Page 3 of Just Wait

Lumen

Three Months Later

Being on tour is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. The crowds are insane, and the fans are intense, but in a good way. They’re mostly at the shows to see Liminal—the headliner—but Theo’s band, Tangled Desires, has picked up some hardcore fans from the first few weeks of the tour.

The last couple of months have been a whirlwind to the point it almost feels like a fairy tale.

Packing up our entire apartment was easier than expected, since we had the money to hire movers, but I almost had a panic attack when I broke my lease.

Theo lived with me nearly the entire time I had that apartment, but we never put him on the paperwork due to his bad credit. Because of that, it’s solely my legal responsibility to pay back the astronomical fees for breaking the lease mid-contract. Though, Theo did promise he’s going to handle it once he gets his first tour paycheck, which should be soon.

For a while, I was struggling with the idea that he might be using me for my songwriting abilities, but things have been great so far, and it’s a relief.

Since I’ve mostly paid the bills for the last year, he said it’s his turn to take over and spoil us, and he’s done exactly that.

Not that he was a freeloader or anything. Theo always chipped in from what he made from his shows. It just wasn’t consistent enough to count on to pay the actual bills.

Before the tour took off, we spent a week at a fancy hotel in Miami. It ended up being the perfect little reset for our relationship.

It’s taken some work to get accustomed to traveling all the time and living out of a bus—there really is zero privacy—but I’m looking at it as an adventure.

The hardest part for me is not knowing what to do with myself while Theo has to engage with fans. As a bonus, I’ve met some of the musical greats, which is hard to do without looking like a starstruck fangirl.

It’s tough, but I dial back my reactions because I don’t want to make Theo look bad. I have backstage access because of him, after all.

Being on tour with Liminal, we had to sign an ironclad NDA. I’d think not gossiping about your coworkers would be common courtesy among musicians, but I’m not part of Tangled Desires, so I get it. Although, Theo and his bandmates were pretty salty about it.

Liminal isn’t fully anonymous, but they do wear masks for some performances. Apparently they’re just super private, which I can respect.

Sometimes I wish Tangled Desires had taken a similar path. If Theo and the guys went fully unknown, they could have a life outside of shows without worrying about fans or the paparazzi recognizing them.

It hasn’t been a problem yet, but I can see it coming.

The masks are a whole gimmick. So far, we’ve seen Liminal perform with and without them. The fans are way more feral on the nights they’re masked, and the band even wears them backstage and at the after-parties, which the ladies love.

I’m one of those ladies.

Their masks are incredible, but knowing what’s underneath makes them even hotter.

I’m eventually going to ask for their autographs. I’ll probably wait until the novelty wears off so I don’t embarrass myself, though.

Watching Tangled Desires practice doesn’t bore me like I’m sure it would some band girlfriends. It’s exciting at first, but then the bickering kicks in, and it loses some of its shine. The guys are always yelling at each other because someone came in late or somebody else played off-key.

I’m used to it by now, but I still enjoy watching them practice because they’re my creations that they’re bringing to life.

I sit at one of the small tables, half listening to them and half in my head. They’re going to need an entirely new set of songs by the end of the tour, and if I have a few done early, they’ll be able to try them out during their sets.

Since they’re the opening band, their set is only forty minutes. They have the practice space for an hour and a half, but it only takes about fifty minutes to run through their set.

“Are you ready to go?” Theo comes over, tossing his arm around my neck and kissing my temple. “I’m starving. I’m about to track down the catering truck.”

The tour has its own catering department with a food truck to serve the bands healthy meals, so they don’t opt for junk because it’s easier. The food is actually really good, but I’m not hungry.

“You guys have the space for at least another thirty minutes,” I tell him, tapping my pen against my notebook. “I think I’m going to mess around on the instruments and see what I can come up with.”

It’s convenient because the acoustics are set up for live performances, so I’ll be able to tell how it’ll sound live, and when I test things out later on the bus, I’ll have a better idea of how they’ll sound in the studio.

“You sure?”