecy as it took a lot of weight off of my shoulders, or whether I was frustrated that I wasn't allowed to know. Instead, they left me to answer the tweets that were sent into us.

You know, the idea of a band is to be friends together. Honestly, we haven't been classed as 'friends' for quite a while. We've learned how to act for the cameras, but we've not been all that close for ages. Don't get me wrong, we are 'mates', but not 'friends' that we are always seen to be.

I continued to scroll through the accumulating tweets, feeling more and more in a shit mood. I took it to be me coming down from the adrenaline that had rushed through my veins on stage. Deciding that there truly was no point in staying up any longer in this uncomfortable world, I attempted sleep, wishing to re-enter my dream world.

But what is a dream world when you don't have dreams, but only nightmares?