Page 83 of Knot Their Opening Act

“The bus? Yes!”

“Let’s get you down there, rock star,” says Thomas. We look at each other and smile. I know now about the video game, and the fact that he’d felt drawn to her character, without knowing her identity for so long; I know how Holden connected with her style, her voice, and her music from the day we met her but never felt he could say so—that she was what he’d listened to in his headphones all this time; and I know how Nico felt unspoken inferiority with his favorite relative Enzo, and Jez alone told him what he’d needed to hear for so long.

All of the time spent struggling could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t let fear steer me. Right now I don’t know how to ever let go of that guilt. As happy as I am we found her and she found us, really foundus, the guilt whispers it will never leave my side.

* * *

The bus is parked behind the hotel and we haven’t been on it since checking in. At least, I haven’t been on it. But as it’s Jez’s first time on tour, I’ve gotten the sense she needs that familiarity of something consistent, even if we’re not traveling or sleeping on it every day. Or, in fact, most days.

Holden flicks all the lights on in the main common area as Jez leads us back to her room. “So, dumb question, but how is this thing powered if it’s not running?” She sticks the key back in her pocket.

“Plugged into shore power,” I say. “Like caravan parks have, but a bit more reliable I’d say.”

“Except for that one time in Italy,” Holden notes. Enzo grumbles.

“You bring that up every time. That is not the whole of the country’s fault.”

“I didn’t say it?—”

I hold up a hand and they stow it as Jez slides the pocket door to the side and my jaw flies open. Even Nico, who’s been in here before, looks a bit stunned.

“Had some downtime to decorate, I take it?” I ask.

Jez grins and nods. She waves her hands like a game show host at the walls of the small space which has been transformed into a pastel dream. Along with twinkling fairy lights entwined with light pastel Christmas tinsel, giving a disco ball ambience to the place, she has papered the walls and ceiling with not one butthreemurals.

The ceiling resembles a wide open blue sky with a few stray puffy white clouds. Wrapped around the back and a bit of the sides of the room are two other blue-sky photo murals which stops just short of the windows. Light gauzy curtains hang over them, presumably all to give the effect of as open a space as possible to stop any potential inklings of panic.

She switches on a cylindrical light which sends a shaped pattern of butterflies in flight around the room. The blankets and pillows are piled high on the bed which takes up one entire side of the room, and on the back of the pocket door, which Nico closes, is a Fable on Fire poster.

I gape, and sputter out a shocked laugh.

“This is—astonishing,” I say. Thomas has a seat on the edge of the bed then flops down, hands laced over his chest. “Those clouds look real. How the hell did you get all this in here?”

Jez grins. “Viv hooked me up with a lot of it. Some of it I brought with me. Ferny and Caylee very kindly helped me get everything up. I think he was of the mind that whatever helped me stay calm was worth the effort.” She laughs. “Within reason, of course. He wasn’t too keen on my request for one of those fancy air filter-fan things that would really help support that being-in-the-clouds sensation.Just open the bleddy window,was his reply, but he laughed and got me that one anyhow.” She gestures to a smaller table-top fan.

I’m beyond impressed, but also, saddened. I knew her condition could be intense. I didn’t realize this level of necessity came with the logistics of traveling on this bus. In a way, it makes me feel the level of disheartened rejection she endured at our hands. This is not an easy life. And yet she’s lived it, she’s found ways to manage.

“How are things going, rock star?” Thomas says softly, still laying down but turning his head to look at Jez, who’s perched on the side of the bed.

She nods and leans back on propped hands behind her. “Up and down, really. It’s always there. That’s why I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your—support. Helping me through, well, all of this.”

She lowers her chin and looks up at me, Holden, and Nico through those long dark lashes. We take this as invitation. I kneel upright by the bed beside her. Nico jumps on the mattress into the corner, and Holden sits beside her. It’s a big bed, but I can’t help but be worried that all five of us in this cramped space is going to trigger her panic.

“Are you going to be okay with this?” I ask. “Honestly.”

“It’s why I wanted to come out here. We’re going to be on this bus a lot. And, well, thanks to Thomas, I’ve been doing more research. This could be a kind of exposure therapy, or like a housewarming.” She shrugs. “I don’t have many options, but I think it could be a helpful experiment.”

“When does the CBT start?” asks Holden.

“I called and got a virtual assessment and first appointment for day after tomorrow. Viv will be here, so she can sit with me.”

Holden nods, a small smile on his lips. “Good.”

“I’m grateful. To you all.” She looks around the room, and I find myself actually nervous. For her, but also for me. I don’t want to make a move that could possibly trigger her panic. “This is my nest. It has to come with us, so it has to be here on the bus for now. If things go, well, wrong, you guys will be here to help. I want to ask you a favor though, before we get started.” She chuckles to herself then looks around at all of us, lifting her chin to the ceiling to take in Nico’s eyes behind her, then she sits back up. “I want to see this through. I need your support and encouragement should I start to panic. I can be talked down. If it goes really badly, I’ll literally saystop. But anything else, please just help me breathe through it all. Distract me.” She smiles wickedly, narrowing her brows.

The way she’s been shifting her hips and in her seat since we came in here, it’s obvious her slick’s made an appearance, but there’s no hiding the scent of her heat. She’s found a way to keep it off her face, but her eyes have the tell-tale sparkle, and her lips seem fuller as though all the blood is rushing to the right places.

“Well, then,” I say, facing her on the edge of the bed. I place my hands on her thighs. “I can smell your heat, Jez.”

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