Friday, 6th of April, 2007 - Detroit, Michigan
Now that Patrick had his precious Gretsch back in his hands, the show sounded flawless. Nobody messed up, the vocals were perfect, and there were no more accidents involving Pete punching equipment. They weren't quite sure if it was actually the guitar or just Patrick being willing to perform better from behind his favourite instrument, but everyone was glad to be back in the groove. The crowd went wild for them and that only filled the band with even more adrenalin than what they already had. Only one more night and they'd be back at home. The label hadn't booked them a hometown show until the end of their tour when they came back for the second leg, but they had already had a few close friends ask for garage gigs to fill the void until they went back on tour in June. They gladly accepted. After their show in Michigan they had decided to go out for a few celebratory drinks at the closest bar to the venue. This was the last show of this leg and they had nowhere to be the next morning, no responsibilities until they got back to Chicago. They also had a bed each for their final night on tour which made going home drunk all the sweeter. Joe had said it was his aunt's place but the grungy decorating style and stench of weed made that seem unlikely. Regardless, it had five bedrooms, a functional television and more than enough food to feed them for the 24 hours they'd be there. The plan was to start the four hour drive back home once they were sober enough to drive the next day. A few die-hard fans had already made the trip to see them play, they were faces that Joe had recognised and invited out to the bar with them.
Pete had offered to buy everyone a round of drinks as soon as they got there, instantly becoming the fan favourite and drawing the attention of other patrons. Andy rolled his eyes as he ordered himself water instead. He shouldn't be surprised by Pete's love for attention from strangers by now, but it sometimes made celebrating a successful show a bit harder.
"A toast!" Pete shouted, holding up his glass. Everyone turned to look at him and did the same. "To the album, the tour and going home!" He grinned, taking a large mouthful of the drink. The small crowd shouted in agreement as the band shared a collective look of pride. Regardless of Pete's attention seeking ways, they were still happy to celebrate how well their first ten shows had been. After the toast, the drinks were flowing pretty fast; probably because Pete kept buying them for people. People quickly congregated around the man who was all too happy to take his wallet out while the other four members of their group found a quieter table in the back to celebrate with a little less grandeur. Andy and Joe had very quickly gotten into a debate about who was more excited to go home. The former arguing that he had a girlfriend waiting for him and the latter pointing out that being at home in your own bed is better than staying in someone else's, regardless of if you get sex in that bed or not. Patrick found himself looking at the girl sitting across from him, thinking that maybe tonight was the night to ask her on a date before they got home and parted ways for nearly two months. But whenever he tried to his heart felt like it was sitting in his throat, stopping the words from coming out.
"So... what are you gonna do when you get back home?" She asked finally, staring into her half empty glass. He sighed in relief, glad to have something to break the silence as the other half of the table continued to argue.
"Probably mess around with some music. We're on a bit of a break from writing and recording at the moment until we finish the tour, but I've got some ideas of my own." He shrugged. She looked up at him curiously, urging him to continue. "I uh... produce music sometimes. Sometimes write my own stuff, play the instruments and all. The lyrics aren't as good as Pete's but the music is pretty good. Or I think so, anyway." He admitted sheepishly.
"That's so awesome, Pat! I'd love to hear it sometime." She beamed up at him. "How do you manage it all yourself?"
"I have this... huge switch board thing? It... It's hard to explain." He laughed, "But it lets me mix all the sounds and stuff. It would be better to show you to explain it, then you can see what it does. I've got it at home, I'll just show you once we're back in Chicago." He nodded, giving her a small smile. The thought of hanging out outside of band-related work made her pulse pick up ever so slightly. It sounded like a good step in the right direction.
"Sounds like a plan." She grinned, holding her glass up. He tapped his to it and took a sip, an excited glint in his blue eyes. The familiar ringtone of her phone suddenly broke their conversation. She fished the phone out of her pocket, seeing her manager's name blinking across the screen. It had been a while since she'd heard from the label, but she wasn't expecting to hear from them until they were back in Chicago next week. "Sorry, I've just gotta take this." She excused herself, pushing her way through the small crowd that had formed and into what looked like an unused coat room.
"Hey, boss." She answered with a laugh, trying to keep the mood light in case she was being told off for something she wasn't aware of. Fireworks instantly came to mind.
"Hi, just calling to check in and see how it's all going?" His voice echoed down the line.
"Excellently! The shows are going off without a hitch other than the guitar damage you are already aware of, and everyone is doing pretty well for themselves." She found herself nodding, even though she knew he couldn't possibly see that.
"Good to hear." The sound of chatter and shuffling papers could be heard in the background, she assumed he probably just got out of a meeting and was asked to check in. "So Peter has been behaving since the incident on stage with the guitar?" He asked. She paused for a moment, thinking back to the lamp at the party and the interview a few days ago.
"Yep." She lied.
"Great, I'm glad that our investment in hiring you is paying off. Hopefully soon enough he'll stop acting out all together and you can be back here in Chicago!" His words hung in the static air for a moment as she tried to process them.
"You mean... go back to my old job?" She asked with a frown.
"Well, maybe not your old job. There's talk of giving you a promotion for how well you've done with this!" He was trying to make it sound like her being back in their stuffy office would be a good thing, but that was the last thing she wanted. In the background she could hear him continue to talk about what the promotion would mean for her, but the thought of not being on tour with the guys anymore was all that ran through her mind. She didn't want to leave; the thought hurt a lot more than she was willing to admit after only having known them for about a month. It was just too easy to fall into their routines, and they were far too easy to get along with. Even Pete had turned out pretty good in the end. His ridiculous antics normally brought humour to their days, not that she'd ever tell him that. Eventually she heard her name being called through the phone and tried to snap back to reality.
"Sorry, what did you say?" She asked, scrunching her eyes up and trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind.
"I said drive safe and we'll see you when you get to Chicago." He laughed lightly as the line went dead.
His words echoed around her head: she'd have to leave the band. It shouldn't have come as that much of a surprise, she should have known that eventually she would be leaving the band, it wasn't like she was going to tour with them forever. But it wasn't something that had crossed her mind. As much as she missed her family and friends, this new life on tour was one she had already grown used to. She'd be losing four friends and going back to a job she hated. And Patrick- Patrick. Her head spun. She had only just accepted that she might have feelings for him and it was so quickly ripped out from under her. If something happened between them and then the label decided that her job was done and she needed to be back in the office, it would be heartbreaking. She couldn't do that to him. She found herself pacing the small room, trying to think of a way out of being assigned back to a desk job. He'd called it a promotion, so maybe if she did a terrible job they wouldn't promote her? But then they'd probably just hire someone else to be Pete's impulse control. Maybe she could just quit? But that was too risky, what if the band didn't want to keep her around? She'd have no reason to be there if she quit. Heading back into the bar right now seemed like a bad idea, she needed time to process this information and work out the best course of action. She sent Pete a quick text to say she would see them back at the house and left.
"What do you mean she left?" Patrick asked with a frown as he finally cornered Pete at the bar.
"I dunno man, she just texted me saying she was going back to the house." Pete shrugged, taking his fifth jacks and coke from the bartender greedily. He was nowhere near drunk enough to deal with the fact that people he knew had driven up to Detroit to see them play and had then followed them out for the night. Entertaining them on stage and in this bar was too much pressure for a sober Pete. But a drunk and cash-happy Pete was someone everyone loved, and being able to distract himself with stranger's affections was something he always enjoyed.
"Why?" He pressed.
"I don't know." He repeated as he took a mouthful of his drink. "Why don't you go ask her for yourself?" He asked with a sly smile.
"Well, obviously none of you are going to." He huffed, finishing his drink and setting the glass on the bar.
"Go get 'em, tiger." Pete winked, pushing Patrick's shoulder lightly.
"Shut up." He grumbled, pulling his cap low over his eyes as he left the bar.
She couldn't remember the last time in the past month that she had privacy, proper privacy. Not just a room to yourself, but a whole house to yourself. By the time the taxi had dropped her off back at where they were staying for the night it was about two in the morning. Knowing how the guys liked to party and the fact that they didn't need to leave first thing the next morning, she assumed she'd probably have a couple of hours to herself until they drunkenly stumbled through the door. At first the silence had been nice. The space and quiet had been room to think, to breathe and try to get a grasp on what might happen in the break before their second leg. She assumed it was fairly likely that she would hold her position until the end of the tour and then things would be reassessed, but that depended on what happened in the month the band was at home. Maybe in light of that Pete hadn't cost them anything in a while they wouldn't let her go on the second leg of tour to save on the hotel rooms and bigger tour bus. They might consider that a better cost saver than hiring her to watch Pete for another month. If they made her keep the desk job, she might not see the band again. They'd almost certainly lose contact when they went back on tour. She found herself chewing at the side of her nail anxiously and decided maybe this house was too quiet. Maybe being left alone with her thoughts was not as an excellent idea as it had been at the bar. A few minutes later she had the TV on loud enough to be a decent distraction and a bag of potato chips in hand, deciding that it was an issue that could be dealt with later.
The minutes dragged on into what felt like hours, and soon enough her brain was slowly starting to give way to sleep and forget about the thoughts that had been worrying her; until a knock at the door abruptly pulled her back to reality. She grudgingly pulled herself up to her feet and looked through the peephole in the door, seeing a familiar sideburn and cap clad singer on the other side.
"Pat?" She frowned as she opened the door. "You're back early." She moved to the side, letting him into the house.
"Yeah, Pete told me you left so I thought I'd just make sure you were all right." He explained before shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the table next to the front door. His eyes were instantly drawn to the flickering of the TV and the half eaten bag of chips on the couch. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Something like that." She nodded, moving back to the couch to retrieve the bag of chips and put them back in the cupboard.
"Did you want company?" He offered, taking a step closer. The warning bells went off in her brain straight away: getting close with him meant that inevitably it will all get taken away.
"Uh, no. I might just go to bed actually." She rushed out. He stared at her in confusion. "It... it's pretty late." She tried to lie, feeling like her face was probably betraying her with how red it felt.
"Oh, okay." He swallowed hard at the hurt that pooled in his chest. She went to walk past him in the direction of the bedrooms but he caught her wrist in his grip. "It, um... I didn't do anything, did I?" He asked anxiously as she turned to look at him. "Just you left right after we talked, and-"
"No, it's not you." She answered. "It's just work stuff."
"Allright..." He nodded softly. "I know you work for our bosses and all, but if I canhelp all you need to do is ask." The amount of genuine care in his eyes wasenough to push her over the edge. Instantly she felt the tears threatening tospill, so she mumbled a thank you before quickly retreating to her room.Leaving him standing in the hallway alone.