The Red-haired Whirlwind

I surveyed the inside of the bus before finally deciding to settle at the tattered leather couch at the back. Holding a can of coke on my left hand, I puffed a smoke on my right, carefully not to burn anything with it.
The night is definitely not quiet, with all the ruckus outside because of those different bands partying as usual after a night of rocking on stage. I peeked at the party outside, noting the different band members getting drunk out of their minds. Some are just chilling, exchanging bottles of beers and sticks of cigarettes, probably talking about each other's careers, while the others are on full party mode-- dancing, singing, being wild kids doing what bands are good at.
I sink deeper on the couch, putting my leg up on the armrest and finishing my cherished stick of cigarette.
"When will this end?"
I asked to no one.
The bus is quiet, with everyone outside doing their own businesses. I'm the only one who stayed in just to rest.
I'm about to finish my soda when I heard a voice.
"I don't really know what's wrong with you dude. Are you okay?"
The voice belonged to Frank. I looked at him and he's all sweaty, his long hair plastered on his forehead. He's holding a bottle of beer and he's obviously been outside. Our guitarist is definitely enjoying his night.
I sat properly and he took that as a cue to join me in the couch. He took a cigarette from his pant's pocket and lighted it.
"I'm just tired man. I just want to rest for tonight."
I answered him. He took a long drag of his cigarette and puff the smoke upwards. I've been friends with him since he first saw us play live. That time, My Chemical romance was nothing but a little basement band. Frank loved us playing and when we asked him to join us, he almost shouted with joy. He's been my best friend ever since.
"That's all? You're not sick or something? Because this is not usually you man. Everyone's looking for you too."
He replied. I sat back on the couch, sighing as I do.
"I don't know. Maybe I'm just tired of this life. Like, I'm not usually like this but lately, I've been craving for some peace and quiet, just away from all this... loudness."
I wiped my face with my hands, closing my eyes and just letting my frustration simmer within me.
"I get you but this, this loudness you're talking about is our life. It's what's literally supporting us. Are you saying you're done with this, with the band?"
There was urgency in Frank's voice. I can feel his weight shift. He's restless. Did I ever come across as someone who'll break my own band for some vacation?

"Fucker, i'm not done with this band. I just want to have a little vacation away. Like, somewhere without cameras, screaming fans, sound checks, and all that stuff you know? Some little peace and quiet for a change."
"Well I get you. But you're basically asking for the moon right now. We're in the middle of this tour and you can't just go and disappear. We gotta finish this things first before your dreams."
"Dreams. Just a little vacation, that's all."
"Gee, after this you can go to fucking Narnia if you want. We just gotta power through this tour and we're done. I bet Bryan will give you your break."
Bryan the manager. Of course he needs to give me what I want after the tour.
I didn't even bothered to open my eyes when I felt Frank stood up.
"You sure you don't want to join us tonight? Your brother and Ray is worried about you, you know."
"Oh for fuck's sake, I'm not dying. Just go and be rowdy or something. Tell them I want to catch up on sleep. "
I heard him chuckle as he exits the bus.
I lied on the couch and imagined a world without me being a rock star.
Sure, being famous has its perks. Signing stuff, being recognized where we go, the feeling of actually doing something with my life. It's all amazing. Add the fact that some people consider us as heroes, our music saving them from harder times.
Fame is good too, but lately, it's tiring me out.
We've been on this tour now for four months already and every night, we all pour our hearts out on stage. We sing, we play, we entertain.
The next day, we hop on our tour bus and travel to the next city.
Rinse and repeat.
Don't get me wrong, all of these experiences are amazing. Just being on Warped Tour with all these other amazing bands is enough to keep me going but somehow, even the applause, the screams, the lights, all tired me down. All I want now is to go home and spend a long time resting, being lazy, doing idyllic things like my art but I can't.
We still have three more months to go. Three more months of doing what we do best.
That means countless of nights spent on hotel rooms or tour buses. That means hung over days pushed through drinking cheap coffee and sound checks wearing pajamas, or outfits dirty from all the sweat and grime of the stage.
Touring isn't glamorous. We can't even have regular showers.
I love it.
But I know for a fact too that I'm in great need of a break.

Notes

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