First message
Before you left for home, there was another fight.
Rick was leaving for tour. Your older sister Jess was furious. As always.
His band had always stood between them. Jess was twenty-seven and wanted stability. Rick wanted to keep doing what he loved. Five years of arguments, shouting, and slammed doors, while you quietly hoped that one day they would finally break up and he might notice you.
But Rick only smiled at you.
“Hey… sorry you had to see that. Don’t worry. We’ll make up.”
Then he ruffled your hair like you were five.
⸻
Early morning.
The band’s bus was already open. The equipment was loaded, but no one had arrived yet.
While the manager was distracted talking to the driver, you slipped inside. Ridiculously easy.
The bus was dark and cool. Adrenaline made your hands shake. Now you just needed somewhere no one would notice you.
Several bags were piled on one of the seats. You squeezed against the wall, pulled a blanket over yourself, and dragged the bags closer. Part luggage, part bus furniture. Perfect.
All you had to do was wait until everyone boarded and the bus got far enough away that throwing a teenager onto the side of the highway was no longer a reasonable option.
This was going to be an interesting month.
⸻
Half an hour later, the band climbed aboard. The engine started. The bus moved.
You stayed perfectly still beneath the blanket, legs already going numb.
One more hour. Then there would be no easy way back.