Page 64 of Bulletproof
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Albuquerque brought the tourjust over a week shy of coming to an end. It had been a phenomenal year, with a kick-ass tour and another platinum album. For Derek, none of it compared to meeting Travis. For the first time since he was a teenager, he had a boyfriend. As corny as it sounded, he was slaphappy, staggering drunk on the joy of being a couple. He leaned back on the sofa, laced his fingers behind his head, and clunkedhis boots on the table. Oblivious to the pre-show festivities taking place around him, thoughts about spending more time with Travis once the tour was over filled his head. No longer would they be pulled in opposite directions by their respective commitments on a daily basis, and they’d be able to spend the days and nights together doing things as a duo.
Derek’s phone buzzed, andhis heart jumped when he saw Travis’ name on the display screen. “I was just think—”
“There’s something wrong with your boy.”
The blood drained from Derek’s face the moment he heard Ricky’s voice on Travis’ phone. “What’s wrong? Where is he?” Derek spun around, looking for a quiet corner where he could hear Ricky better.
“In our dressing room locked in thebathroom. He’s having some kind of meltdown. I’ve never seen him like this before.”
Without wasting time with a reply, Derek headed for the door. “Felix! Come with me! It’s Travis!”
The band’s manager, always annoyed at the smallest amount of bullshit that took up his time, paled. Worry and concern replaced what should have been an eye roll and a huff. Felix followedDerek down the long corridor, strewn with people in the middle of preshow production. Derek dodged heavy equipment and stagehands as he raced to Reckless’ dressing room, leaving Felix behind. He burst into the room and found Ricky, Mark, and Troy all standing in front of the bathroom door. They all turned toward Derek, mouths and eyes wide with worry.
“Sorry to bother you,” Rickyapologized, “but you said to call you first if something happened.”
“What the fuck happened? Is he alright?” Derek cautiously approached the bathroom door, unsure what triggered Travis’ anxiety, and wondering if another reaction to the medication prompted an incident far worse than the last one.
“We were just sitting around—”
“Shh.” Derek heard somethingfrom the bathroom and put his ear to the door. Low mewling sounds and gasping indicated Travis was sobbing, and although it almost knocked Derek to his knees, relief flooded him that Travis was OK. “Trav. It’s me.”
“Please go away,” Travis mumbled through the door.
“I’m not going anywhere. Open the door.”
No response.
Derek pinned Ricky, Troy,and Mark with a deadly stare, sure one of them had done something to elicit Travis’ anxiety attack. “Does someone want to tell me what the fuck happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Mark said.
“Don’t give me that bullshit.”
Defeated, Ricky sighed. “We were talking about the show and the next tour. I was asking him how the lyrics were coming on the new songs he’ssupposed to be working on. I asked him when he thought he’d have something we could hear.” Ricky paced in front of the dresser. “He got agitated. And then he looked like he couldn’t breathe. And he started sweating.”
“Yeah, man,” Troy agreed. “His face turned bright red and his eyes got real wide. He tried to run out the door, but Mark stopped him.”
“Stopped him?” Derektook a step closer to Mark, anger seething in his belly at the thought of Mark putting his hands on Travis. “What’d you fucking do to him?”
“I didn’t touch him.” Mark backed up, holding his hands out in front of him to stop Derek from approaching. “I swear. I only blocked the door. We gotta be on stage soon. I didn’t want him to disappear.”
“He’s telling the truth.” Rickyconfirmed Mark’s statement, and explained further. “When Travis realized he couldn’t leave, he freaked out. He started to shake and pace around the room. Then he locked himself in the bathroom. You gotta do something. If he doesn’t come out, we’re gonna have to call our tour manager.”
A loud knock on the door made everyone turn. “Shit. That’s probably him now. Sorry, Travis.” Rickyspoke toward the bathroom door. “We got no choice.”
Felix burst into the room as soon as Ricky opened the door. “What’s going on?” Felix demanded.
Derek wanted to handle the situation himself, afraid too many people in the room would only amplify Travis’ anxiety, which needed to be dialed down. “Travis had some kind of panic attack and locked himself in the bathroom.But, I’m gonna take care of it.”
“Are you sure?” Felix asked. “Do you need me to do something?”
“No. I got this. He’s gonna open the door.” Derek put his hand against the hardwood, hoping to feel Travis’ energy through it. “Hey, Trav. Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I’m not judging you. No one is. Just let me in. Open the door.”
Dereklistened for an answer, but only heard heavy breathing and a few sniffles. He knew all he needed to do was talk to Travis, face to face, and he could ease the guy through whatever crisis he was going through. “Come on, Trav. I’m not going away. Open the door. Don’t make me break it down.” No answer, so he tried a playful approach. “I don’t want to beg,” he said with a smile, “but I will if I haveto.” Derek waited. He didn’t know what the fuck to do. He didn’t want to kick the door in, but he would. The aggressive move might set Travis off, though. He placed his hand on the door, the only thing preventing him from taking his lover into his arms and soothing the hysteria.
The lock on the door clicked.
