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Talking.

Light.

Someone shaking her shoulder.

"Ren?" someone said. "Ren. Aron. Wake up."

"Mmph," she said, not coherent enough to say anything else.

She cracked an eye open and was almost almost blinded by sunlight streaming in from the window on the opposite wall.

James was standing in front of her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on the beam supporting her mattress. "Come on," he said.

"What?" she said.

"We're at the venue," he said.

"Oh." She grimaced and yawned as she rubbed sleep out of her eyes. James stepped aside as she rolled out of her bunk. "How long until sound check?"

"A couple of hours. Ivy's outside, waiting for you."

"Tell her to give me ten minutes." Aronnax shoved her hair out of her face and headed for the bathroom.

"Gotcha." James nodded and stepped towards the door. He was almost on the steps before he turned around. "Hey."

She was already in the bathroom, and she stopped before she closed the door and leaned out. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Sure." She shrugged a little. "Why?"

"You slept most of the day."

She smiled. "I'm fine, Jay."

"Okay." He smiled back at her and stepped outside.

Aronnax closed the bathroom door and locked it. She flipped the light switch on and studied herself in the mirror.

The dim fluorescent light made her look unusually sickly and pale, and cast shadows under her eyes.

She yawned and stretched her arms over her head before running her fingers through her long, tangled dark hair, trying to make it look vaguely orderly. She ran her fingers under her eyelids to remove any smudged eyeliner and washed her hands.

I don't want to go out there.

No, she didn't think she was ready to face the world, not today. She was too tired. She wanted to be home. She didn't want to be here.

She didn't want to be with these people.

Her thoughts wandered to Jason. The Cincinnati show was a week and a half away, and the Chicago one was even further. She honestly didn't know why she cared. It sure as hell wasn't like he did.

She jumped when a harsh ringing sound erupted, and she quickly found the source to be a cell phone stuck behind the water faucet.

The display only showed a number, and she wasn't sure whose phone this was. It wasn't James's, she knew that much, but it was probably either Ryan's or Dean's, their bus driver's.

Or Cynthia's, maybe. No, Cynthia had an iPhone. This was a flip phone.

"Hello," she said, flipping it open. The phone kept ringing. She pressed send. "Hello," she said again.

"Hello?" said a high-pitched female voice. "Who is this?"

Aronnax didn't want to identify herself. "Who is this?"

"Um, it's Kelsey. Is Dean there?"

"Oh." Aronnax relaxed. This was Dean's phone, then. "Um. I don't know. I don't know where he is right now."

Kelsey sounded disappointed. "Oh. Well, okay. Who are you?"

"Um." Aronnax didn't want to risk telling this girl her name and then finding out the girl was a fan, or something. It didn't really seem like she had much of a choice, though. "Aronnax."

"Anthrax? That's a weird name."

"No, not anthrax — it's — never mind. Look, I'll have him call you back, okay?"

"Uh, sure." Kelsey hung up.

Aronnax flipped the phone shut, somewhat frustrated. How was she supposed to get ahold of Dean? She rarely ever saw him. He always disappeared as soon as the bus was parked, and then reappeared out of nowhere as soon as it was time to leave.

And anthrax? Seriously. How bad was that girl's hearing, anyway?

Then she had to laugh. Anthrax. That was an all-time first.

She stuffed the phone in her back pocket and left the bathroom.