The Band Whore Diaries

11/9/17

Even though I strictly confined myself to not being a relationship on tour, once again, I was a hypocrite.

Then again, I figured that it's nearing the end, so why not just go home with a guy that's guaranteeing me dick, financial support, and a place to live?

At least I don't have to sniff around for someone desperate to get laid anymore, and I don't have to worry about going home alone.

I guess in retrospect, everyone kind of wins.

You know, a lot of band whores, much like myself, only sniff around band members because they're more or less loaded, and it's convenient for free drugs and liquor.

However, all I ask for is sex. 

I don't want bragging rights, or I don't want free drugs, liquor, or money, even though half the time I'm just given those things, anyway.

Even though Danny donated me a few bucks, it was because he thought I was a pitiful charity case.

Therefore, I'm not like the other money-hungry, fame-obsessed bitches that scour every tour for a band member to latch onto.

Anyway, I feel like even though I promised myself to not pursue anything while on tour, I made a good decision going back with Danny.

That way, it forces me to be loyal, and to not feel tempted to sleep around.

Then again, I was also kind of hoping that maybe it'll solve a few issues, such as continuing to work for them without any pointless drama.

Considering that Danny is the main root of it all.

If Danny and I behaved ourselves, I'm sure we'd last for a long time, but if he starts with his shit, then I'm doomed.

I can assure you that if we have a repeat of this tour in the future, I'm going to take up Vic's offer, and turn around and work for Pierce the Veil.

It's just like with Danny, I'm feeling so much anxiety over him for no reason, and it's an internal struggle.

I'm afraid that this is some sort of sick joke, and that in the end, I'll end up alone, and more or less fucked.

All I need to do is calm the fuck down, but it's easier said than done.

Meanwhile, as I rolled over in bed this morning, I noticed that Danny had gone, which sent a burst of anxiety through my nerves.

I flew out of bed, finding him sitting on my couch with a cigarette shoved between his teeth. 

"What's wrong?" he asked slowly, watching my eyes dart around the room suspiciously.

"I thought you got up and left," I confessed, taking a deep breath.

"Why would I do that? If I would've, you know where I'd be, Kota," he chuckled, tapping the ashes off the end of his cigarette.

"I guess," I shrugged, pulling out my own cigarette from the carton that sat tauntingly on my counter.

"Just relax," he reassured me. 

I silently told myself that  I just needed to sit down and shut up.

"Is it bad that I wish this tour would just end already?" I sighed, struggling to get my lighter to spark.

"I think everyone kind of thinks that," Danny snickered. 

"There's just been so much bullshit around here. I won't even want to remember any of it," I insisted.