To the Ones Who Didn't Bow…
Chapter 2: Because of Conflicting Schedules
Oh em gee! Second chapter! I'm in a hyper mood! So sorry.
Recap:
I sighed at my melancholy thoughts and allowed Ketchup's soft guitar playing to put me to sleep once again.
START OF FEBRUARY 1, 2009… SUNDAY
"Yo! Get your ass outta bed! Ryan says we have to be ready for an interview in an hour! Meet us at the bus!" Ketchup yelled through my bedroom door. I immediately threw the covers off my bed and ran to my shower, jumping in quickly after I had thrown my clothes off my body.
Ryan was our tour manager who spent the day arguing over the phone trying to get us interviews and photoshoots to promote our band. From the times I've actually spoken to him without his cell phone attached to his ear, I learned that he's actually a pretty decent guy but with too much stress.
We woke up in the middle of the night last night to drag ourselves and our suitcases into the hotel we'd be staying at for the day. We would leave for LA tonight so there was no need to pack now. I heard the guys come in after us an hour later. I couldn't remember anything else after that because I had fallen asleep, duh.
An hour may seem like enough time, but getting yourself to look presentable, eating enough food to last till lunch, and driving there, it really wasn't.
I took a quick five minute shower and jumped back out again, still half asleep. They say showers help to wake you up. No, not really. I wonder everyday how I manage to take such a quick shower. I wrapped a towel around my body and walked quickly out of the bathroom and over to my suitcase. I threw some clothes that matched and went together nicely on my bed. After toweling myself off, I threw the clothes on and sat myself at a mirror, taking out my straightener that did its job with your hair still wet. With my hair so long, I really didn't have enough time to flatten my hair completely. I did manage it to stay in small waves though, silently giving thanks to God that my hair wouldn't my frizzy today. Sometimes, it's unmanageable like that. I put on some basic makeup after. I grabbed my phone seeing I had one missed call from Demi. Figuring I'd call her back later, I walked out my room after grabbing my card key from one of the fancy tables in my room.
Outside, people were rushing back and forth in the hallway. This is why we get a whole floor to ourselves. Two doors over, Casey walked out of her room looking as perky as ever. She seemed to be able to do that everyday. She didn't even need coffee. I waved her over and we walked to the elevator together.
"Morning chickie. What are we doing today?" she asked me happily.
"Morning Case and you ask me that everyday. You know Ketchup is the only one who knows these things," I replied with a groan. I rubbed my eyes and yawned while managing to press the down button on the elevator. I know, I have skills.
In a desperate attempt at morning conversation, and I knew the only thing I would barely have to pay attention to, I asked how Spencer was doing. Her eyes lit up and she bounded into the elevator, taking off on how awesome he was. I rolled my eyes and, with a smile, stepped in after her. Still babbling, she pressed the lobby button and we began our descent.
I made the appropriate noises of affirmation. You know: the nod occasionally, the gasp at shocking parts, laughing at funny moments. Stuff like that.
The elevator gave a little "ding" as we reached our destination and we stepped off. We walked out of the hotel quickly and made our way to our bodyguard Steve who was standing outside one of those hybrid SUVs. I'm not a car person so I wouldn't know what kind it was. He opened the door for us and Casey and I clambered in. Ketchup and Liz were already there and were eating breakfast the hotel had apparently offered us. He shut the door behind us and we were off to interview number one.
"Morning ladies. The hotel provided us with some breakfast so eat up," Ketchup instructed and greeted at the same time. He didn't need to tell us twice as I grabbed a fruit cup and an already cream cheesed bagel. As we all ate, Ketchup filled us in to what we were doing. Ketchup was like the messenger. Ryan told him who told us. Pretty simple actually.
"Alright, we're on our way to a local radio station for a small interview at ten and then a private acoustic set around ten thirty," noticing the tired looks on mine and Liz's faces he added with a smile, "They're won't be many people there so no pressure." I let a small relived look cross my face, as did Liz. Satisfied, he went on, "Steve already packed our instruments so we're all set there. Then we're off to the Lowell Sun. They want some pictures for their newspaper. It's just a newspaper so the pictures won't be too restricted. That should be done around twelve, twelve thirty. We can go back to the hotel for some rest but then we have to go back to the venue around three for rehearsals, sound check, the norm. Any questions?" Ketchup asked after filling us in. Liz raised her hand tiredly and looked pointedly at Ketchup. He chuckled, pointed at Liz, and said,
"Yes… Liz."
"Can you FLY?!" she exclaimed. That earned a well needed laugh from us all.
When we arrived at the radio station, we were swarmed by fans. I managed to sign every poster shoved in my face with my signature blue sharpie. When we got inside, we had to wait for a half hour before the interview actually started. Fine with us because we were still eating. When they invited us in, we were asked the basic questions: how'd the band get started, who created the name, favorite colors, foods, places to go, what we thought of the fans, the tour, family, friends, and then the dreaded question: love.
Why it was always asked last, I have NO idea, but it sucked anyway.
"So Carrie, how are you and Kevin?" the host, Patrick, asked me with a smile. He actually wasn't that bad. We've found that smaller town hosts were nicer than the larger cities.
"We're great. Though we don't get to see each other as much as we'd like to because of our conflicting schedules, we call and text everyday so it's all good," I said with a reassuring nod and smile.
"And the age difference still doesn't bother you? I know a lot of people who don't approve of the relationship," he pressed.
"In my opinion, age is nothing but a number. Of course there is a line. I mean, I wouldn't date someone ten years older than me," I replied.
"Speaking of relationships people don't approve of, what about Gerard and Frank?" Ok, screw small-town, nice guys. Patrick was really starting it push it. Of course I didn't let it show, that wouldn't be smart.
"From what we last heard from a couple days ago, Gerard and Frank are still going strong," Ketchup answered for me, knowing I would probably loose my cool no matter how hard I tried.
That pretty much ended the interview for me. Liz, Casey, and Ketchup each got their turn on the love question. They all answered the question with "we're all single". Liz and Casey didn't want anyone to know about Spencer and Joe. Ketchup was the only one telling the truth.
The performance was great though. The few people they let in were calm and collected. Didn't scream excessively. It was nice for a change.
The Lowell Sun photoshoot, if it's even appropriate to call it that because they only took maybe four or five pictures, was nice. It was a nice little building for a popular newspaper in this part of the east coast. The people there were patient with us and didn't rush us at all. They actually took a picture of us in a dog pile. I ended up on top again. Told you I would never end up on the bottom again.
When we got back to the hotel, we immediately went to our rooms to freshen up and put on our concert outfits. We packed our stuff and lugged it all into Ketchup's room. We ended up staying there until it was time for us to leave.
We ordered room service and ate together for lunch and ended up sprawled out on his king sized bed, drifting in an out of sleep at the end. We really hadn't planned on doing much. Just resting and sleeping until we had to leave for the venue. We tried to rest us much as we could. We had gotten super close so this wasn't weird for us. Sometimes they would find us asleep on the same bed.
I had fallen asleep for a good hour and a half when a knock on the door woke us up. We all groaned and turned away from the noise.
"I got it," Ketchup said after the second knock was heard. He got up slowly and stretched before walking over to the door. It was opened to reveal Steve who smiled slightly at us sprawled on the bed.
"Time to go?" Casey grumbled beside me.
"Time to go Casey," Steve said in an apologetic tone. We all groaned and slipped off the bed one by one.
"Come on guys! Last one and then we get a week off!" Ketchup said, trying to pump us up.
"He's right. Then we get to see everyone again," I said with a smile. Everyone nodded and agreed with me as we grabbed our bags and made our way down to the elevator, and out to our awaiting tour bus that would bring us to Tsongas.
Screams immediately met our ears as we stepped off our bus. The early risers rushed the chain-link fence that thankfully separated the bus lot from the public area of the venue. We all waved to the crowd with grateful smiles as Steve ushered us into an "Authorized Personal Only" door.
We were locked in our dressing room until three o'clock for our sound check. It was all going smoothly until a rundown of La La Lie. We were right in the middle of the song when one of my strings on my bass snapped, ricocheting off my left hand.
"Shit!" I swore angrily, clutching my now bleeding hand. My swearing reached the microphone in front of me, making everyone stop what they were doing. Once they saw my crumpled heap on the ground, clutching my hand, they all rushed toward me. Someone removed my bass from my body. I scrunched up my face in pain as my hand started to shake from blood loss.
The string has cut not too deep but it still hurt like hell. Well it was an extremely tight string that just so happened to be worn. It was my fault that I hadn't changed them in awhile. It would need stitches.
"Oh my God," Liz said, turning away. She was a little revolted by blood and I knew that. I saw her run backstage. I wasn't insulted. I would too.
Ketchup took one look at my hand before whipping out his phone and dialing 911 I presume. He only dialed three numbers and unless he dialed 411…
"Damn, this really hurts," I mumbled as Casey wrapped a comforting arm around me.
"It's gonna be okay chickie. I know you'll want to continue without us, no matter how much we protest. We'll get Garbo to play for us tonight," she said smiling at me. I leaned my head on her shoulder.
"Thanks Case. You're awesome."
"I know," she said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes but then they tightened and I flinched as another wave of pain ran up my arm. Someone handed me a piece of cloth and I took it with my good hand, wrapping it quickly around my injured hand. I hissed at the cloth fibers touched the inside of the cut. Casey tightened her hold around me. I smiled gratefully up at her.
"They'll be here soon Kid," Ketchup said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. "Come on, let's get you to the dressing room. I told them to go there," he said. Them meaning the paramedics. Casey and
Ketchup both helped me up because my hands were still clutching each other and I had no leverage to lift myself off the floor of the stage.
The adults we passed gave me sympathetic looks. Apparently word spreads fast. We all walked in silence to our dressing room.
"I'm really sorry guys. This totally sucks," I said sadly.
"Yeah it does suck, but things happen," Casey said, being as blunt as ever. Ketchup slapped her playfully on the head.
"What Case means is that it's okay. Unless you did this purposely, which I highly doubt you did, it's not your fault. Like Case said, we'll get Garbo to play for us," Ketchup said with a reassuring smile. I smiled a strained smile right back. To let him know I appreciated his words, even though I was in an incredible amount of pain.
I was led right to a couch when we stepped into our dressing room. Ten minutes later, the paramedics came rushing in and took me from my friends, strapping me to a stretcher that really didn't help my situation. Only Steve was to accompany me to the hospital. No one else could come because of conflicting schedules. I would be pretty much surrounded by strangers.
As the ambulance ran along the road, hitting every pot hole imaginable, I came to a revelation. If everyone in the venue knew about my accident, even word had reached to the fans because they crowded the ambulance, then why hadn't the most important people in my life come to comfort me?
Yes! Why didn't Mr. Prefect Boyfriend and his affiliates come to console her? I don't know! Well, I do, but I'm not telling you! Oh, and you guys should check out William Beckett's blog. He's awesome. His music is awesome. He is an inspiration.