Conversations at 2 am?
The orange sun began to disappear below the horizon, giving way to a sky of pinks, reds, and purples. Soon the night would envelope what was left of my first day as a merch whore. With Ty's guidance and assistance, I packed away our little trove of Fall Out Boy gold.
"Hey. You guys need any help?" I looked up to see Patrick standing in front of me, hands in his jean pockets and a small grin upon his full lips.
"Sure. Just grab a few boxes and follow me to the merch van." Obediently, he picked up some merchandise and nipped at my heels as we zigzagged through the dwindling crowd.
"So how was your first day?" He asked as we placed the boxes into the vehicle that would ship them to the next stop in the morning. With that done, we began to head back to our booth.
"It was alright. Kind of hectic. How was your set?" A beaming smile brightened his features.
"Amazing. The crowd was just awesome." I nodded, letting his infectious smile swarm my face as well.
Once we made it back to the booth, I saw the boy from orientation in the distance. He was heading my way with another guy that I had never seen before. He grinned and waved in the same shy manner he used before.
"Who the fuck is that?" Dirty asked, clearly exasperated. I still didn't have an answer for him.
"I don't know." I said, rolling my eyes.
"He better knock it off. That's my man's kool-aid he's waving to." Wait...what!?!
"Kool-aid? Whose kool-aid? What the fuck are you talking about?" His dark eyes quickly averted away from mine.
"Nothing. Forget I said anything." And with that, he picked up a few remaining boxes before heading to the merch van. I looked over at Patrick, who just shrugged.
The ceiling stared down at me, daring me to fall asleep. Unfortunately, it wasn't happening. I swung my legs over the side of my bunk and slid down to the floor without a sound. All I could hear was steady breathing and the occasional snores. I tip toed to the lounge, carefully trying not to wake up any of my bus mates. Once I was in the clear, I took my cell phone from my pants pocket and sifted through the numbers. Upon finding whom I wanted, I pressed her name.
"Hey Bridget." I answered as I plopped down on the couch.
"Can't sleep?" I shook my head.
"You're so lucky you get to stay in a tour bus and not some rank van with a bunch of dirty merch boys."
"Yeah. The pros of sharing the same gene pool as a band member. Besides, you can't complain. I invited you to come along." She sighed.
"True, but just the thought of being in close quarters with Wentz makes suicide sound like a good idea."
"You really seem to hate him." She chuckled.
"OK, you really hate him. Why?"
"What do you mean, 'why?' You hate him too."
"Well, you show me yours and I'll show you mine."
"I like where this is going." I looked over to see a pajama clad Patrick wearing a devious grin. I patted the soft material of the couch, gesturing for the male to join me. Without hesitation, he sat down next to me and clicked on the small TV that was hanging from the ceiling.
"Who's that in the background?" I smiled.
"Oh. Tell him I said hi."
"Bridge says hi." He waved stupidly.
"Now, on with the gossip. Spill." I turned my back toward my comrade and leaned against him.
"Fine, fine, fine. But you cannot repeat this to anyone." I nodded.
"Patrick, ear muffs." He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow at me.
"Yes, ear muffs." He sighed and covered his ears with the palms of his hands.
"Back when we first met, I actually..."She sighed and paused.
"It's OK. Just take your time." I coaxed in a soothing, low voice. She chuckled quietly.
"Shut up. Back when I first met him, I may have had a small, insignificant, childish, stupid, tiny, little...I guess crush would be the word." I gasped and placed my free hand over my mouth.
"And now you have a petition for his execution pending. Interesting turn of events, my dear Bridget."
"Yes, quite interesting, in fact. Now, at the time, I knew he had a girlfriend. Every night, he called her. But that didn't stop him from propositioning me." Girlfriend? That mother fucker. I didn't think it was possible for him to be an asshole of even bigger proportions. My mouth just hung open.
"Propositioning you?" Through my dry mouth, I managed to choke out the words.
"Yeah. He wanted to sleep with me. My first rule of tour is never fuck anyone. Ever. And I'd never have sex with a guy who was clearly taken."
"Do...do you think he did that to other girls?" She laughed as if it were obvious.
"Of course he did. He was always cheating on that poor girl. I can't stand dudes like that. Now, how about you? Why do you hate Pete?" I swallowed hard, desperately trying not to let this bother me.
"I was that poor girl."
"Oh. My. God. Lola, I'm sorry. I swear I didn't know." I shook my head.
"It's alright. Really. I'm completely over him." Liar.
"I'll kick the shit out of him. How does that sound?" I grinned. It sounded like heaven.
"I don't know. Listen, I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you later."
"You're not mad at me, are you?" I shook my head. For some reason, I just didn't feel like talking anymore. Actually, I knew the reason. And that reason just might never father children after I was through with him.
"No. Not at all. Just leave it alone. I'll deal with him." She sighed.
"But I wanna lower his sperm count." The girl whined like a child, making me smile.
"Night, Lola." I closed my phone cover and tossed it on a nearby table.
"Everything alright?" Patrick asked, nudging the shoulder I was resting on.
"Yeah. But Pete's not going to be." He sighed.
"What did he do now?" I chewed on my bottom lip, debating whether I should pressed the issue.
"If I ask you something, will you be honest with me?"
"That's a loaded question, if I've ever heard one before." I smacked his arm lightly.
"OK, you can be honest or you can lie. I'll believe you either way." He nodded.
"Way to guilt me into being honest." I meekly smiled.
"Did Pete ever cheat on me when you guys were on tour?" He remained quiet for a moment, his face becoming very serious.
"Not that I knew of." I frowned.
"If you knew, would you tell me?" He shook his head.
"Probably not." He was no help at all.
"Men. Always sticking together." My confidant scoffed.
"And women don't? I see you, going to the bathroom in gaggles. Why? What for? What are you doing in there?" I laughed.
"We talk about how stupid men are." He rolled his green eyes*
"Oh yeah? Well, we pee and leave. Pee and leave. That's it. No talking. At all."
"No talking?" He shook his head.
"I'm not gay, Lola." I sighed and rolled my eyes. Men.
*Are they green? Well, they are now. This is fiction, people.