Page 46 of Knot Their Opening Act

Beingalmoston a TV show, playing at the festival, and before that, clubs, pubs, and the occasional beach festival or opening slot gave me a thicker skin for a sliver of limelight. And social media’s a different animal. But this? This has never happened to me. And it was so suffocating. They couldn’t have triggered my claustrophobia more effectively if they’d planned it.

Once the bus hauls away from the curb, I stare out the tinted windows at the mass of interviewers and busybodies pooling onto the street.

I stand there, holding on to an entertainment center just inside the bus door watching the hotel disappear, unable to form any kind of response to Caylee’sAre you okay? Jez, c’mon, let’s go find your bed.

That’s when I look at her as if I haven’t seen her in days, and then look over her shoulder. All four Fable members are sitting at a booth, two on each side, hands clasped in front of them, coffees and teas all around, and all staring at me.

* * *

“I’ve been puking my guts out for two days straight, so the guys insisted I came to the hospital last night. And I’ll probably be here another few days, it sounds like,” Viv is saying. The phone is smashed to my ear and I’m sitting cross-legged in the middle of the surprisingly Queen-sized bed at the back of the bus.

Ash put me up in the only bedroom, which actually a closing door. I say “door” when it’s really more like a sheet of paper with some hinges, another pocket door, but it’s more privacy than I could’ve hoped for. I still have to share everything else with Fable, but I’m relieved to have a space to myself. Caylee is up front with the driver just down to Leeds, then tomorrow she’ll be riding in a mini-bus with other crew.

Ash apparently asked Caylee to ride along with me on the first stint, and she completely understood.

He thought it would make you more comfortable, not being alone with a bunch of Alpha dudes. Well, Fable, in particular.

The driver’s a woman called Teresa, and I wouldn’t fucking mess with her. She looks like she could arm wrestle a crocodile and a python at the same time, so I can easily picture her pulling this thing over and raising hell if she needed to.

I do feel better with Caylee riding up front, and I’m sure Kai won’t start anything because the second he does, Ash will know about it.

Well, that’s the theory. I don’t plan to go running to Ash like he’s my damn dad. But that threat looms and he knows it.

“I wish I could do something to help,” I tell Viv. “It’s not fair that I get to be their auntie but I can’t transfer your sickness to me for a few days here and there. If I could take it for a week, you know I would.”

Viv laughs but it’s the laugh of the extremely weak and tired. “Girl, you’ve got a tour to do. And it’s the absolute last thing I’d wish on you. Don’t worry, I’ll rope you into plenty of fun-rock-star-auntie duties when the time is right.” She pauses for a minute, barely finishing the last word. Then I tear the phone away from my ear as she heaves into a bucket.

“Oh lord, Viv.” I wince.

“Bleh, sorry,” she comes back, as if this happens every ten minutes. Which I’m starting to think it probably does. I can hear at least one of her pack in the background speaking. “No,” she says to them. “Babe, it’s in the other bag. And my charger is, too.”

I glance up at my closed door. I cannot imagine being at the stage of life my best friend’s at. Her career is on hold but she has one, and the promise of much more to come. She has a family. A growing one, at that. Obviously pack-life and motherhood isn’t for everyone. Nowhere is it written that that’s theonlylife we should have.

But sometimes I think, I know, deep down, it’s still what I would like. Despite the things I’ve been through.

Just not now. I can live vicariously through her joy, and her sickness. Just can’t take either on and that’s how life goes.

“How’re you doing on the bus?” she asks. I know this is the part she was worried about most. And ironically, it’s been fine. I tell her so, and about the crowd of journalists and busybodies at the hotel.

“That probably helped your transition onto the bus. And you’ve got your own room, so that helps. Oh, shit! Reminds me. Did you get the stuff I had sent to your hotel? I meant to check with them before you left!”

“Yes, thank you for everything! I’m going to start decorating as soon as I get the energy.”

“It should help with the bus, as much as anything can. Just for the love of God, don’t miss any anxiety meds, okay? Are you caught up on that prescription?”

“Yes,” I say confidently.

“Well, I think you know what you need to do about Mr Hartley’s comment, right?” she asks.

“Tell him to stick it up his arse and pull it out his left nostril?”

Vivtsks.“Upload a video to your socials. Call him out. Be your honest self and just say, look, I heard what everyone else did in real time and if something was insinuated, let me make it clear: we’re not an item, never have been. It’s just playful tour mates’ ribbing on each other’s fans. But sometimes playfulness can turn sour, and I want to state that I hopeallthe fans that take time out and spend money to come to our tour in their free time come away feeling happier than they felt when they entered the venue.”

“I should be writing this down,” I quip.

“Do it. I want to see it on your account before tonight’s gig.”

“Aye, aye, captain. And thank you. I considered doing a live but honestly don’t feel strong enough to come up with spontaneous replies to any comments about Kai or Fable.” I let out a sigh. “And I sure as hell don’t want to do it on the bus with them on the other side of that utterly non-existent door,” I whisper into the phone. “I have alotto tell you.”

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