Page 36 of The Masks We Wear

The waitress begins to write her drink order and I interrupt her, waving a hand in front of her notepad. “She’s kidding. She’s good with a water please. No mai tai.”

The waitress gives me a confused look but nods and walks away to fetch Ivory a glass of water. I feel eyes boring holes into the back of my head the entire time and heat begins to scorch the surface of my skin. I turn to find Harvey’s black eyes on me with a neutral expression. I notice the very faint hint of pride that flashes in his eyes before he breaks eye contact and looksback down.

Ivory drops a fist onto the table, “What the fuck, B?”

I frown, “Did you forget we’re all sober for the tour?” I scold her.

Aria rolls her eyes, but inevitably gets involved. “Right. The ‘Better in Hell’ tour continued. Might as well call it the ‘No Fucking Fun’ tour. I mean seriously, this is already miserable, and the tour ends in two months.”

The waitress comes back with Ivory’s water and asks, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Ivory gives me a threatening glare and then focuses her eyes on the waitress, grinning. “I’ll take that mai tai. Some people have a hard time remembering they don’t get to tell me what to do.”

My eye twitches as I look at the side of Ivory’s face with pure rage. The waitress glances at me, unsure what to do. “I’ll take a Moscow mule,” Aria asserts, her eyes on me the whole time.

The waitress nods awkwardly and walks away to fetch their drinks. “What the fuck is wrong with you two? Do youwantSelene to quit on us?” I raise my voice, my anger getting the better of me.

Aria snorts a laugh, “Selene isn’t here so she won’t know. Not unless you decide to snitch.”

Ivory leans in closer to me and cocks her head, “Yeah, are you gonna snitch, B?”

I lean in, not backing down. “When have I ever snitched on you?”

“At the studio,” Aria replies. I know exactly what she’s talking about. The one time I ever ratted on them. It was at the studio, weeks ago, right before the tour started and I had my outburst about being the only sober one on the tour.

Ivory shrugs, “Who knows, you might snitch again. Hard to tell with you now that you’re sober and fucking boring.”

There it is. The thing I was scared of the most. I feel my heart sink into the pit of my stomach as my face falls. “Seriously, Brody, what happened to you? You used to be fun and then Selene tells you you’re getting sober and gives you this babysitter, but you don’t eventryto have fun. The Sticks that we know would stop at nothing to have a good time,” Aria adds, sinking the knife in deeper.

The waitress returns with their drinks, and I struggle to find words. Instead, I push out of my chair and start walking away from them and to the elevators. Harvey follows behind me, close at my back and I just wish for once, I could be entirely and completely alone. I push the button for the elevator, and it pings, signaling the elevator is on its way down. I cross my arms over my chest and try to keep the tears at bay just a little longer. I feel that familiar feeling I get when I know Harvey is watching me, but when I turn and find the set of eyes on me, it isn’t Harvey because Harvey is at my back. It’s a man with an oily smile on his face and a dangerous gleam in his eyes, seated at the bar. I quickly look away, ignoring him, as the elevator doors open and I hurry inside. Harvey enters behind me and I make sure to stay as far from him as possible. He doesn’t say anything to me, still hellbent on ignoring me I assume.

When the doors open to our floor, I hurry out of the elevator and down the hall to where our rooms are. I rustle in my pocket for the key as my chest starts to shake and the dam holding my tears back starts to break down. Warm, salty tears roll down my cheeks and I keep my head down as I scan the key over the reader. Just when I open my door and step inside, a hand lands on the doorknob to stop me from entering. I know it’s Harvey’s, but I don’t turn to face him. He’s seen me cry once and I won’t let it happen again. “Brody,” his voice is low, calm. I can’t help but hear the pity in his tone.

“Don’t,” my voice cracks as I try to push the door open,avoiding his hand.

He exhales, “I know you aren’t okay,” his breath feels closer to my ear and I shake him off.

I shoulder the door and push it hard enough that his hand falls and he steps back, avoiding brushing my shoulder with his arm. The lengths he’d go to to avoid touching me is the final nail in my coffin. “I’m fine,” I lie as I slam my door shut in his face. He doesn’t say anything from the other side, nor does he try to come in. I watch through the peephole in the door as he just walks away as he always does. You’d think by now I’d get used to him walking away from me but for some reason it hurts more every time, especially now. Maybe it’s because when I was having those issues with the girls before the tour, he was there. Now that I’m having issues again, he isn’t there. He’s here but he isn’there.

I sink to the floor as sobs wrack through my chest. They tear free from my throat and I cry out.You’re sober and fucking boring. Ivory’s words cut through the walls of my heart and drive home.Might as well call it the “No Fucking Fun” tour.Aria’s bitter words leave me broken. These are my best friends and everything I was afraid of happening, is happening. They’re done with me and soon enough they’ll replace me entirely and Brody Drake will exist to nobody. I’ll be irrelevant again and all I’ll have is my brother and my parents who can’t stand to look at me, too disgusted with my choice in lifestyle. I’ll have Selene but even she won’t want to be bothered with me. She’ll be too busy managing Satan’s Angels, Ivory and Aria, and whatever fucking drummer they replace me with.

I bring my knees up to my chest and hug them as I cry into the denim of my jeans. I’ve worn a mask for so long, pretending to be someone I’m not so that people will worship and like me. I’ve tried so hard to be relevant and to stay at the top that I lost sight of who I was completely, and I accepted that fate. I thoughtit was a small price to pay to keep my fame and my friends but now? Now I’m losing italland I won’t even have Brody Drake when it’s over. I don’t know who I am if I’m not Sticks. I have an unfamiliar feeling in my gut like I just met a stranger but the stranger in question is myself.

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THE TEARS STOPPED SOMEtime ago and the headache settled in. I tried to sleep somewhere around midnight, but it just wouldn’t come. My eyes burn from crying and they’re puffy and bloodshot. My lips are also puffed up and the frown on my face feels almost permanent, like it will never go away. I decided to take a steaming hot bath, hoping it would at least cure the headache. I love a hot bath but I’m no fool, I know it isn’t fixing the broken pieces of my heart. It may however just settle the pounding in my head and lull me to sleep.

It’s after one in the morning now, and I close my eyes. The silence in the room pains me and I’m surprised to find that even in my pain, song still finds me. My song lyrics I came up with before the tour started, come back and play in my head.

The red and blue lights shine right in my eyes

She stops and demands I say my goodbyes

Anger arises as I learn I’ll never be coming back

The Devil sends temptation as a form of attack

They told you I’m the serpent in disguise

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