to cut loose and have a good time, as was further evidenced by the new glass of Pinot waiting for her. She eyed it warily then reached for a quesadilla wedge. The food went down smoothly and filled her belly.
After she downed a few nachos and some other greasy bar grub she felt much more stable and clear-headed, and so utterly drained. She did sip at her last glass of wine and listened quietly to the conversation going on around the table. Occasionally, someone would come into the bar that knew one of the guys and stopped by to say ‘hi’. One was a girl that knew Carter, and Chandler was pretty sure he only introduced the girl to her to try and make the girl jealous, or to let her know she was probably one of many. Chandler realized it for the sober look into what lay ahead for life on tour with these guys. She’d heard other girls say it before, “Guys will be guys.” But seeing it firsthand? Chandler wasn’t sure how to feel about it. This was virgin territory for her, in more ways than one.
By the time eleven o’clock rolled around Chandler was yawning despite her best efforts to fight it. She pulled herself up from the table, her buzz now a mere hum, and went to the bar to ask the bartender to call a cab. When she got back to the table, she decided she better stay standing or she might fall asleep before the cab arrived. The guys had gone back to playing pool with some other patrons. It seemed the novelty of her presence had worn off, which was fine with her because that meant she could just quietly slip out the door, get in her cab and go home to her now sorely missed bed.
She gathered her purse and guitar case, looked around to wave goodnight to Peri, and found Keeton watching her closely from the far corner of the room. She smiled lightly to him and gave a slight wave goodbye, and was shocked when he held up a finger, asking her to wait. She actually turned and looked around the place. Did he really mean her ? She turned back to the pool table and watched the tall, well-muscled frontman shake hands and laugh with the others around the table. Was he saying goodbye to everyone? Why? Did he need help getting a cab? She watched as he talked easily with a few of the guys she didn’t know, nodding a few times and gesturing toward where she stood waiting. She watched as they glanced up at her and nodded, continued briefly with their conversations and fist bumps and light-hearted chuckles, before KeeMac turned and walked to where she was standing.
“I take it you’re heading out?” he asked, his tone low and serious.
“Yeah, I’m dead on my feet. I had the bartender order a cab for me. I’m not far, just on the East side, near 8 th Street and Navasota. I’ll be fine.”
“Great. We can share a cab then. If you don’t mind, of course. I live about a block from there. And you really shouldn’t be out by yourself at night. Peri and Sawyer live in Hyde Park with all the rich fuckers.” He assumed she was unfamiliar with the area.
“You don’t have to leave just because I am. I can take a cab by myself.” Chandler didn’t want him to have to cut his time short with the guys on account of her.
“No, it’s OK. We have a long two days ahead of us what with rehearsing and shit. I should go on home, too.” The rest of the group decided they would head out as well when he reminded them what they were staring at for the next two days.
KeeMac took her guitar case from her, despite her protests that she could carry her own equipment, and escorted her outside into the warm night air. They only had a few minutes to wait before the cab arrived, and then he held the door to the cab open for Chandler and slid in after her. She looked back at the bar as a few of their group were leaving and a thought occurred to her. She lifted her hand to wave goodnight but they didn’t see her in the cab with KeeMac. “I’m really sorry the whole band has to give up their last weekend at home to work with me.”
“No
After she downed a few nachos and some other greasy bar grub she felt much more stable and clear-headed, and so utterly drained. She did sip at her last glass of wine and listened quietly to the conversation going on around the table. Occasionally, someone would come into the bar that knew one of the guys and stopped by to say ‘hi’. One was a girl that knew Carter, and Chandler was pretty sure he only introduced the girl to her to try and make the girl jealous, or to let her know she was probably one of many. Chandler realized it for the sober look into what lay ahead for life on tour with these guys. She’d heard other girls say it before, “Guys will be guys.” But seeing it firsthand? Chandler wasn’t sure how to feel about it. This was virgin territory for her, in more ways than one.
By the time eleven o’clock rolled around Chandler was yawning despite her best efforts to fight it. She pulled herself up from the table, her buzz now a mere hum, and went to the bar to ask the bartender to call a cab. When she got back to the table, she decided she better stay standing or she might fall asleep before the cab arrived. The guys had gone back to playing pool with some other patrons. It seemed the novelty of her presence had worn off, which was fine with her because that meant she could just quietly slip out the door, get in her cab and go home to her now sorely missed bed.
She gathered her purse and guitar case, looked around to wave goodnight to Peri, and found Keeton watching her closely from the far corner of the room. She smiled lightly to him and gave a slight wave goodbye, and was shocked when he held up a finger, asking her to wait. She actually turned and looked around the place. Did he really mean her ? She turned back to the pool table and watched the tall, well-muscled frontman shake hands and laugh with the others around the table. Was he saying goodbye to everyone? Why? Did he need help getting a cab? She watched as he talked easily with a few of the guys she didn’t know, nodding a few times and gesturing toward where she stood waiting. She watched as they glanced up at her and nodded, continued briefly with their conversations and fist bumps and light-hearted chuckles, before KeeMac turned and walked to where she was standing.
“I take it you’re heading out?” he asked, his tone low and serious.
“Yeah, I’m dead on my feet. I had the bartender order a cab for me. I’m not far, just on the East side, near 8 th Street and Navasota. I’ll be fine.”
“Great. We can share a cab then. If you don’t mind, of course. I live about a block from there. And you really shouldn’t be out by yourself at night. Peri and Sawyer live in Hyde Park with all the rich fuckers.” He assumed she was unfamiliar with the area.
“You don’t have to leave just because I am. I can take a cab by myself.” Chandler didn’t want him to have to cut his time short with the guys on account of her.
“No, it’s OK. We have a long two days ahead of us what with rehearsing and shit. I should go on home, too.” The rest of the group decided they would head out as well when he reminded them what they were staring at for the next two days.
KeeMac took her guitar case from her, despite her protests that she could carry her own equipment, and escorted her outside into the warm night air. They only had a few minutes to wait before the cab arrived, and then he held the door to the cab open for Chandler and slid in after her. She looked back at the bar as a few of their group were leaving and a thought occurred to her. She lifted her hand to wave goodnight but they didn’t see her in the cab with KeeMac. “I’m really sorry the whole band has to give up their last weekend at home to work with me.”
“No
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