i keep forgetting to
write chapters for this
book until literally sunday
(i update monday)

- 19 -

Noah and I got tattoos in New Jersey.

We both got a tire swing, an homage to Road to Serendipity in all it's depressing glory. Noah just kept giggling about how stupid these tattoos were, but I felt differently. I liked the allusion to something that impacted my life.

Noah may have thought of that movie as the beginning of the end.

But for me it was the spark that lit the match. I wouldn't be where I was today without that movie, and in turn, without Noah. They could have casted any two kids who could read lines well enough, whose only experience was that of commercials and movie extras. I could have been filming with an entirely different twelve-year-old and maybe the movie would have flopped. It was that kind of thought that kept me so attached to the sad little movie.

So Road to Serendipity was important to me. I loved the new tattoo.

Noah smiled from the chair beside me. I glanced at the buzzing needle and then back at him. It was starting to not surprise me anymore, the slight shift of wanting in my body every time I looked at him too closely. But how couldn't I?

He always carried this essence of fresh air. That was the best way I could describe it. Being in Noah's presence was like the first wear of a clean sweater, that clean laundry smell that always flutters through my senses comfortingly. Noah was like that for me, like shedding a layer of doubt just by being near him.

"We don't have to post about this, right?" Noah asked, biting at his thumbnail. "I kind of don't want to."

I shrugged. "It can be our little secret." His shoulders relaxed and my eyebrows pushed together in confusion. "We don't have to post anything we do. You know that, right?"

Noah's eyes flitted to the tattoo artist, who was too busy finishing up my piece, before he focused on his hands in his lap. It was awkwardly wordless for a few beats before he answered. "I— yeah, of course," was all he said.

"Alright then."

"By the way, I'm gonna stay on the bus during soundcheck and take a nap, but I'll be up to watch the show from backstage," he said, pulling out his phone to check. I nodded without responding because I was getting saran wrapped and told I was good to go.

We grabbed some food after that and headed back to the bus. I only had an hour before soundcheck, so we just watched an episode of a new Netflix series while we ate and then I left him to get ready.

I had woken up beside him this morning. He was still asleep when I opened my eyes. Chester was no longer between us, but he very well could have been. Our bodies were completely detached with a fat orange cat sized space between us, no thanks to my overkill mattress.

It wasn't like I expected him to cling to me in the middle of the night, but maybe I hoped? Maybe after our conversation I wished something would happen between us? We agreed to stay friends and I had to get over my desperate pining. It was old.

Time to move on.

The show went great. I was a little buzzed from excited pre-gaming with Kailey. She was a terrible influence on me when it came to drinking, but I liked our friendship. If that's what you could call it.

Is it friendship if you've only recently started being cordial with one another after years of bad blood? Either way, I liked having her around. Especially because she knew about my attraction towards Noah and, unlike Dustin, at least humored me on the topic.

It was dark outside by the time I made it out to the car park where the bus was. Noah didn't show up backstage like he'd said, but I figured maybe he went out to get some dinner or overslept instead. We had one more day in New Jersey, but as I said, we were sleeping on the bus while we were here. And I wanted to hang out with him.

There weren't any lights on other than the little cabin overhead light where my driver was reading a book. I squinted towards the bedroom to see if there was any sign of life. The TV was on, but I couldn't hear any sound. All I could see was the bright blue light tinting the room from the open doorway.

I dropped my things on the table and quietly crept towards the bedroom.

Noah was in the bed, curled into a ball on his side with his face smushed in the pillows. I tilted my head, finding him equal parts adorable and confusing. It wasn't very late, had he been sleeping the entire time? He'd regret that later when he woke up in the middle of the night.

I hummed when I saw the TV was paused on an episode of Love is Blind, which was kind of funny. So Noah liked dating reality shows.

Just as I was about to leave him be and go hang out in the living room, I heard a buzzing sound and stopped. I looked around Noah's body for the source, but realized it was farther away, across the room.

I approached the vibrating phone on the ground, lying next to my closet door. It was relentlessly ringing with notifications when I picked it up, but when I saw the spiderweb of cracks across Noah's phone screen, I nearly dropped it. It was in perfect condition when we were taking pictures of our tattoos to show Dustin and Kailey. I tilted the phone to try to make out the culprit that was blowing Noah's phone up.

MacNeil.

I felt my stomach curl with disgust. Why was this sleazy son of a bitch bothering Noah so often? I couldn't imagine they were still contractually connected. Noah said he didn't even have a manager at the moment.

The phone stopped buzzing in my hand when the call disconnected and the notification read 32 Missed Calls & 31 Unread Voicemails.

"What the fuck . . ." I mumbled under my breath.

Instantly, the phone lit up and started ringing again. I glanced at Noah's back, who didn't even flinch from his slumber, and nibbled at the corner of my mouth. Jumping to my feet, I walked around to look at his face. My heart sunk when I realized his cheeks were splotchy and around his eyes were swollen. He cried himself to sleep . . ?

I stormed out of the bedroom and off the bus completely, the no longer buzzing phone in my hand. My heart was beating a mile a minute and I stared at the shattered cell phone, just waiting for it to ring again.

Come on, you piece of shit.

The screen sprung to life when MacNeil called again. This time, I answered.

"Hello?"

I heard MacNeil breathe out, as if he wasn't expecting Noah to answer. "Finally, you answer me," he said, that disgustingly familiar voice sending a chill down my back, goosebumps riding down my arms and legs. "You know I don't like to be ignored."

Deciding not to say anything, I just held my breath and waited. It was quiet on both ends and my memory shot back to seeing Noah's tear-stained cheeks.

"I hate it when we fight," MacNeil said, a child-like inflection to his voice. "I didn't mean what I said earlier, you know. I know you're on tour with Theo and you don't want to deal with me, but I can't go this long without getting something from you, baby."

Baby?!

Again, I didn't say a word. David MacNeil grunted on the other side of the phone, surely waiting for whatever Noah would say in response to that. What the hell would Noah say? What did he mean by 'getting something from' Noah? I felt sick.

"Did you take your medicine, Noah? I know you get delusional when you don't, thinking you don't have to listen to me," David continued. "But you do. You're a washed-up, depressed drug-addict whose only talent is getting on your knees and sucking on my—"

I couldn't take it anymore. My options were either to reveal myself and insert myself into whatever fucked up situation Noah and our former manager were in or to hang up the phone. I chose the latter. My breathing was erratic as I lowered the phone from my ear, trying to understand what the fuck was going on but failing. Noah and David MacNeil? That was impossible. Noah didn't even like him and he was at least twenty years our senior. He was a disgusting pervert that had a reputation for being creepy with minor actors under his management.

What the hell happened to Noah?

Before he woke up and realized what I'd done, I hurried back onto the bus and plugged his phone in next to where he was sleeping, silencing the vibrations so it wouldn't wake him up. He stirred when I set the phone down. I draped the blanket that was pushed to my side of the bed over his body and let him sleep.

Then I got drunk.

It wasn't my business. I shouldn't interfere. If that was one of the demons Noah told me about, it was his right to tell me all about it on his own terms. I shouldn't butt into his shit without knowing the whole story, right? He made it very clear he didn't need help with things like that.

But the image of them two together was making me sick, more sick, and sicker the more I thought about it.

I wanted to tell someone, to release this information to Kailey just so it wouldn't fester for long inside of me. But it wasn't my business, which made it worse. Knowing something I wasn't supposed to know that nobody knew that I knew. Oh, god.

Noah walked out into the living room at around two in the morning. I was numbly playing video games, pretty drunk, trying to keep from thinking about it anymore. I looked up, feeling my heart sink at how exhausted he looked.

"What are you doing up?" Noah asked, sliding into his spot on the couch beside me. Chester padded in behind him, pausing to lick himself in front of the TV.

"Uh, can't sleep," I muttered.

Noah scooted closer, taking some of my blanket. I wanted to weep for him. "I accidentally slept through your show," he said vaguely.

"What happened to your phone?" I asked suddenly, catching the both of us off guard. I felt his eyes on the side of my face, but I kept my gaze on the TV. "I saw it laying there and plugged it in for you."

"Thanks for that. I threw my phone when I, uh, read some article online about me. Didn't think it would break like that. Guess I haven't quite gotten my anger issues fixed."

The lie. It was so simple, such an easy lie that tumbled off his tongue so easily. He didn't owe me the truth, by any means, especially since he didn't know I knew what really happened. It just sucked knowing there was a situation I could try to help with, but not being allowed to know a damn thing about it. Noah was in some deep shit and I just wasn't sure I could stand by and let it happen.

"Right," I sighed.

"What?"

I turned towards him, our faces more near each other than normal. I looked into those eyes, those warm brown eyes that I'd compared to putting on clean, warm laundry. He didn't look like he'd been defaced and battered by a man we were supposed to trust in our youth. I didn't see any signs of distress in that very second, looking into his eyes on the couch of my tour bus.

Noah was a better actor than he gave himself credit for.

I sighed. "Nothing."

We ended up not talking about it. I continued to drink while Noah sat beside me and watched me play the game until I grew bored and put the Netflix show from earlier back on. I almost forgot about the MacNeil ordeal, but didn't really. It was lingering in the back of my mind like a prickly burr, stuck until I pulled it out.

And by some miracle, Noah decided he was going to tug at my heartstrings even more by being affectionate with me. He cuddled up to my side and rested his head on my shoulder.

It made me nauseous.

How could this boy that was so soft and sweet with me in moments like this have the nastiest, darkest scars? It was all underneath, buried deep under all of his redeeming qualities. I couldn't accept that he was as tattered as he was beginning to reveal himself as. It was the hardest pill to swallow since reuniting with him.

I just let him fall asleep on me and hoped that maybe tomorrow would be the day he trusted me with his whole being, all of his secrets and the ugly stuff he didn't want me to see. Maybe we'd never be lovers, but I sure as hell wasn't letting this tour end without at least being friends.

Real friends.

The kind I only found in Dustin. If he was going through what Noah was, I would have heard about it years ago. We trusted each other with our lives, but Noah and I just weren't here yet. I could deal with that. Trust came with time and maybe I hadn't shown myself to be trustworthy.

And if I confessed that I'd stolen his phone, answered his phone call, and then listened in on crucial, private conversation, he'd hate me forever. I had to play dumb until he told me himself. He'd never trust me if he knew I was too nosy for my own good.

My shoulder was killing me and I desperately needed some water, but he was so warm and touching me. How could I possibly complain?

I let the beautiful boy sleep on me until around six in the morning when he woke up. I didn't catch a wink of sleep, not with his arm on my lap and the sound of his breathing lulling my heart to a steady beating pattern. I eventually dragged myself to my bed and got some sleep.

Even my dreams weren't safe.

I dreamed that Noah and I were married in a little cottage somewhere. We spent the days picking vegetables and painting, then cooked dinner together while dancing to music that my dream concocted. It was strangely beautiful and when I woke up, I wished I hadn't. I could have lived in that world forever, one where I didn't have to worry about Noah. One where he could be mine for the night and for the day and for forever, if it mattered.

But I woke up and this same shitty reality was still ours. Noah wasn't on the bus when I woke back up for soundcheck. I tried not to worry about him, but if that's what David MacNeil was like?

I'll be worrying all night.