Page 44 of Composed at Randy's
I curl into his side and let him lead me out of the café.
Chapter 14
Bael
“Ithink I'll be okay on my own for five minutes.”
This sentence haunts my every waking second as we make our way to Connecticut.
Not that I was sleeping or anything. It just sounds more dramatic if I say it that way, and since I’m feeling incredibly upset right now, you need to feel it with me.
Why did Wren leave? Was it something I did? Was it something I didn't do? I really should have offered to give him all of my cats…
I didn't fire Brent or James because telling them to keep an eye on Wren had been a stupid idea in the first place. I'm the one who was supposed to be taking care of him, so making sure he didn't slip out is all on me.
What if he's cold? He didn't have a jacket. “Goddammit, Harvey,” I shout toward the back of the bus. “Why didn't you make sure Wren got a jacket when you brought him clothes?”
“Harvey's not here buddy, remember? You made a deal with him that you'd only get on the bus if he stayed behind to find Wren.” Mel rubs my shoulders, probably in an attempt to be soothing.
I am not soothed.
“He'd better fucking find Wren,” I growl. “I'm not above hopping off this bus and catching a ride back to Boston.”
Everyone knows I mean this because I don't make empty threats.
Why should I? Making threats is boring and pointless. Action is what gets you what you need.
“I’m sure Wren is okay, Bael,” Travis says as he pokes at the not-Elvis fan hanging on the wall. He jumps backward post-poke, but when it does nothing otherworldly, he adds, “He made it this long on his own, didn't he?”
“He obviously didn’t, Travis. Don’t poke the bear.” Shay pulls Travis away and gives me arough deal, buddyshrug.
Laura isn’t here because she promised to stay at the hotel in case Wren comes back, and he’d probably be happier if someone he knows is there.
I don't end up catching a cab as soon as I get off the bus because Harvey is giving me regular updates on his progress. Which is zero, but I know Harvey. If there's something out there to be found, he'll find it. I have full confidence in his ability to hunt down Wren and remotely supervise tonight's gig.
So I obediently allow Trina to turn me into a goth wet dream, but I don't bother checking the results before stepping on stage because my mind isn't in Hartford, Connecticut. Instead, I do what I do best: Something stupid and impulsive.
I gaze soulfully out into the crowd. I'm sad, I'm mad, I'm scared, and I'm not ashamed to hide it. I'm not doing any of this grin-and-bear-it bullshit.
“Thank you for coming today,” I say. “It means everything to me and the rest of the band because I know this shit is expensive and sometimes getting out of the house is hard. Thank you for supporting us by doing the hard thing. Every single one of us knows we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you.”
The crowd goes completely berserk, cheering and waving banners and glow sticks. Our fans are just the best, aren't they?
“Leaving my home was really hard for me today,” I continue, and the crowd goes dead silent. I don't tend to get personal on stage, so everyone is probably a little confused right now. If Harvey’s prone to having a stroke, this will be what does it. Hang in there Harvey. “I just met someone amazing. He's the coolest guy—cute, funny, and weird in all the right ways.”
There's a loud crash behind me and I turn to see that Travis has fallen off of his stool, narrowly missing taking out his drum kit. Travis is a topsy-turvy guy when he's stressed out, have you noticed?
There’s a smattering of laughter from the crowd but mostly everyone seems entranced by whatever the hell I'm doing right now. I wait a second to make sure Travis is okay before I continue. He's fine. Travis is small but he's a resilient little bugger.
Thank god he didn't fuck up the drum kit or we'd be here an extra hour setting it back up again.
“Sorry about that, Travis,” I give him a little wave. “I'll try to give you a warning the next time I decide to do my soul searching in public.”
Travis gives me the finger, and everyone laughs. When the crowd calms down, I say, ”I think I scared him away though. I'm not sure how I did it, but I'm going to find out as soon as I can, and I'm going to fix it. That's what we do right? We're human and we fuck up, but what keeps us from being shitty people is that we admit our fuckups and try and do better.”
I pause and stare across the crowd. I wish Wren was here. I wish I could say this to him. I wish I could find out why he left.
“As soon as this concert is over, I'm going to find him and tell him how I feel, and you're all going to be super nice to him about it, okay? No internet bullying. I'm pretty sure I don't needto say this to you guys, but I've seen some scary things happen to other musicians’ and artists’ lovers, so I need to be proactive about this. I love my guy, and I will kick the shit out of anyone who makes him cry.”
