“So let this short tour be a test. Leave things alone and see how you feel when you get back home. If at the end, you feel this long-distance thing didn’t work, call it off before we leave for our big tour. This could just be a little sample of what your relationship might look like.”
I nod. I guess that’s a good idea. “What are you doing up so late and why have you been on your phone so much?”
He rolls his eyes and shows me his phone. There’s a picture of a woman with long, blonde hair. She’s cute and sweet-looking—definitely not Van’s usual type.
“Who’s that?”
“Her name is Abby. She’s a girl I started seeing a couple months ago.”
My mouth drops open. “You mean you gave Daniel and me all that shit and you were doing the same thing?”
He nods. “I think I focused on you guys so I wouldn’t have to focus on my own shit.”
I nod in understanding. “So who is this girl? How’d you meet?”
“She’s the artist who did my last tattoo. She runs her own shop back in Chicago. We’ve spent most of the last month together.”
“This girl is a tattoo artist?” I ask, looking at her pink lips, long blonde curls, and perfect skin. She looks more like a model you’d see in an all-girl Catholic school brochure than someone who permanently brands people’s skin.
He nods. “Damn good too.”
“She looks so innocent,” I joke, but am also completely serious.
He snickers. “Yeah, that’s what drew me to her in the first place. She has that dirty librarian vibe. You know, strait-laced and sweet until the library closes. Then she strips down to this sexy dominatrix type.”
I laugh and shake my head. “There’s something wrong with you.”
“What? You can’t tell me it isn’t the same with Dan! He’s a lawyer who spends his days in a suit and tie for crying out loud.”
I laugh. “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it like that though. And my guy can be dirty, that’s for sure.” I can’t hold back the smile that thought just brought on.
He scoffs. “Gross.”
I hold up my middle finger before shoving a cracker in my mouth. “I guess we’re both screwed, huh?”
“Not both of us—all of us.”
“What does that mean?”
“Lane and Ridge are screwed too. Lane started dating this college girl and Ridge fell in love with a bartender. They’re been on their phones the whole time too.”
I laugh and shake my head. “Fate has damn good timing, you know that?” I joke.
He laughs and nods. “Yep, fate and karma are both bitches in my book.”
I shake my head as I stand to put away the crackers. “I’m going back to sleep. Talk to you in the morning.” I take my water and go back to my bedroom, ready to be alone as I try to get some sleep.
We spend a lot of time on the bus, traveling from place to place. Van and I work on writing new music and just practicing some of the new songs from the album. We spend a lot of time on our phones, keeping in touch with our friends and family, and checking social media to watch as our band’s pages slowly start to grow. Most of the time, we have a massive surge of followers after a show, and we’ve watched our first single climb the charts every day. It’s currently sitting in the number six spot. All and all, this tour has been good for the band, however, it’s nothing like what I thought it would be.
When I was back home and picturing myself on tour, I envisioned awesome shows, new adventures, getting time off the bus to just wander around whatever city we’re in, big parties, and lots of fun. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The shows are pretty awesome, but there’s no venturing out on our own. We’re on the bus, then we go to perform, and afterward, we’re right back on the bus to make it to the next gig. There are no adventures, no fun, no parties. But most of all, I miss Daniel.
We talk every night, and we text a lot throughout the day. It feels like nothing has changed between us, except for the fact that we can’t be together. We FaceTime as often as we can, but it’s not the same. It sucks not being able to reach out and touch the person you love. I can’t run my fingers through his hair or my hand across the thick stubble of his jaw, and I miss following the hard lines on his six-pack. I don’t get to feel his strong arms wrapped around me or breathe in his scent that gets left behind on my pillows. There’s so much more to a relationship than just talking and sex. I love the little things like turning around to catch the other person checking you out, seeing small smiles and grins when they think you’re not looking, and all those small touches, tickles, and kisses we too often take for granted.
Really, the only time I’m able to stop thinking about him is when I’m on stage—in front of thousands of people cheering us on. But that doesn’t last long enough. He’s on my mind constantly and that leaves me wondering how he’s really doing without me. Is he having to fight away thoughts of me constantly like I am of him? God, I hope not. Feeling this way only makes me want to release him more—let him move on with his life so he doesn’t spend it waiting. But that thought alone is enough to have acid bubbling up my throat and my heart quickening in panic.
We’ve officially made it to New York. It’s our last show before making our way back to the Midwest. We have a few shows along the way, but in one week, I’ll be able to hide away from the world in Daniel’s arms.
The more shows we do and the more popular we get, the more I’m seeing of us on YouTube and Instagram. People are making videos and taking pictures of not only me and the band, but of the places we used to work and the people we spend time with. I’ve seen so many short features on myself already. They show the music store and tell the story of how as a young girl, I frequently visited it with my father. They paint a picture of a girl who was lost in the world until she found that store, and to the reporters, it’s like a key to the world I’m living in now.
The old pictures that were snapped of Daniel and me are plastered up everywhere with titles like Who is this mystery man? Is Luna keeping secrets? Is the lead singer and guitarist of The Wonder Kings in a secret relationship? It drives me crazy. I signed up for this and I know it comes with a certain amount of exposure, but Daniel didn’t, and I wish they’d leave him alone.
He’s told me stories over the past couple weeks of being chased into buildings to avoid people taking his picture and asking questions about me. He’s even had to chase them out of his law office. It’s like people aren’t happy with the pieces of ourselves that we give. They always want more. I’ve apologized to Daniel many times, but he knows this isn’t my fault and there’s nothing I can do about it. It does leave me wondering if he’s starting to give us a second thought, like is Luna really worth losing my own privacy over? Hopefully, I’ll get the answer to that next week.
When our bus arrives at the theater, the parking lot is already packed full of cars. The bus has to drive through a screaming horde of fans dying to get an autograph, a picture, or just a look at us. At this point, they seem happy with anything.
I take a deep breath to prepare for the fans waiting outside the bus. I couldn’t be more thankful for the barricade keeping them back. When the bus stops, I get to my feet and move toward the exit. The doors open and our ears are blasted with loud screams. It’s deafening.