Silence on the tour bus is odd. A rarity. Goldie has no idea of how long she's been out. A few hours? Days? Her seconds on the bus started to run together and the silence made the time sprint ahead of her like a flash of memories she had yet to actually experience.

Her fingers roam the empty spot in the bed beside her. Harry is gone but the bus is still moving. The sun and thin, unwashed sheets are the only things providing her warmth. No heat from his bare chest. No comfort from his arms. She sits up, covering her upper body, and looks around for him and clothes. She finds an old black tee and Harry's red shorts on the ground and slips them on. The soles of her feet press on the ground and she steps outside the room.

"Hi, Piggy. Good morning, Blob." She pats the tops of the dogs' sleeping heads.

Silence is all that can be heard. The white noise of the rolling tires against the paved road. Her eyes scan the lake of bodies, swimming in slumber and dim light. Matt. Mitch. Grimmy. Niall. Jonesy with the empty bag of brownies on his chest and legs dangling over the side of his bunk. She steps over his stems and sees familiar rings drumming against the steering wheel and hears a sweet, quiet hum, the melody of which she doesn't recognize. She smiles, now up at the front beside Harry. He's unaware she's standing there. Just blissfully lost in the sunrise and music.

"As quiet as The Kiss. Awaiting the proper season. Awaiting sense of contentment." Harry sings.

"I didn't recognize the tune but I recognize those lyrics." Goldie looks down at him with a grin.

Harry, shirtless and sunburnt, is startled by her quiet voice. "Don't you know you're never supposed to sneak up on the driver." He grabs her hand and pulls her down to sit on his lap. She lets out a squeak and cuddles into his lap like a small child. "What are you doing awake? You should be asleep in our bunk still."

Goldie contemplates asking about his use of "our bunk" but decides it's unnecessary to call attention to it. It makes perfect sense. It had become theirs. "You were gone when I woke up."

"Yeah, your snore is ungodly," he jokes and pretends to be hurt by the slap she lays on his chest. "I've never been one to sleep in and I have a lot on my mind. That never helps the insomniac in me."

"What were you thinking about?"

"Things. Figured taking my shift to drive would help take my mind off all of it."

She wants to pry. She wants to ask what he's thinking about. Saw him open and read his thoughts herself. But she doesn't. As much of a whirlwind their relationship was, it was always baby steps with Harry. Though she could stand above him and hold his hands to help him keep his balance, it was he who had to make the decision to put his foot forward and open up.

"How much longer till Baltimore?" Goldie closes her eyes and presses her ear against his chest, feeling the rumbling as he responds.

"About 30 minutes. Then Philadelphia. Then New York." Harry's voice is solemn and raspy. He had spent so many years of his life chasing fame and notoriety for The Orphans' music and always thought that was the end game for him. That all changed when he met her. "Go back to bed."

"I won't be able to go back to sleep." She cuddles deeper into his torso.

"Do you want to take over driving and I can sit on your lap?" He jokes again.

"I would," she says with a giggle. "But I don't know how to drive."

Harry's eyes widen and he looks down at her several times in millisecond intervals to keep his eyes mainly on the road. "Are you serious?" She nods, her face semi-red in embarrassment. "I gotta teach you how to drive Doris. If you can drive Doris, you can drive anything."

"Deal."

"Now go back to sleep. We have lots to do in Baltimore. We need you by our side for the radio interview." Harry takes one hand off the wheel to run his fingers through her golden hair. Somehow, through all the chaos of shrooms and alcohol, her hair still feels brushed and kempt. He clears his throat and commences his lullaby. The one he wrote for her. "All signs of madness wash over. They throw their hearts on stage. While the moon sits..."

* * *

"You're here with 104.3 WZFT this fine morning and we have a group of lads here you may or may not have heard of," the obnoxious radio host, Steve, practically yells into the mic. Drops of saliva spray from his mouth and hit the table, nearly hitting the band on the other side. "The Orphans! A U.K. sensation taking over the U-S-of-A on their tour. Welcome, guys."

"Hi!" All the guys say in unison, except Jonesy, whose voice lags at the tail end of their salutation.

"Let's jump right in, shall we? How have you all been enjoying the states? Mitch?"

"We love it here. We've had a chance to see some beautiful spots along the way." Mitch holds the shared headset against his and Niall's ears. This is The Orphans first radio interview. They're all nervous and unsure what to expect.

"What has been your favorite stops so far?" Steve asks.

"Vegas," Mitch and Jonesy say.

"Wichita," answers Niall. "Best beans I've ever had."

"New Orleans," Matt responds.

"Houston," Harry answers, his eyes shooting to Goldie. This was the city they first had sex. The city where the volume of their relationship was turned up, along with the vulnerability he never showed anyone. The city would always hold so much meaning to Harry and Goldie. They both know the subliminal message behind his answer. "Let's just say I'll never ever forget Houston."

"Houston! I'm glad you bring that up, H. Can I call you H?" Steve continues without awaiting permission to call Harry by the nickname. "Houston is where you allegedly brawled with The Rolling Stones, is that right?"

"Allegedly," Matt says with a chuckle.

"There are a lot of rumors floating around about what happened there, the most popular being that you were fighting over a groupie. Any of you care to explain?"

The guys sit silent, looking at each other. Frantic. Scared. Grimmy stands on the other side of the glass, unable to jump in at the moment. He shrugs and prays one of them steps up and explains their side appropriately.

Goldie sits at the end of the table, no headset, doodling notes for her article. The question caught her attention along with the lack of answer from the band. They had saved her so many times up until this point. Now is her turn.

She quickly snatches the mic in front of Niall beside her and directs it to her mouth to respond without hesitation. "There's a lot of tension behind stage. A lot happens that the audience doesn't see. Words were said in the heat of the moment and everyone involved felt it was necessary to defend their respective bands. It was quick. It was squashed. The guys actually had a word with the Stones after the fact and all was settled. But it wasn't just bar fights behind the curtain. The Orphans were introduced to so many people in the industry and even performed with Bowie himself. It was truly incredible to see this once unknown band from across the pond sing a song with one of the biggest names out there."

"Oh! And who's this little slice over here?" Steve inquires, basically ignoring Goldie's response.

"That's our Goldie!" Niall yells, a goofy smile plastered across his face. "She's a reporter who's been with us the whole journey."

She glances at Grimmy who's grinning with his thumbs up, elated with her response.

"She's one of us now," Matt adds.

"Very nice," Steve says. "I'd like a lady like that following me around! And who's shagged her already?"

"I don't think that's really relevant, is it, mate?" Harry answers. He subdues his defensive tone. It takes every ounce of his being to keep it professional.

Steve quickly picks up on what Harry is putting down. She isn't some fan following them around for clout and attention. "Fair enough. Speaking of ladies, I'm sure you've met a lot of hot chicks along the way, right? Any memorable stories? Harry, what about you? I'm sure you're scooping up handfuls of panties and bras at the end of every show."

"Another day in the life," Harry answers, a familiar cocky smile on his face. He looks at Goldie in his peripheral vision. This is a different Harry in this moment though. The original Harry. The Harry he thinks the listeners want him to be.

"You lucky bastard!" Steve exclaims. "C'mon. Tell us a story."

"Ever have sex with a chick while on shrooms?" Harry responds. His forced, conceited smile turns to dread when he sees the hurt look on Goldie's face on the other side of the table.

Like a bout of tennis, the rest of the band looks up at Harry and then to Goldie then back to Harry. Not only did he reveal a secret to an audience of strangers but he also opened a trove of secrets to The Orphans. Her chest swells with shame and embarrassment.

"Okay! Okay!" Steve chuckles. "This is a family show!"

"Or is it?" Harry laughs along with him. It's fake. Forced, yet again. A facade of his former self.

"So two more shows left and then back to L.A. to record your first album and a spot on Midnight Special. Any surprises for the big debut?" Steve shuffles around his records, preparing to cut to music after this final question is answered.

"Been working on a new song and writing a lot. You find a lot of inspiration on the road. Traveling gives you a lot of experience worth writing for." With his tail between his legs, Harry looks at Goldie again. Her head is down, fighting tears.

"We are looking forward to it, boys. There you have it folks. This is your favorite radio show host Stevie signing off with The Orphans. Give them one final goodbye!"

"Thanks, Baltimore!" Mitch, Matt, Niall and Jonesy say together. Harry doesn't join in. He just stares at his broken-hearted muse. The world is moving in rapid speed while they both sit in slow motion.

Goldie closes her notepad, stands and begrudgingly shakes the sexist DJ's hand before walking outside. Her heart pounds in her throat. Harry referenced the story of when they first said "I love you" in the most dismissive way possible. He made the interaction seem like she was nothing more than one of the many notches on his bedpost. Is she more than that to him? Was his answer telling of how he actually felt about their intimacy?

"You okay, Golds?" Mitch puts his hand around her shoulders, bringing her in for a brotherly hug.

She can't find words to respond. Instead, she looks up with bloodshot sadness and nods. She lies. The group gets back on the bus and she heads straight for her bunk. Not their bunk. Her bunk from when she first stepped inside.

"Belle, let me explain," Harry tries to stop her. He grabs her arm, bringing her attention back to him. "It just came out. I didn't mean it. It's just—"

"It's Goldie." She rips her forearm from his grasp and lays down. For her, the curtain is closed. Both literally and metaphorically.