Page 71 of Bulletproof
“Fuck you. We have a month before we have to get into the studio. I got an outline I’m working with. Everything is gonna be done on schedule. Give me some fucking slack.” Resentment left a bitterness in Travis’ throat that made him queasy. He needed to get thehell out of there before the situation escalated, so he grabbed his stuff and fled to the tour bus.
Travis took the quickest shower possible in order to avoid his bandmates, in case they returned to the tour bus. He’d be damned before he sat here with them as if nothing had happened. He dressedand headed straight to Derek’s dressing room to wait for his lover. Worried that he’d run into his bandmates, he didn’t dare wait by the side of the stage. He checked the time. Bulletproof had another hour left to their set. As Travis waited, he reflected on the tour and the night’s events. He went into the oversized bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror, trying to see what everyone else sawwhen they looked at him. He wondered if they were able to perceive the turmoil and tension that drove him mad, or if he actually pulled off the persona of a rock star living the dream. As far as he could tell, a regular dude stared back at him. He looked closer, peering into his eyes, but saw nothing unordinary.
The bottle of pills pressed against his hip and he took them from hispocket. He dumped the contents into his hand and juggled the pills in his palm. Holding one of the tiny oblong pills up to the light, he gazed at it, then back at the pile pooling in his palm. He turned on the faucet, flipped his hand over, slowly letting the pills fall into the sink, and watched the water wash them down the drain and out of his life. He knew he should have never taken them. Theyweren’t the answer, but he had no idea what was. He needed to work out his shit without the pills and without Derek holding his hand every fucking second. He needed to take control of his life. On his own.
Noise from the corridor filled the dressing room as the door opened and then quickly closed. Derek raced to the couch, grabbed his phone and tapped onto the screen, unaware thatTravis was watching from the archway to the bathroom. “Hey.”
“Trav! I was just trying to call you. Your dressing room is empty. I didn’t know where you were or what happened to you after your set. You disappeared.” Derek, covered with a thin sheen of perspiration from his performance and glowing like a bodybuilder rubbed down with oil, rushed toward Travis and wrapped his arms aroundhim.
The heavy scent of masculinity filled Travis’ nostrils with an erotic aroma. He clung to the man that brought him so much relief and happiness. Derek was the calming presence in his life, the stability that he longed for. “I’m fine.” His voice wavered slightly. “Thank you for always being there for me when I need you. Honestly, you always know exactly what to say. You mean moreto me than anybody ever has. And you’ve helped me tremendously in my life.”
Derek searched Travis’ eyes closely. “Why do you look so sad?”
“Because I can’t offer you the same. And I want to be a better person. I want to be whole. And I don’t want to rely on those fucking pills anymore. I washed them down the sink.”
“You barely took them, Travis. You act likeyou’re addicted or something.”
“I know I’m not addicted. But I took them tonight, and look what happened. I fucked up on stage.”
“What’s the big deal? The audience laughed and you carried on like nothing happened. You think you’re the first singer to get sick on stage? It happens all the time. Fergie pissed herself. Brandon shit his pants. I puked once. It—”
“Brandon shit his pants?” Travis let out a small unexpected laugh.
“Oh.” Derek stared at him, blankly, while his mouth remained in the shape of a tiny circle. “I’m not supposed to talk about that. We all promised Brandon we’d never mention it again.”
“Too late.”
Derek paused, a smile now on his face. “I’ll give you the short version. But don’t you daretell him I told you.” He fidgeted as he tried to keep a straight face, but a laugh bubbled from his throat before he could continue. “One time, before the show, Bran ate a giant bean burrito.” Derek held his hands about a foot apart so Travis could appreciate the size of the thing. “When he let out one of his signature screams on stage, he gave the fans more than they bargained for. No control.”Derek wrapped his arms around his waist as he bellowed with laughter. “We didn’t know what happened until the smell hit us. It cleared the stage. Felix almost had a heart attack when we all ran off, until he caught a whiff of Brandon.”
The levity was contagious, and Travis laughed along with Derek as he realized his short departure from the stage wasn’t so horrific after all. “Whathappened?”
“The crew had to spray the stage with air freshener before we’d go back out there, and Bran needed to clean up and change his pants.”
A hard knock on the door abruptly halted their laughter.
“The bus is leaving, Derek.” Felix’s impatient voice came from the corridor. “Are you going to join us or find your own way back to Los Angeles?”
“I’ll be right there.”
“If you’re not outside in ten minutes, we’re leaving.”
“Fucking Felix,” Derek muttered under his breath, then placed his hands on Travis’ shoulders. “Ride home with us. I know you’ve been trying to patch things up with your bandmates, but it’s our last ride.”
Travis loved the idea of ending the tour with Derek and Bulletproof, anddreaded the idea of being stuck on the bus with his bandmates after everything that had been said. “That’d be really cool.”
With Derek at his side, Travis left the building with a weightless energy. He let go of the bullshit when the door to the arena slammed behind him and looked forward to the days ahead, whatever they held.
When they got to the parking lot, Travissaw his bandmates in front of Reckless’ tour bus and wondered if they were waiting for him. He squeezed Derek’s hand. “Give me a sec.” Ignoring his bandmates, he jumped up the two steps into Reckless’ tour bus as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The happy smile on his face matched the peace in his heart, so different from the emotions tearing him up the last time he saw the members of his band. Hegrabbed his two duffle bags, which contained his clothing for the duration of the tour. Due to the limited space the bus offered, he had never unpacked, so everything was still stuffed inside and ready to go. He slung a duffle over each shoulder and left. “See you at home,” he said as he walked past Ricky, Mark, and Troy, who were still milling around outside. “I’m catching a ride with Derek.”
“Don’t disappear,” Ricky said.
“I won’t,” Travis said over his shoulder, never slowing his stride. “I’ll have the rest of the lyrics done in two weeks.”
