Taking The Walk
This tour had caused me to develop a really bad attitude toward the walks. I hated feeling that way, but I couldn’t seem to change it. The walks were so much more my project than Isaac and Zac’s, and I think everyone knew that. On this tour, they were becoming a form of torture.
For the last few weeks, Seamus and I had been hesitant about showing our relationship to the fans. He had joined us on a lot of the walks, but it was always a delicate sort of dance. He never walked too closely to me, never lingered by my side for any length of time that might look suspicious, never shared any inside jokes or secret comments where the fans might hear. We were careful—painfully so.
But Seamus wasn’t the only problem. There was also Zac.
Few fans would see anything strange about Zac clinging to me during the walks. He and I were always close like that, even when, apparently, we didn’t really know each other at all. During this tour in particular, he had seemed to cling to me more than usual. I had accused him of doing it on purpose to get under my skin. I didn’t know if that was true, but it seemed to fit with his general attitude. Whatever the reason, though, it stopped after our fight. He didn’t come near me at all, instead choosing to surround himself by a crowd of fans so deep that I could barely even see him amongst them.
And Seamus, needless to say, stopped walking with us entirely.
I still found myself stupidly scanning the crowd, trying to find him, but he wasn’t there. I knew he wasn’t there, but I couldn’t stop looking for him. It was practically an instinct, the need to be near him so much a part of me that it didn’t matter how many times I told myself he just wasn’t there.
The walk in Cleveland was later in the evening, as we’d taken to scheduling them. That gave Shay the excuse of a scheduling conflict; the walk ran into his soundcheck so conveniently that he didn’t even need to mention that he was actually avoiding me. I knew the truth, though. Shay didn’t want to be anywhere near me.
I couldn’t really blame him. If I’d had the option, I wouldn’t have been anywhere near me.
I tried to distract myself from my stupid thoughts by talking to the crowd of girls gathered around me, but I could barely focus on what they were saying. It was the usual stuff, really. Every girl who chatted with me during the walk inevitably wanted to discuss the charity thing or how long she’d been a fan. It was all pretty predictable.
“That’s a really nasty looking bruise,” one girl said. “Where’d you get it?”
Except for that girl, apparently.
I glanced down at her and tried to smile. “Oh, I ran into a door.”
A complete and total lie, but she bought it. That lie sent the entire group of them into a fit of giggles, in fact. I guess my clumsiness—even when it wasn’t remotely the truth—was just hilarious. As long as it kept them from realizing the truth, I didn’t care how much they laughed at me.
“Where’s whats-his-name… the opening act guy?” Another girl asked. It seemed there was no escape from the awkward questions that day.
“Oh, Seamus?” A third girl cut in. “I was at the last show, and he was so good!”
“He’s a really talented guy,” I replied, feeling like I had to practically shove my hand down my throat and rip the words out. I meant them, but Shay was the second to last thing I wanted to talk about right then—Zac being the first.
“Doesn’t he usually take the walk, too?” The third girl asked.
I forced myself to nod. “Yeah, umm, he usually tries to. Sometimes the walks are a little later and he has to do soundcheck instead.”
Thank god he had an actual excuse. I certainly couldn’t tell these girls the truth about him. Had we still been together, it would have been different. I was just getting comfortable with the idea of making the relationship public; I doubted anyone would have been surprised by it, so what was the point of hiding? But now that it was over, I really didn’t feel like discussing it with the fans.
“Oh,” one of the girls replied, sounding disappointed. “Well, that’s a shame. He’s so cute… wish I could have met him.”
I could feel my face heating up, and I had to fight the urge to agree with them about how cute he was. How was it possible for a handful of fans to make me this nervous? I couldn’t remember the last time I lost the ability to speak in front of a group of them. Surely it hadn’t happened since I was fourteen or fifteen, when I was just realizing the power I seemed to have over all of them. I didn’t understand it then, but it didn’t take long for me to learn to enjoy it—and use it to my advantage.
Right then, though, I wanted nothing more than to run from it.
Unfortunately, I still had a walk to finish, and I didn’t think anyone would appreciate it if I turned it into a sprint. I mumbled something about how Seamus liked to come out and sign autographs after the shows and tried to ignore how it made all of their faces light up. I knew that look of infatuation; it would have been my own expression during a conversation about Shay until just a few days ago. Now, though, I felt more like hurling all over the girl who asked about him.
If any of those girls noticed my nausea, none of them felt the need to comment on it or stop commenting on Shay. In fact, if I hadn’t known better, I would have assumed they were all just trying to bother me.
“What’s he like?” Another girl asked. “Is he fun to tour with?”
“Umm,” I squeaked out. “Shay’s… Seamus is, umm, yeah. He’s a cool guy. Very… chill. He’s nice to have around.”
I hadn’t really said anything at all, and I was pretty sure the girls noticed that. They certainly seemed to notice the little nickname I’d slipped up and used.
“Is he single?” One of them asked, soliciting giggles from the rest. Something in her sly smirk said that she had ulterior motives for asking, and I didn’t like that at all.
“You know, that’s really not any of my business,” I replied. It wasn’t a lie; I was sure that Shay didn’t want me to have anything to do with his love life anymore. I gave the girl who asked the question a stare that I hoped implied and it’s none of yours either.
My reply must have been even more harsh than I intended, because the girls were all just staring at me, eyes wide and mouths hanging open. Great. On top of everything else I’d done wrong, I’d managed to be mean to a bunch of fans, too. I mumbled something about the walk being almost over, which was true, and sped up so that I could both reach the front of the crowd and get away from those girls before I said anything worse to them.
It wasn’t the first time I’d snapped at fans, and I usually hated myself for it afterward. Sometimes it was just far too easy to let their demands and sense of entitlement anger me, and I said things I knew I shouldn’t. Zac was even worse than me, though. He never seemed to care at all, or even notice, if he let his sarcasm go a bit too far. As angry as I was with him, it strange to find myself suddenly envious of him and wishing to be more like my stupid little brother.
I rushed through the rest of the walk and gave the quickest version of my end of walk speech possible. I could feel Isaac’s questioning stare on me the entire time, no doubt wondering why I was in such a hurry. Zac’s stare was on me, too, but I couldn’t place the emotions in it. His eyes were blocked by the camera he kept trained on me. I never really understood why he took so many pictures during the walks; we didn’t really use them for anything, at least not in the quantity that he took them, and even if we did, four billion pictures of me bellowing into a megaphone were pretty boring. I would never ask him to stop, but on that particular day, it really annoyed me. It took every ounce of strength I had to keep talking and not rip the camera from his hands and throw it at the side of the building.
There was a distinct chance that I was misdirecting my anger, but that was a line of thought I didn’t feel like exploring.
Once I was finished with my succinct little speech, I stuffed my feet back into my shoes and hurried off toward the bus. I had absolutely no desire to stick around and say more stupid things to the fans. What I really wanted was to find Shay and let him comfort me, but I knew that was no longer an option. The realization that I had no one on this tour who I could talk to, no one who could provide me any comfort when I was upset, hit me like a punch to the gut. I had completely alienated myself from everyone, even the brother I had long considered my best friend.
“Tay!” he called out. Of course it had to be him—the very brother who was at the center of all my problems.
I didn’t take my hand off the bus’ door as I spun around to face Zac. He was closer than I realized and my body tensed instinctively, even though running from him wasn’t a very reasonable or mature option.
“What?” I asked.
Zac shrugged. “Just… I dunno, you looked kinda upset on the walk.”
Where did this sudden concern for me come from? He’d barely said two words to me since our fight, and now he was asking if I was okay? It made no sense. I shook my head. “I’m fine, Zac. Really.”
“If you say so…” he replied, his brow furrowing. “Forget I asked, I guess.”
He shoved past me then, yanking the door out of my hand so hard that I almost fell backward. I stared blankly at his quickly retreating figure, trying to figure out how I’d managed to upset him then. I really didn’t understand him at all.
Fearing that he was only going to fill the bus with smoke again, I let the door slam shut and walked away. I needed to find somewhere quiet to be alone. Since I didn’t have anyone but myself, I figured I might as well get used to being a loner. A quick check of my cell phone told me that I didn’t have long before our soundcheck, but perhaps I would still have enough time to clear my mind a little.
Somehow, I had a feeling it would take more than a short walk around the outside of the venue to get my mind where it needed to be.