Chapter Five:
Emerson
I felt like a jackass the entire night for missing Cade’s first show, and the only way I knew how to cope with it was by getting hammered. Luckily, I met a couple of cool cats at the bar around the corner who also let me take a few hits off their joint, so I’m feeling good. My cheeks are hot and numb, and my feet feel like I’m walking on clouds.
By the time I make it back to the venue, the show is over, and only the last band is still loading out. I can see the silhouettes of the guys inside the van waiting for me. I’m sure Cade’s beside himself. I beeline it for the van when I hear a whistle that catches my attention.
“You didn’t even bother to catch us play, did you?” Aiden asks, walking up to me, smoking a cigarette. “I’m hurt.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was requested of me,” I reply smiling. “Can I bum one?” I ask nodding my head toward his cigarette. I’m feeling good, and I know the nicotine will take me to another level.
“Sure.” He pulls out a pack of Marlboro Reds and then hands me one with a lighter. After it’s lit, I hand him back the lighter. “So where did you go?” he asks, motioning with his head toward the city in the distance.
“Just went to this bar down the street. Got a couple of drinks, hit a joint a few times.”
His eyes widen as he takes me in. “So you’re that type of girl?”
“I don’t know what that means, but I like to smoke… yes,” I answer, laughing. I take a drag off my cigarette, the smoke filling my lungs and making me feel lightheaded.
“Emerson Jayne Tucker, what the fuck?” Cade bellows, and then I hear a door slam immediately after. He uses my full name, so I know he’s not playing around. Angry footsteps are coming right at Aiden and me.
I take one last puff off the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and smashing it out with my shoe.
“How long have you been standing there? We’ve all been waiting on you!” Cade huffs.
“Only a few minutes,” I say simply.
“Get in the van,” Cade says as if I’m a child.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” I ask before storming off like the child he is making me out to be.
“Get in the van now; I’m not playing, Em, we’re tired and hungry and need to get on the road.”
I glance at Aiden who looks like a little deer in the headlights. “I think I may find an alternate ride there.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Cade says thinking I’m joking.
“Aiden, do you think there’s room for one more on your bus?” I ask, knowing just how angry it’s going to make Cade.
Aiden looks between Cade and me, appearing torn. “Dude, this is my sister, I brought her on the tour, what I say goes,” Cade says in a panicked tone.
I hear another door open and shortly after Braxton is standing near Cade. “Get in the van, Em, it’s time to go.”
“Oh, great, another one of my brother’s minions. Seriously, I’m tired of you guys trying to call all the shots in my life.” I am slurring my words slightly, but I don’t care. I’m still feeling good.
“You’re drunk, get in the van,” Braxton says calmly.
“Aiden, what would you do if you had everyone else in the world making all your decisions for you? Would you just give in and conform to their wants and needs? Or would you fight back to find your happiness?” I’m feeling philosophical, but I’m also feeling sick. The sky is spinning. “Hold that thought,” I say, falling to my knees and yacking on the concrete.
“That’s gnarly!” I hear someone comment in the background.
“Gross, she puked in her hair!” I hear another person chime in. Sure enough, chunks of my earlier slice of pizza are embedded in my blond hair.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, the wet throw up feeling slimy on my fingers.
“Good luck with that,” I hear Aiden softly say before his cigarette falls to the ground near me and he puts it out with his shoe.
“God, Em, why do you have to be such a fucking mess?” Cade asks, his hands reaching under my armpits and lifting me off the ground. I’m unsteady on my feet, and everything is still spinning.
“I don’t feel well,” I say, although I know it’s more than apparent.
“Well, we don’t want you in the van smelling like puke. Maybe you should find another ride to the next stop,” Braxton says, although I doubt he’s serious.
I’m groaning from the pain in my upset stomach and breathing hard. My stomach feels like a pot of soup that someone is stirring.
“Jesus, Em, what the fuck are we going to do with you?” Cade asks, beyond irritated with me and my antics.
“Just leave me here,” I reply, falling back to the ground. My legs feel weak, and I feel like I might puke again.
“Goddamn it!” Cade roars, kicking the concrete ground with his foot. “Come on.” Once again I’m being lifted from the ground. Soon enough, I’m being dragged back into the venue, and down to the shower they have for the touring musicians. “Clean yourself up,” Cade orders as he turns on the shower and pushes me toward it.
The shower is small and not as clean as I would like it to be. The thin curtain is see through, and any other day I might worry about being seen, but I don’t have a choice in this situation.
I’m still feeling terrible, but maybe the water will help. After he leaves me alone, I strategically strip my clothes off, narrowly missing the vomit chunks in my hair and then throw myself into the small shower. Conveniently, there is a travel size shampoo sitting on the ground, so I borrow some to help with my gross hair. I spend most of the time sitting on the ground of the shower, and letting the water hit my lower back, which helps calm the storm brewing in my stomach.
“Em?” I hear my name shortly after. This time, it’s not Cade’s overbearing brotherly tone, but the voice is still familiar. Braxton’s dark hair and face come into view from the other side of the curtain. I grip my legs tighter, making sure that his only view is my bare back, and then raise my head.
“I’m almost done,” I say simply. “Turn around.”
He does as he’s told and I stand quickly, my arms instantly going to cover my breasts. It’s at this exact second that I realize I don’t have a towel. “Shit,” I mutter to myself more than anything.
“What?” Braxton asks, turning around. He is holding a familiar looking shirt and jeans. Wait, those are mine. Braxton went through my suitcase? Suddenly, I realize that I’ve been gawking at him and still completely nude.
“No!” I scream, scrambling to hide myself any way possible, but the damage has already been done. He’s seen more of me than I care to admit.
“Shit, Em!” he curses, immediately covering his eyes. “Where’s your towel?”
“I don’t have one,” I say, shivering.
“You’re some piece of work, aren’t ya?” he asks, and then I watch as he removes his sweatshirt, handing it to me.
“What do you expect me to do with this?” I ask, eyeing the large gray sweatshirt.
“Use it to dry off.” Once again he turns around giving me my privacy, and I quickly run the soft fabric over my skin. Once I’m dry enough, I wrestle with getting on the clothes he brought for me as fast as possible. I’m shivering because my hair is wet, but I’m thankful I don’t smell like vomit anymore.
“Here ya go,” I say, handing Braxton back his damp sweatshirt. “Thanks.” I pick up my spoiled clothes, carrying them delicately.
“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” he replies snidely.
Just as we begin to ascend the stairs back to the main level of the venue, my stomach begins churning uncontrollably. “Hey, Brax,” I say, breathing hard, attempting to keep the bile down.
“Yeah?” He shifts his gaze back to me.
“I think I’m going to be sick.”