I shut the door to my home behind me and climb into the limo that waits at the end of my drive. Cayson and Kayla are already inside, and Kayla is rambling on about how excited she is to be traveling to another continent. I try to tune her out, but her excitement is infectious, and to be honest, it helps me forget about the ache that has taken up residence in my chest. When we pull up in front of Rusty’s place, I’m nervous about how this whole working relationship is going to go down. We left things on a neutral note this afternoon when he left, but still, it is his sister I chose to get involved with.

Cayson eyes Rusty as he climbs into the limo and closes the door. “We all good? Things are square between the two of you? Because the last thing we need on this tour is tension, so we’re not moving until I’m convinced that everything is cool between you two.”

It takes a few minutes for us to convince Cayson we’re all good, but once we do, he pushes the intercom button and instructs the driver to head to the airport. Our ride is longer than normal due to traffic, and the once infectious laughter and excitement from Kayla has come to a complete stop. Her head rests on Cayson’s shoulder as he strokes her arm with his hand. It seems everyone's thoughts are all off in their own directions and no one wants to speak.

The silence is broken by the driver. “We’ll be arriving at the tarmac in about ten minutes, sir.” Cayson reaches down, pressing the intercom and telling the driver thank you for the heads up.

It isn’t long before we all board the jet that will take us to Singapore to start this leg of our tour. I take a seat, and Rusty decides to occupy the one beside me. No sooner are we in the air than the sound of snores fills the plane. I’m too worked up to sleep, and with everyone else out, I take the opportunity to pour myself a drink. Sean eyes me as I pour myself a whiskey and asks if I’d mind pouring him one as well. I don’t mind, of course, because it’s always better to have a drinking partner than to drink alone. I hand him his drink and then sit back down. I plan on drinking this whole flight, so when I crash later, I’ll crash hard, but for now, I’ll occupy my time with a few games of Candy Crush on my phone.

Sean sits across from me going over paperwork. Every now and again, he’ll stop and look over at me and ask me if I’m doing okay. I tell him yes even though everything inside of me says otherwise. I’d like to say it is the flight, but honestly, it’s her, Kathy. Being away from her and knowing that she doesn’t feel the same way I do is killing me, yet there is nothing I can do about it.

I’m on my third whiskey by the time Rusty wakes up. “Man, flying is just as bad as riding in a car. It’s lights out the minute we take off.” He looks at me holding my glass. “How many of those have you had, Rock?” It’s the first time he’s called me Rock versus Rocky. I normally hate it when people can’t call me by my chosen name. I’m not Roger to anyone but my parents and Kathy. I’m not Rock to anyone but Cayson and my other brothers in the band, but I think I’m okay with letting Rusty in on that group. At least for now.

“This is my third. Are we going to have a problem?” I ask him straight up.

Rusty leans over to me. “Are you going to stop at three? If so, we won’t have a problem.”

I want to kick myself for this bright idea of mine. I suppose Rusty is just doing what I asked him to do, but somehow, it feels like my mother is sitting beside me, telling me what I can and can’t do. “Yeah, I’ll make this my last if it shuts you the fuck up.”

Rusty laughs at me, then puts his earbuds in his ears and starts scrolling through his music list. I think about doing the same, only instead of hitting the icon for music, I hit the one for photos, and the first photo I see is of Kathy and me together. I’m lying on the couch, and she’s tucked into my side, smiling like a kid on Christmas morning. It’s a sucker punch to my gut, and when I look over at Rusty, I see he’s looking at my phone and the picture of his sister and me. When he sees me looking at him, he turns his head and looks out the window. I immediately close my picture app and down the last of my drink. This is going to be one fucking long-ass flight.

I close my eyes, and God must take pity on me because I’m able to sleep peacefully. It isn’t until I feel my shoulder being shaken and hear the words ‘Wake up, Rock, we’re on the final descent’ coming from Rusty’s mouth that I wipe the sleep from my eyes and stand to make my way to the restroom. I stumble a little from either the lingering effects of the whiskey or the turbulence we are going through. I like to think it’s the turbulence since I don’t normally get drunk from the little amount of whiskey I’ve drunk. The plane is alive with chatter. Seems I’m the only one who was still asleep.

Once I’m back in my chair and sitting comfortably, Cayson comes and stands beside me, motioning for Rusty to move. When Cayson takes his seat, he hands me a set of sticks. “How you doing, buddy? I knew you’d want those.”

He’s right; I need my sticks. Every time we fly somewhere, I find myself beating on something to take away my unease. Last night, though, I didn’t even notice I was missing them. I went straight for the amber liquid to calm me. “I’m good, CJ.” He doesn’t look convinced, so I reassure him once more. “I promise I’m good.”

We stare at each other like two kids having a stare off. Neither of us willing to blink and let the other win. But Cayson gives in first. “You know if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Doesn’t matter that Kayla is with me. I’m here for you if you need me.”

I reach over and clasp my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, CJ, that means a lot, but I’m going to be okay.” Even as I say the words, I don’t really believe them.

I look over my shoulder as Cayson walks away and see that Rusty is sitting next to Kayla. Cayson stops just short of his chair and once again motions for Rusty to get up. I watch as Rusty makes his way back to the seat beside me and starts complaining about having to move seats repeatedly. I tune him out, tapping on the table in front of me with my sticks. Crack, pop, crack, pop. The sound of my sticks echoes through the fuselage. Crack, pop, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat.

With each motion of my wrist, I feel the tension release from my body as we make the descent into Changi Airport. My hands move faster, and the beat gets harder as the plane screeches to a halt. I want to text Kathy to let her know that we’ve arrived, but I won’t. She walked out on me, so she’s made her point perfectly clear. Even though I’m the one who told her to leave. If there were anything between us, she would have stayed and waited for me to calm down. She would have fought for us. So, regardless of what I said, her actions spoke louder than her words ever would.