Watching Steele run off of the bus, afraid to confront his demons head on, Liam grabs the hand that’s holding my clothes for the night. He then pulls my overnight bag out of the other, pulling my now empty hand with him and closing his fingers around mine, yanking me of the bus. Zepp, Gage and Jason following behind us. We enter the breathtaking lobby showcasing all of the glitz and glamour of being able to stay within luxury. Black marble tiled floors, varnished wood desk, oversized sofas. And a giant hanging chandelier that looked like it was worth a million dollars.

Also, a beautiful little sitting area consisting of a small library and oversized maroon sofas surrounding a red brick fireplace. Reaching the check-in desk the concierge gave me a quick once over and shuddered in disgust. Seemingly telling me without words that I didn’t belong here. That I didn’t belong here with these men with devil induced good looks. Luckily for me, even with all of my fucked up half ass life issues, I might be lost within myself and my own mental ass bullshit but I knew that I was worth more. I was worth being judged by my character, not by the people who surrounded me.

I make myself.

I’ll be damned if someone was going to belittle or begrudge me into being someone I wasn’t. All qualities, my parents, raised me with that I intended to carry on within me. Not giving the lady a chance to get a word out, letting go of Liam’s hand. I approached the desk with a big smile laid on my face preparing to smother her with my kindness.

“Hello” quickly looking at her name tag “Joyce” I say in my brightest most over-the-top friendliest voice.

“We all have rooms reserved here, my names Natalie Wright, and this is Li…”

Liam cuts me off “Names Sam Adams.”

I look at him, confused. What the hell?

Incredulous, I ignore the obvious lie he just told. Even if he was using a different name, how does he or the other guys not think they would be recognized? They are famous for fucks sake. Years of touring and they still haven’t figured this out. Their tours bus, showcasing their bands name, pulled up to the front of the hotel, and they all stepped off not disguised.

It would have been easier if they just told everyone where they were staying. Maybe put it on the ticket stubs the fans attending their concerts bought. Surely everyone in this town knows that a billboard chart topping band is in town putting on not one but two shows in this area. The first being tomorrow night. Shaking my head as I sign the paper Joyce handed me and collect my room key. Liam already has his. Pulling me along to the elevator, he asks what room I am in. Checking my key card.

“Third Floor room 315, you?” I ask curious if we are neighbors for the next couple of nights.

“Same floor, room 314.” He says smiling.

Reaching my door, he leans in and places his lips upon my cheek while still holding my hand. A connection I really didn’t want to break.

“If you need anything Princess, I’m right next door. Before I forget, hand me your cell.” He says, face still close to mine.

“Why would you want my phone?” I ask with uncertainty.

“So I can add my number to your contacts. I changed my mind I am going out tonight with the guys. I just want to fix whatever happened between Ryan and I earlier. If you end up needing to reach me for anything at any time now you can.”

He must have changed his mind from earlier this morning when we discussed it at breakfast.

“Oh, Okay.” I reply. Bummed.

I let go of his hand, reach in my pocket and grab my iPhone and hold it out to him. When he grabs my phone, I back away upset. Upset that Liam is going out. Leaving me alone, him being the only one I am comfortable with. Saddened because I feel that he is the only one sincere with his caring and comforting of me besides Layla.

Upset that Steele is going out most likely to find a groupie who can’t keep her hands off of him. One that will give it up freely. Even after what passed between us earlier. I really need to shake off how much he has gotten under my skin, this man is not good for me. If I can manage to survive living my life every single day after everything that has happened then I can do this.

Heartbreaker is written all over him. If after earlier he can go out tonight and touch some other woman, kiss another woman, have sex with another woman, then clearly earlier meant nothing to him. Which would mean punching Liam in the face was uncalled for, without reason.

By no means am I a fixer-upper person. I am torn and shattered myself. If I can’t fix what I have going on I could never take on the task of fixing or changing someone else. But for once in my life, I want to take a chance, a risk, even if there isn’t a jackpot. I have no expectations of him. It seems that most of the time I hate the egotistical man.

Assuming he could touch me, make me feel this way. Overcome with panic, I shrug Liam off and tell him I’m tired and escape to my room. I didn’t sign up for this shit. To go on a tour with a band I am not even a fan of. To meet five unbelievably gorgeous men, one who doesn’t mind touching me or fighting for me. Then for that same one to leave me alone. Feeling excluded and stuck on the outside.

Slamming the door closed behind me, I start shaking. Tossing my bag on the floor, I sit at the end of the bed and place my head between my knees. One week. One week since my last attack. Hours from the comfort of my bedroom, my home. Hours from Layla. New prospects surrounding me. I focus on my parents and all of the good memories. Waking up every morning before school to share a sit-down breakfast with my parents.

We would talk about our days. What was going on in each of our lives? We were as close as we could be, but they always had obligations to their work and the community. So we made it a point to make sure we still kept our family only time uninhibited.

I’m terrified. Scared as hell. These feelings that have been festering all week are unknown, new to me, and I have no idea what to do with them. Trying to rein it all in all the time, is near impossible. The only chance I have concealing what is waging inside of me is by being near Liam. Unwanted flashbacks of my parent’s funeral skipping in and out. I try to shove that memory far back, but it forces itself upon me.

Looking back at my parents’ funeral. It was classic. The normal flowers surrounding their caskets and a blown up picture framed of them at the helm. Almost everyone who attended barely knew them. If they did, they had very little to do with us. Hell most I had never met, yet they all felt they could approach me. Giving me the same inconsequential load of bullshit, one after another. Every person stepping up, giving me the fakest most insincere advice.

“They will always be with you.”

“I am sure they are looking down on you.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

Blah. Blah. Blah. With each and every comment, I fantasized about grabbing their hair, pulling it out. Punching them right in the face. If only for them to stop speaking for a moment.

My parents are dead. No longer here.

I will never see them again.

I will never have another meal with them, celebrate another birthday or ever hear their voices again. There is nothing that I nor anyone else can do to change things. God knows if there were, and it would have been done five years, three months, one week and four days ago.

Experiencing loss is the loneliest thing in the world that anyone at any unexpected time could ever go through.

Sure, many have had to deal with it, paddle their boat across the river of grievance. But not everyone processes the stages of grief at the same pace, or in the same exact order. Not everyone feels death so severely with the loss eating at their souls. To where five years later, it’s still controlling every ounce of my emotions’, my life, my being.

My soul.

Death- the only thing that can ever be guaranteed out of life. Devastating for survivors, the ones left behind. I can either fall down that never ending drain of despair hiding out forever, or pick myself up one piece at a time and put myself back together. I will forever have the scars and every day is still an incredible battle. At times, I will find myself smiling, a real smile, and it hits me- the guilt. The guilt that I can be happy without them here. That I could laugh without them. So yes when I wake up every morning and feel that rush of pain anew, it’s hard to make the decision to get out of bed.

I sludge out of my memories; anger resurfaced at all of the people who pretended to be there then that weren’t now.

It was a long hard road to coming to the conclusion that I had few honest people there for me. The ones who had promised, only promised to be there for me because they had a self-interest. Money makes the world go round. How friends are bought hell how family is bought. Not with me. When I saw for myself, I tossed every one of them out of my life.

Self-Preservation. It’s what I have done up until now. Until last week, until today.

Repeatedly reminding myself, everyone is only out there for their own gain. Fortunate that my panic attack didn’t cause me to vomit. I continue breathing in and out, letting my thoughts settle. I think about what enjoyment I could find tonight. Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I send a text off to Layla. She replies instantly.

Me: Hey Lal we’re in Albany the band has a show tomorrow night. I’m close to freaking out, so close to home. If someone that knew me were to show up. Just... I’m confused.

Layla: About time you reached out to me Nat. Making me fucking worried over here. I knew you would be busy, but I thought I would hear from you before now.

Layla: You’ll be behind the scenes. Don’t be nervous. You’ve got this babe.

Me: You’re probably right; it’s just being here. Our first night in a hotel. Nothing to do.

Layla: Throw a hoodie on and go exploring. Take advantage of this trip babe, you know I would ;)

Me: Sure, maybe. I’ll find something.

Me: I’m going to take a shower. I’ll text yah later ok. Love ya.

Layla: Love ya too Nat!! Missing you already

Promising to reach her later I decide to take a shower. Grabbing my satchel of clothes, I bring it into the bathroom with me. Sitting it on the counter and starting the shower. While the waters heating up, I look at myself in the mirror. Still unrecognizable. Shady black bags under my eyes that are bright red and puffy. My mouth lightly chapped from the constant licking of my lips from my erratic nerves. I throw my clothes off in a rush to get under that hot steaming waterfall.

Once under the water, I run my hands through the long and thick mass of hair on my head. I once heard this great piece of meditational, stress free advice. When in the shower, I inhale through my nose and slightly exhale through my mouth. There is something so peaceful about it. When I feel like I am carrying the weight of the world, I jump in a hot shower and just breathe. I always end up feeling hundreds of pounds lighter, and my mood lifted.