Blissful Tragedy

by Amy L. Gale

  His face flushes and he runs his tongue along his lips. “No harm in being a few minutes late.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.” I kiss him softly on the cheek.

  He exhales deeply.

  We head through the corridor to an office-like area. The light grey walls boast posters of the headliners who’ve performed throughout the year. Van sets me down on one of the three black leather couches. Wow, this room is massive. We venture toward the full bar in the back of the room, stocked with drinks, pretzels and nuts.

  Might as well have a few beverages while waiting for instructions. We fill our glasses and plop onto the cool leather. The guys are extremely quiet. Van is rubbing the back of his neck and Marcus is scraping his hand through his hair. Tyler bites his lip as he stretches. Even Chaz is silent, which is really scary. Before long, Vengeful Wrath joins us in the room.

  The foursome sport leather pants, black T-shirts, and motorcycle boots. I raise my eyes, quickly perusing the multitude of tattoos and array of scantily clad women. The singer, James, approaches us.

  “Hey guys, good to meet you. Feel free to party with us before you go on and afterwards if you’re game.”

  “Thanks man,” Marcus replies.

  The group takes over two tables and lets their entourage use their laps as chairs. James unzips a duffel bag, placing all sorts of objects on the table. My eyes widen and my heart starts to race as I gaze at the vials of white powder, baggies of yellowish powder, needles, and joints. I’ve never been around drugs other than pot. These guys aren’t screwing around. Their stash covers just about everything imaginable. I swallow hard and lean back. No way in hell will I be partying with them.

  Van looks over at the table and grimaces. “No one moves from this couch. Junkies are unpredictable.” He puts his arm around me, shielding me from any threat of imminent danger.

  Jenna slides over to us. “Guys, I feel like I’m in the middle of a really bad after school special.”

  “We’re here to open for their band, not become friends. We’ll cut out after our set,” Marcus replies, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

  A putrid odor flows through the air as the guitar player heats up some powder in a spoon, draws it up into a syringe, and injects it into his arm.

  Why can’t I look away?

  He lets his head fall backwards, closes his eyes, and inhales deeply. My stomach churns. How can someone who’s living the dream just throw their life away?

  A skinny blond leans over the table, holds back her hair and snorts lines of the white powder with a rolled up dollar bill. More of them follow suit. Laughing and giggling like drunken sorority girls, they continue to take turns until the powder is gone. How can they be oblivious to the realization that they’re practically killing themselves? My chest tightens and my posture becomes stiff. Someone needs to slap some sense into them.

  Marcus grabs us a few more beers. No way am I moving from our area. I want to be far away from all the action. I take a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent I grew accustomed to throughout college. I glance around the room and spot Chaz smoking weed with his new drumming friend. They both air drum with their sticks.

  “If he attempts to try anything more than pot, I’m definitely stopping him.” I turn to Van, clenching my jaw.

  “He won’t. None of us are into the drug scene. It’s the downfall of most bands. We’re all about the music, not that bullshit.”

  Thank God Van feels as strongly as I do about steering clear of drugs. Musicians tend to get stereotyped into that kind of behavior and I won’t be with a junkie. What a complete waste of talent. There’s so much excitement traveling on a tour bus with a band. What about the natural high from performing? Why would drugs need to be added to the mix?

  Is time moving backward? An eternity can’t take this long. I glance up at the clock on the wall. Finally, it’s 7 o’clock and time for the guys to hit the stage. My insides start to quiver. I jump off the couch and grip Van’s hand, holding him close and ensuring my pass is easily visible. Now is not the time to get lost.

  I walk up to the stage and gaze out at the vast sea of people. There are so many faces that I’m starting to get stage fright. Loud cheers emerge as the guys take their places on stage and began to play. It’s instantly clear that the size of the crowd has no effect on their ability to perform. A perfect set! The crowd goes wild, quickly becoming fans. Van resembles a golden god as the bright lights illuminate his body. I guess I’ll always be a star struck fan, no matter how many times I watch him sing. How did I manage to make this gorgeous, talented rock god mine?

  Chaos reigns as the unruly crowd waits for Vengeful Wrath to grace the stage. I twirl my fingers around my hair and focus on their ornery fans. Loud screams echo through the packed area and the mass of people in the first few rows step aside, parting the angry mob like the red sea. An uncontrollable mosh pit forms in front of the stage. Violently slamming into another person is a form of dancing? It’s very barbaric. Ah, that’s why Van and Marcus are so worried about us.

  Van clutches my hand tightly as we watch Vengeful Wrath from the side of the stage. I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to get as close to him as possible. His damp hair tickles my face as I press myself against his hot, sweaty body. Bitching hour better be quick.

  Despite the many substances in their bodies, Vengeful Wrath plays an astonishing set. How impressive would they be if they were clean?

  It’s that special time, when Devil’s Garden meets the fans with backstage passes. The drunken, drug fest doesn’t start for a few more hours, after Vengeful Wrath returns from the stage. Elbows smack into my sides, and hair flies in my face as Jenna and I trudge through the women-filled hallways, getting pushed the entire way to the meeting room. Only those with backstage passes make it through security. We sit at the bar, munching on pretzels and nuts while our guys greet the fans. Wow, so many more people than usual. We kick off our shoes, settle in, and grab a few beers.

  “What the hell, we may as well make ourselves comfortable. These women seem worse than usual. I can’t stand them hanging all over Marcus. If I don’t turn my chair away I’m going to punch one of them.”

  “I’m with you. I think Van may have to shower before he touches me. I don’t want some slutty groupie disease.”

  Jenna and I laugh. Aren’t smiles known to hide frustration? Since the guys don’t want us to go anywhere without them we have to make the best of the situation.

  “That’s fucking gross!” Chaz screams.

  A drugged-out girl stumbles, wiping her face. She heaves, her whole body in a spasm as she spews out the putrid contents of her stomach all over Chaz’s shirt and Van’s jeans. Chaz immediately takes off his shirt and throws it in a trash can. He lifts his chin and stands with his shoulders back. Removing his shirt attracts double the women. Van better not plan on throwing his jeans in the trash or he’ll be facing a fate worse than death, a pissed off girlfriend.

  He walks toward us, grimacing and slightly gagging. “I’ve got to go back to the bus and change. I can’t sit here with puke on my jeans, plus I reek.” He swallows and jerks his head back, his face distorts. “Hope I don’t hurl on the way. I’ll be back.”

  About ten minutes pass, Marcus comes over. “Hey girls, we’re just about done here. Tyler and Chaz already left with two chicks so let’s meet up with Van on the bus and go to our hotel.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all night. This place is like a skank-a-palooza.” Jenna looks around the room once more and shakes her head.

  I carry my heels and march across the mammoth parking lot. God knows what I’m stepping on, but my feet had enough of these shoes. The air is stagnant, not even the hint of a breeze. I take a deep breath and carry on. Hey, looks like the party never stops. Droves of fans sit on their cars, drinking and smoking, swaying to the music from the radio. Reaching the bus is like walking to Mars. Why does it have to be so far away? Strange, we didn’t pass Van on the way to the bus.
He should’ve changed and been on his way back by now, especially after his lectures to stay close all night. He was pretty grossed out, maybe he needed a shower.

  We’re back at the bus and there’s still no sign of Van. Emptiness fills the pit of my stomach. Where is he?

  “Lexie, I think you should go first. I don’t want to walk in on him if he’s not decent,” Jenna suggests. “He’s not going to be expecting us.”

  Yeah, she’s probably right. I open the bus doors and head up the steps.

  “Hey Van, we’re back! Where are you?” I yell through the bus.

  I stop dead in my tracks as all the blood in my body rushes to my face. I gasp, releasing the grip on my shoes and cover my mouth. They bang against the steel floor as I take a step back. My trembling hands drop and ball into tight fists. My heart bangs against my chest, pounding in my ears. Unbelievable! Van is on the couch of the bus with a blond girl straddling him.

  I’m in the middle of a nightmare. Déjà vu overcomes me. Why am I in the same position I was in a few months ago?

  Van quickly throws the girl off of him and walks toward me, his face white and pallid.

  Tears fill my eyes and stream down my face. My heart is racing. A sour tang consumes my mouth as my stomach heaves. Spots are flashing in front of my eyes and my lungs constrict. My teeth clench as I quickly and forcefully inhale.

  The blond girl, acting as if I’m invisible, grabs for Van. He pushes her away and stares at my face, frozen. He lifts his hands in the air and shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Clawing at his cheeks, he drags his fingers down his face.

  Adrenaline surges through my body. I lunge at the blond, tackling her through the aisle. She screams, begging me stop as she frantically grabs at my hair. My body is numb. I push her on the couch and hover over her body, punching her in the eye, then the mouth. With my grip firmly on her straggly hair, I drag her through the hallway of the bus. When I reach the door I kick her, sending her flying down the steps. I shake uncontrollably as an adrenaline rush fills my veins.

  Jenna and Marcus stare at me with open mouths as I follow the girl through the bus doors and straddle her, punching her face. Marcus pulls me off of her while I’m frantically swinging my fists in the air. When the blonde is finally able to focus, she runs toward the arena, away from me.

  “What happened?” Marcus asks as he holds my arms, restraining me.

  I pull myself away from him as Van appears in front of me.

  “It wasn’t what it looked like.” Van takes a deep breath and gazes at me with a pained stare.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I just walked in on you with some whore on top of you. The picture was clear. No need to spell it out for me.”

  Jenna gasps, holding her hands to her face.

  “It’s not what you think.” Van sighs and exhales loudly. “This is just a misunderstanding.” He lowers his head toward the ground and rubs the back of his neck, slowly shaking his head.

  “Are you serious? Did you just call this a misunderstanding?” I grind my teeth and clench my jaw.

  “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have used those words. Can--”

  Smack! I cut him off mid-sentence with a slap across the face. I jerk my head back. Oh my God, did I just hit him? I rub my hand over my forehead and let out a deep sigh as the tears continue to fall.

  He stands still, his hands at his side. “Can I please tell you what happened? I know what it looked like but I can explain.”

  “A picture says a thousand words, Van. I just can’t do this right now. I have to get away. I should have known this relationship would be over before it began. I just want to go home. I can’t handle any more devastation.”

  “No!” His lips tremble as beads of sweat begin to form. “Please don’t leave.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be lonely for long. There are a million women who’ll be lined up to be with you.”

  “There’s only one you and I don’t want anyone else.” He takes a step forward and reaches for me, but I turn away. “Please, just listen to me. I didn’t do anything, I swear. I started washing my jeans off in the sink, and then got changed. This girl must have snuck onto the bus earlier and hid in the closet. She jumped out and knocked me on the couch. That’s when you walked in. I swear, that’s the truth.” Van paces frantically, running his hands through his hair.

  I start walking away; I need some time to process. My face is on fire, like molten lava is flowing through my veins. My heartbeat slows, but there’s a painful tightness that remains in my throat. I’m not even twenty feet away and Van is standing in front of me. I stop and glare at his face. Tears stream uncontrollably over my cheeks as my eyes lock with his. Even if he is telling the truth, things like this are bound to happen again, in another town, with another girl. How can I handle the constant worrying about other women? The tears continue to fall.

  Van sighs, walks toward me, and puts his arms around me. I push him away, banging my hands against his chest. He picks me up over his shoulder and walks back onto the bus.

  “Put me down!” I’m slamming my fists into his back.

  He gently lowers me to the couch and kneels in front of me, placing his hands on my legs. He rests his head against my stomach and moves his hands to my waist, pulling me close. I sit straight and rigid, trying to suppress my need to hold him tight.

  “I always tell you guys to lock the fucking door of the bus! See what happens?” Jenna yells at Marcus loud enough for us to hear her through the window.

  Van sighs and looks up at me. He swallows hard. “Please, talk to me. The only thing I did wrong was forget to lock the door. Believe me I’ll never do that again.” He lays his head in my lap and grabs my waist, pulling me close.

  This is really happening? More tears fall as I pull Van’s chin up to look at me. “Van, I need some time. I’m going for a walk.”

  “No! Please, don’t leave. I’ll go, you can stay here. I’ll wait for you outside.” He wipes away my tears, kisses my cheek, and leaves the bus.

  I am in love with him. That’s why this is so hard. I grab my cell phone and start texting.

  CHAPTER 12—CONFESSIONS

  I pull the thin curtain aside and gaze out the window at Van. He lowers his head and wraps his arms around his knees as he sits on the hard blacktop. His hair falls forward, covering my view of his face. How am I going to muster up enough energy to talk to him? I’m out of breath, drained from the night’s events.

  Ouch. A sharp pain radiates through my hand, it’s throbbing and twice its normal size. I actually got into a fist fight! Never thought I had it in me. Then again, my feelings for Van are strong, so strong they make me act crazy.

  His story is most likely the truth. Why would you betray someone you care enough about to invite on tour with you? How do I handle this situation? I guess I have to weigh my options. Should I move on to protect myself from getting hurt again? Maybe I should be alone for a while; after all, I did start dating Van right after Jesse and I broke up. Should I give Van another chance since he most likely wasn’t doing anything wrong? I take a deep breath, close my eyes and rub my temples. I need to talk to a girlfriend, someone who’ll understand. My phone chimes.

  Ok, I’m on my way

  Jenna approaches Van on her way to the bus. He raises his head to look up at her.

  “The princess is summoning me. Should I just walk onto the bus, or do you want her to hang her hair out the window so I can climb up it?” Jenna’s voice drips with sarcasm.

  Van looks back at the ground.

  “Seriously Van, possessive much?” Jenna walks onto the bus and sits beside me on the couch. She puts her arm around my shoulder.

  Tears run down my cheeks as quickly as I can wipe them away.

  “Don’t cry. I really don’t think he did anything with that girl.” She gently rubs my back.

  I wipe my eyes and lower my head, slowly shaking it. “I’m not sure what to do. How can you handle this lifestyle? I don’t think I can do it.”


  “You’ve been doing it. You’re a strong, independent woman. Stronger than I thought after seeing that tramp’s face.” She smirks and raises an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

  Jenna examines my hand, which is really swollen now. I can barely move my fingers. She bags some ice and holds it to my knuckles. Ah, the pain turns to beautiful numbness, like the rest of my body.

  “Only you can decide what’s right for you. I would walk through hell to be with Marcus, and sometimes I feel like that’s exactly what I’m doing, but I can’t imagine my life without him. He’s my soul mate.”

  I turn toward her and lift my puffy eyes. “It’s different for you and Marcus. You two dated all through high school and are committed to each other.”

  Jenna tilts her chin and raises her brow. “Look around. Someone can be yours without being married to you and being married to someone doesn’t necessarily guarantee that they're yours. Whether you want to admit it or not that man sitting outside is yours.”

  My heart beat quickens. She’s right, Van Sinclair is mine. He isn’t perfect and he makes mistakes, but I’m in love with him. I take a deep breath, absorbing my newfound comprehension of our relationship. Now the ball is in my court. Do I trust in Van or walk away?

  My heart can’t take the pain of living without Van Sinclair. He’s as important as oxygen is to my lungs, a necessary part of my existence. My life is complete when I’m with him. Every part of my body comes alive whenever he’s near me. I can’t lose him, and I’m not going to let some trashy blonde hiding in a bus ruin this.

  “You’re right, I overreacted. I just lost it and took it out on that girl.”

  “Oh, she deserved everything she got. You may have even taught the guys to lock the door.” Jenna pulls the curtain open and gazes out the window. “I’m glad you’re giving him a chance. He is so pathetic moping around out there.”

  Van sits with his head hung low, pinching the skin between his eyebrows while he waits for me to decide his fate.