Page 21 of Give Me What I Want

She came wandering down to the lounge area in one of Cole’s tees and a pair of neon, fluffy socks that came up to her knees. Knees that were still covered in blue plasters. She looked ridiculous, yet perfect. Even with the mess of hair twisted into a half-assed plait, even with the bare face she only ever wore for us.

It wasn’t hard to see why Ronan had wanted to do what he did last night. Our bandmate was beautiful even when she was a mess. But they still shouldn’t have done it.

Fresh sparks of anger heated my entire body and I closed my eyes, swallowing hard and counting down from twenty. When I reached three, I felt calmer, and when I opened my eyes after getting to one, the anger had settled. I just needed to avoid looking at her. At least for the next few hours. Hopefully for no longer than a day.

I couldn’t bear the thought of not looking at her for longer than that. I didn’t want things to be uncomfortable. But that wasn’t something I could control. They had fucked up. I needed to know what it meant, but I wasn’t ready yet.

So I tossed my plate into the sink and slipped into my bunk, grabbing my guitar on my way along with a bottle of water.

I had three big escapes in life. Running, driving, and playing my guitar. And I knew that I’d be clinging to the instrument as though my life depended on it today. Annoyingly, there would be no chance of another run until we arrived in Venice, and sadly I wasn’t allowed to drive our bus.

We set off on the road, and I played for hours, hidden away in my bunk getting lost in the music pouring from the instrument in my hands. Cole came to check on me once. He came baring a pile of snacks, not ever really being sure about how to handle me when I was in one of these moods, but wanting to try to help anyway. He nailed it every time though. He knew it wasn’t just sadness consuming me today, and I wondered if he felt the same way. Was it just me who felt that what our bandmates had done was so wrong?

Beatrix came to find me just after lunchtime, asking if I wanted anything as she slipped a cuppa through a gap in the curtain. I took the mug, but held the curtain firmly closed when she attempted to pull it open, still unable to look at her. She began to complain but quickly came to her senses, stopping mid-sentence with a heavy sigh.

“Are you mad at me, Mav?” she asked through the thick material that sat between us.

I grunted, neither confirming nor denying how I felt in that moment.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, then her shadow disappeared.

I was usually far more upfront with her, telling her exactly how she made me feel on most occasions. If I was angry, or disappointed, I made it clear. But today I had no desire to spell anything out for anyone. I’d let her wonder.

“Bro, can I come in?” Jord asked some time later. I had stopped playing my guitar and had placed it down just outside the bunk. I was attempting to sleep, not caring what time it was, I just didn’t want to go out there. But I had forgotten my headphones and had been sitting, half listening to them all speaking further down the bus. I had managed to zone out from time to time, but the sound of their voices kept carrying down to me, making me want to scream. Everyone was acting as though nothing had happened. Nothing had changed.

I didn’t believe that was the case at all though.

“Sure,” I muttered, pulling back the curtain and attempting to shift closer to the wall to make space for him to lean his elbows on the mattress of my bed.

“We need to talk to them,” he started, flicking his hair from his eyes and fixing me with a serious look. “We need them to know that whatever happened can’t happen again. The dynamic…” He sighed, shaking his head and clenching his jaw. “It’s not going to work in our favour. The fake thing was a good publicity stunt, butthis... Nah. I don’t like it, man. We have to think about the future, and they clearly aren’t doing that.”

I agreed. Nodding to let him see that I felt the same way. I wasn’t going to stand by and let this become the Ro and Bea show. I wasn’t going to become a bystander in my own band as we watched the pair of them fuck and fight until we were no longer a band. We were equals. All of us. There was no favouritism, so this… It wasn’t going to work.

“After dinner,” I whispered, leaning out of my bunk a little to glance down at Ronan standing in the kitchen cooking up something that smelt ridiculously good. I wasn’t an idiot. I’d eat before I stood my ground.

“Perfect. I’m going out for a smoke. Wanna come?” Jord asked, pulling a packet of squashed cigarettes out of his back pocket.

I hadn’t realised that the bus had even stopped, I knew that we hadn’t made it to Venice yet, and we weren’t likely to arrive until tomorrow, so I guessed that someone had needed something from a service station or something.

“Nah,” I refused. I shouldn’t start up that shit, as tempting as it was. Bea had been right to take the cigarette from me back when we were in Bristol. I hadn’t touched another since, but Jord had continued to offer. It was his coping mechanism, but it didn’t need to be mine. I’d keep my addictions to things that wouldn’t slowly kill me.

Ronan announced dinner shortly after, and I reluctantly slipped out of my bunk to join everyone at the small table. Bea squeezed herself into the corner with Cole at her side. I sat down opposite with Jord beside me, and Ronan unfolded another chair from storage to sit at the end of the table. Or the head of the table as he liked to call it. He made the most of it while we were on tour, as back home the head was Bea’s place. She had her own special chair, all ornately carved like a goddamn throne.

“Smells amazing, Ro-bear,” Beatrix said, grinning down at her plate.

I almost threw up on my own plate at the affectionate way she spoke to him. She almost never spoke to him like that. I had grown used to the Ro-bear thing since she had taken to using it to wind him up in public this last fortnight, but we weren’t in public right now, and she sure as shit didn’t sound like she was teasing him.

“Of course it does,” he drawled, leaning back in his chair and watching us as we all started to dig in. He watched for a few moments, drinking in our groans of pleasure as we slurped down the incredible pasta dish he had made. I tried to hide my enjoyment, but I just couldn’t. It tasted fucking amazing.

Prick.

“I’m not washing up tonight,” he said halfway through the meal, breaking the almost silence that had fallen on the table. I had kept my head down, not wanting to accidentally meet anyone’s eye, but I couldn’t ignore him now.

“You never do,” I grumbled.

“Neither do you,” he said and I raised my head, meeting his cold gaze.

“I do plenty of other shit around here,” I started, then swallowed down a long piece of spaghetti as I held his gaze and wondered if he’d start a real fight with me over washing up. I’d happily take it, and give back far more than he could probably handle.

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