thin white lines | l. hemmings

25

After taking a shower long enough to leave her skin a flaming shade of pink and much drier than before she got in, she actually did what she said her excuse was. Her body felt tired and her brain seemed to be completely drained. The only rational thing seemed to be a nap as an attempt to forget everything she had remembered so abruptly.

The nap lasted until the minute they had to leave, which was later than usual because they had peaked into her room after she didn't respond to their knocking and they saw that she was still sleeping. Collectively they decided that being a few minutes late wouldn't hurt.

When the time came to finally wake her up, none of them really knew how they should do so. In the end, Michael grabbed the bible from the hotel nightstand and threw it to the floor. The crash was loud enough to startle her out of her sleep.

"Fuck," she mumbled as soon as she opened her eyes to see Michael standing beside the bed, hands hovering as if he still held the book. "Sorry. What time is it?"

"Time to go, but we aren't late," he assured her, grabbing the book from the ground and placing it back where he had found it.

She rubbed her sore, tired eyes and pushed herself off the bed to meet with the others, who stood still just outside her door to wait. She pulled on her Converse and didn't bother to check if she had the time to change out of her makeshift pyjamas. Which were grey sweatpants and a loose tank top.

They quietly went down to catch the car, and Delaney silently climbed into the backseat, focusing only on her lap or her fingers that worked to rid her skin of any hangnails or dead skin. Purposefully doing so to avoid joining their conversations or make any sort of eye contact with Luke, who she was sure was a little concerned, or had at least noticed she was off.

And he was concerned. He kept making glances towards her, just to get any reassurance that she was alright but to no prevail. He hadn't managed to catch her lift her head at all once she was settled in that position.

During the soundcheck, she sat alone in the audience as she always did. But she even refused to look at them from a distance, she instead admired the sky in from the open arena. She scanned the few members of the crowd who had been lucky enough to secure soundcheck tickets along with the actual show.

After accidentally reminding herself of what they were capable of, she found it hard to see them as performers at that moment. She didn't want to see a crowd filled with people praising them and even worshiping them as if they were some sort of angels.

At some point, it would get old. She knew she'd be laughing again with them in a matter of time. She had made a promise to Calum that they'd get drunk every single night. Which still sounded pretty good to her. But soon she'd be back to thinking of them as close to normal people, just like everyone else did. If you'd consider the band 'normal people'.

After the concert had come to an end, she was more than ready to ignore her feelings about them for the time it took her to get back to whatever dressing room they chose today.

Once they had all stepped into Michael's room, Delaney searched the room until she made eye contact with Calum, pointing to him in hopes that he'd remember their earlier conversation. He pointed back with a wide grin, seeming to understand right away.

"Luke, you better not hate me for last night because we're going for night two!" He shouted gleefully, reaching for a short and fat bottle of some clear drink.

"What?" Luke laughed, his accent coming through the single word as Calum handed the bottle to Delaney, grabbing a few individual shot glasses for them to use, taking the bottle back from her so he could pour them each.