I lazily looked over to my bedroom's window, watching small raindrops quickly cover up the glass. Soon enough it got replaced by whole strains, successively blurring the grey outside view.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, feeling the horrible pain in my temples. I didn't sleep well at all, I was both scared and excited of today's evening. I'm seriously gonna play an instrument in front of real, non-imaginary people. One thing's for sure: I have to get my shit together in 2 hours, before we take off to Philadelphia.

We're staying at some hotel, and we planned to get there by 4pm, so we could properly get ready for the gig at 7pm or 8pm. I have great hope that I could sleep some more in the bus that we'll be driving in, because otherwise I will just drop asleep by 9, and we don't want that.

Johnny told me that it's not an ordinary bus, but a band bus, as he has creativity called, which is kind of a whole VIP vehicle. It's not giant, but it has some free space, so if we want we can practice, I believe there are also couches or something, just a place where you can lay down and rest. I know from Johnny that it contains a mini-bar, and a great blessing, which is small fridge with only energy drinks in it. I've never ever expected buses to be so cool and actually pleasant, let alone using them to drive somewhere.

Philadelphia is South of NYC, and from my calculations it looks like it'll take us 2 hours to get there, not counting in the possibility of traffic jam.

I sat up, already creating a step-by-step plan to collect my shit together, including a shower and to finish packing my suitcase.

I grabbed a water bottle standing on my night stand nearby and brought it up to my lips, already feeling a tingle of excitement rushing through my lower belly.

--

I drank the last sip of my gorgeous Redbull and went back to painting Johnny's nails. I was doing mine black just to pass the time, and then decided to ask if he'd like some, too. Of course he wanted.

Him and Joe were discussing something and he kept bringing his hands up to gesticulate, so most of the time it was just me telling him to sit still.

I smiled when I heard Forever Young by Bob Dylan take over the speakers.

"Listen, Joe, I'm not saying the book is bad, but even Jack Nicholson himself said-" Johnny started, bringing his not yet entirely painted left hand to point his finger at the empty space beside him, almost like Jack Nicholson was actually standing there, about to agree.

"Johnny,"

"Right, sorry." he stopped in his tracks and gave his hand back to my deposition. "What about you?"

I lifted my gaze at him as I realized he's been talking to me. I hummed in question.

"What do you think?" he asked again, blowing at his already done right hand nails, so they'd dry faster.

I looked at Johnny, then at Joe.

"I agree with Joe."

I chuckled a little at the glance of betrayal Johnny shot me, and so did Alice sitting with a guitar nearby.

The air around us seemed light as a feather, everyone joked and in general had lots of energy. I had no idea you could debate so thoroughly the simplest things, like digging up the deepest meaning of a song someone made 60 years ago. But it was fun to listen to guys talking, sometimes even playing guitars in most sensual way existing.

In fact, it wasn't boring at all to listen to 'old men playing guitars', like someone's once said. Though I don't think her opinion matters to anyone.

Except us three, here were also Jerry, Jack and Johnny's PA. The rest of the crew and bodyguards were driving in another car, somewhere behind us.

The bus itself was even cooler than I've imagined, and it was almost like these London double-decker buses. We were all sat 'upstairs', and the whole stuff of guitars and everything else needed, including our driver's place, was 'downstairs'.

I took a sit in the front, in a way where I directly faced the big glass, showing nothing but the road, though now more like showing nothing but sea of glistening raindrops. And although I drank an energy drink maybe an hour ago, I suddenly became a bit sleepy. That was until I overheard Joe asking Alice something.

"So how many people bought the tickets?" he asked.

"It's a hell of a bar, so I think around 100. We'll be getting a big audience."

Throughout all this time we were driving I kinda relaxed, but now the anxious butterflies had woken up from a coma and another wave of them came rushing through my belly.

"I've also heard," Alice continued. "that our AC/DC folks and other pals will visit. They cannot wait to hear the new song."

Fuck my life.

I tore my gaze away from his face and started nervously picking at my freshly painted nails, destroying them a little. Without a warning, my mind got caught in a bubble of stress.

I'll actually have to play my first ever bit in front of 100 people, let alone that including some best of all-time Rockstars present. My heartbeat fastens by just thinking about it. I don't want to overthink only the what-ifs, but that's pretty much all I have. Even though I'm only there to play one song, I'm still incredibly anxious I'll ruin it and embarrass myself-

"Hey, hey, relax."

Suddenly, Johnny's voice pulled me out of the trance, and one of his hands sneaked around one of mine, making me stop messing with my nail polish.

He frowned, "Your hands are stone cold-"

"Johnny, I'm afraid I'll mess it up."

I looked him so deeply dead in the eyes that I could see my own reflection.

He tsk-ed. "Of course you won't. We played it so many times together that you could do it with both hands tied behind your back."

I broke away from my anxious state, chuckling.

"I know, I know. But I have a very unique talent of forgetting. Especially if I'm stressed."

"Believe me, I know what you feel. Though there's a way to not be so scared."

I turned myself more to him, and I'm pretty sure the question I wanted to ask was written all over my face.

"Actually more like someone who will help you." he then bent a bit, lowering his voice.

"Mother Tequila."

I giggled, the anxious knot in my stomach disappearing entirely.

"That's not stupid, tho." I replied. "I'll definitely try, if you say so."

After some time I went back to observing the road.

To be honest I really looked forward to sleeping some more than I did at night, and it came so quickly that before I even knew, I was half-laying half-sitting on two seats at once, staring at droplets of water in a race with each other until my eyelids became heavy. I didn't mind the music in the background, nor the quiet chatter of my friends.

I don't know if that was a dream or I was still awake but already half-asleep, but I felt something being put on me, like a jacket.

I opened my eyes a tiny bit, only to catch in act a wrist with a crow tattoo on it, fingers soothing the rough material and making sure I'm all warm.

The next, and last, thing I felt before I went out was weird. Something pleasant on my forehead.

Something like a gentle kiss being pressed.

💝

🌺