Tragic Magic II World Tour

Chapter Seventeen

We arrived in Edmonton in just enough time to do a sound check and still grab lunch. Tonight's show felt good. I hoped it would be better than the last show.

All of the performers were hanging in the two separate buses, getting ready for the show.

"So what should I be doing while you're on stage?" I ask Andy while he fixes us both drinks at the bar.

"Sit there and look pretty like you always do," he says, sliding me a cocktail.

"Sit where?" I ask, almost joking.

"Side stage?" He says, not completely sure, "I don't know, just hang close by. I wouldn't want to miss it if something happens with Ronnie."

"Yeah, you're somehow better at handling those situations," I admit, running my thumb around the rim of the glass nervously.

"Yes," he says, leaning over the bar, "I know his intention. Plus I'm still trying to win you from him, so I've got to step up my game, right?"

The fact that hasn't changed is that I am still married. I thought we were doing perfectly fine, anyways. Yeah, I like Andy, but I'm married.

"If you're so happy in your marriage," Andy continues, "then why are you on this bus with me?"

"Because I've accidentally become addicted to you and my husband hates me," I explain to him.

"Cute," he says, kissing my cheek, "I'm glad you're addicted to me. Forget about Ronnie for now."

"Believe me, I'm trying," I press my head against the bar and sigh.

"I know, love," he says, lifting my chin, "I have to go sort out concert shit with Vic and Ronnie, wish me luck."

"Ooh, you're going to the dark side?" I smile at him.

"Yes, but you need to stay on the light if don't want to have a mental breakdown," he says, kissing my forehead and leaving the bar.

"Be careful," I follow him to the front of the bus.

"Don't worry about me, worry about them," he says, leaving the bus.

The show starts in three hours and the bus is completely empty. I wasn't sure what to do, so I crawled into Andy's bunk and took a nap.

I slept for about an hour before being awoken by noises on the bus. I couldn't bring myself to get up and check, so I stayed in bed.

"Juliet?" I hear Ronnie call.

Shit, what does he want? I covered my head with blankets and stayed quiet.

"Juliet, we need to talk," he calls out again.

"Yes," I say, not moving a muscle.

"Where the hell are you?" He asks, searching the bus for me.

"Back of the bus," I answer, trying not to breath.

"I'm here," he says standing in the sleeping quarters, "are you in one of these beds?"

"Yeah," I pull the blanket off of my face and look up at the bottom of the top bunk.