Paxton and I played board games a lot when we were younger, but it's been years. My first instinct is to say yes, and before I can talk myself out of it, I'm agreeing. What the hell has gotten in to me?
He explains the rules, and we play. It's a fairly simple game of moving the marbles around the board and trying to capture more marbles than your opponent, but there's definitely some strategy involved. He beats me. So we play another round. He beats me again. And he taunts me this time when he does it. We play a final round, and this time victory is mine. I'm not shy about rubbing his nose in it, either. I feel like I'm playing with Paxton. And it's actually relaxing. I smile to myself, because even though I prefer to be alone, this whole morning has been kind of perfect in a weird, unexpected, unplanned way. I'm usually very organized, but this was spontaneous, and, well ... nice.
And I love Mancala. Who knew?
I also know this can't happen again. This was a moment of weakness. I can't slip into trust-mode with this guy. The last man I trusted with friendship broke me.
(Gus)
I had a great morning; completely, unexpectedly great. Hell, it felt almost normal. I didn't think that was allowed on the road. Normal. Hell, I didn't think that was allowed in my life at all anymore. And mystery solved on why Impatient doesn't answer me sometimes when I whisper to her late at night or early in the morning while everyone is sleeping. I always thought she was just ignoring me. I didn't know she was hard of hearing. Makes me feel a little less like the enemy. Don't get me wrong, she's still standoffish and quiet. Only now I think that may have more to do with her than me.
Saturday, May 20
(Gus)
Apparently I was wrong. Standoffish and quiet has everything to do with me.
I invited Impatient to go with me to the laundromat this morning, but I guess she did her laundry yesterday. Which is fine, but she's turned down every attempt I've made to be nice to her this week. She's avoiding me, like intentionally and obviously avoiding me. I don't know what I did, but I'm sure I did something. I thought we turned a corner last weekend on the whole friendship thing, but I guess I was wrong.
Scratch the part where I thought we could be friends.
We're back to sticky notes.
Fuck it.
I tried.
Whatever.
Wednesday, May 24
(Scout)
I'm back to keeping to myself. It's better this way. I feel more comfortable. I talk to Paxton every day; he's my lifeline to the real world outside of the weird, rock star world I'm trapped in at the moment. He asks a lot of questions about the band because he loves their music. I don't have many answers for him, because, well, I don't know their music and I'm definitely not discussing them personally—that's a line I won't cross.
And besides that, they're just people.
Paxton idolizes them.
I live with them ... and wish I didn't.
Two totally different views that I can't reconcile in my mind.
Friday, May 26
(Gus)
We've been on the road for just over a month now. Even though we're in a different city every night, repetition is king: sleep, eat, drink, call Ma, drink, eat, perform while drinking, sleep. Repeat. Once again alcohol is an amiable companion. Because people are just too hard for me right now.
It's monotonous, but I don't have to think too much at my current pace. It's routine and easy. And I've cut out women. There's never a shortage of propositions, but even sex isn't doing it for me like it used to. Seeing them so eager to please me makes me feel like a fraud. They want to be with Gustov. Not Gus. It's not that I act like two different people; I'm just me. But they don't know who that really is. I do. That's the difference. I'm done.
I'd rather just hang out on the bus. How fucking sad is that? It's the truth, though.
Four more weeks and I'm home.
Four weeks.
Fuck my life. Four more weeks.
And Impatient? She's another mental game that I can't shake. She doesn't like me. The past two weeks avoiding all actual verbal interaction is key for her again. It's like those few days when we talked and acted friendly never existed. Like they were some weird dream I conjured. I wish it never would've happened, because then I wouldn't miss it. I wish this didn't bother me so much, but it does. It's like I have people throwing themselves at me, wanting a piece of me, all day, every day. I love the fact that she doesn't do that. That also means she won't have anything to do with me. Shit, I'm drinking way too much these days to analyze like this.
She's back to using sticky notes for all of her reminders or instruction; it's her sole source of communication again. I don't know what happened between us, but I'm kinda pissed. Or maybe I'm lonely. Hell, I don't know. But I usually don't respond anymore. I just want to talk, not write notes. She still gets shit done despite my lack of participation or cooperation, though. It's nothing life or death, but she takes her job seriously. And as much as I resented the whole PA idea at first, it's been for the best. She's efficient and thorough, and if I have to admit it, even if she doesn't like me she's got my back work-wise. She's going out of her way to meet her obligations.
I'm beginning to resent being an obligation. Especially if that's all I am to her.
It's five-thirty and we just wrapped up soundcheck. The venue sells pizza, so I grab a few slices and a couple of beers and head back to the bus to eat while the guys go to a steakhouse down the street. Vegetarians and steak don't mix, so I'm sticking to three slices of veggie and three slices of cheese.
The bus is quiet when I climb on and take a seat at the table. Silence is rare when you share a bus with so many people; I don't take it for granted. I feel like it's the only time I can get out of my head and just relax. When I'm finished with the pizza, I reach in my pocket for my phone. It's not there. I try the other pocket. Not there either. The terror is fucking immediate. I feel that flash of panic when you realize you've lost something important. When it subsides, I decide to check my bunk. I hope I didn't lose it again. I've gone through four phones in as many months and it's always a pain in the ass to get it replaced.