Page 142 of Five Summers

“How fucking long, Princess,” I insist.

“Since yesterday.”

“Fantastic!” Reg interrupts. “Since you fucked her, you’ll probably get what she has. That's just perfect, having to cancel the tour.”

I choose to ignore the jerk for now because my main concern is Poppy. I’ll deal with him later for making that comment in front of everyone.

“You should have said you were sick,” I remark.

“I’m fine,” she replies, slightly annoyed.

“You’re not fine,” Ace interrupts. “You look like shit.”

“Wow, don’t you know how to make a girl feel special,” she says.

“That’s not what I meant, Poppy. It’s just...”

“It’s cool, Ace,” she responds with a slight smile. “I’m just messing with you.”

I move across andgrab a bottle from the fridge. Returning, I hand the bottle to Poppy. She takes it but doesn’t drink it; instead, she holds the cold bottle against her forehead and then moves it down to her neck.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I say, leaving her on the couch.

Moving down the front steps, I step outside in search of Kit. After a while, I finally spot her by the side of another bus,casually taking a drag from a cigarette as she chats with a group of people.

As I get closer, the conversation fades away. Kit offers me a cigarette, but I decline politely. With our busy schedules with upcoming radio interviews and a sold-out concert in a smaller city on the way to Melbourne, I let Kit know what I need from the pharmacy and ask her to organize a doctor in case Poppy’s condition worsens in the next few days.

Making my way back onto the bus, I notice that Theo, Nate, and Ace have taken seats on the opposite couch from Poppy. Reg sits alone at the table, engrossed in his laptop. He glances up as I approach, and I purposely ignore making eye contact, because shit will hit the fan if he says anything. Instead, I settle down on the floor, leaning against the couch where Poppy has peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Clearly annoyed, Reg closes his laptop and heads to his room. Thank fuck for that, because I really don’t want to hear him complain about meaningless shit.

Now that the band is on the bus, our bus driver, Rob, joins us. “Kit said we're good to roll. Just making sure everyone is here,” he says.

“Yeah,” Ace replies, “Everyone is here.”

Nodding, he gets into the driver’s seat.

Within minutes, the engine roars to life, and the bus departs from the venue.

A large sigh escapes Ace’s lips, drawing everyone’s attention. “I’m sorry, guys,” he says, scanning the group. “I made a mistake by listening to the damn label. It’s clear now that we’re the ones who know where our band should be heading.”

“Wow! What a complete fucking turnaround,” Nate states. “So, what made you change your mind?”

"I've been reflecting on everything we discussed that day at Xander's. I stepped back and observed the situation. Watchingthat train wreck with Xander tonight, I see I was wrong. We can’t keep going on like this.”

"Holy shit," Theo says, sliding his hand into his pocket. “Wait up. I gotta capture this moment. Ace admitting he messed up? That’s rare."

Nate and I burst into laughter.

“Man, fuck you,” Ace says, pushing Theo’s phone away. “I now realize that half of the shit Reg told me isn’t Xander’s fault. I’m sorry, man. I should have talked to you first.”

“So, what’s the plan now?” Nate asks.

“Don’t know yet. But I think we should schedule a meeting with Lionel once we’re back and insist on having more control over our work,” Ace suggests.

“You really think that'll change anything? Lionel is raking in the cash from our hard work, and he couldn’t care less about giving us a break or dealing with Reg,” I interject, grabbing my whisky bottle from the table.

“Well if he doesn’t, we go out on our own,” Ace declares.

---