Navy Blue Eyes

People. Everywhere. A sea of people, their bodies pressed up against one another, leaving little room for air and even less room for personal space. She wasn't sure how she got here, she didn't even know why the thought occurred to her. All she knew was that she was diving and swerving between sardine-packed beings as she fought to find some room to breathe. Despite her terror lighting her veins on fire in a painful twist of flames through cells, she felt alive. Exhilarated. She felt whole. She felt strong. She felt real. This might just be what she’d needed.
Rowan felt inexplicably pulled further into the mass of people, her heart seemed to have a rope tied around it, the other end in someone’s hands as they drug her deeper into the melee. Part of her, the logical part perhaps, told her this was wrong. It told her to get out, go back, stop now. But the other part, the part dominated by her tethered heart, told her it will get better if you keep going, just keep moving, go further, don't stop now. And she chose to believe the latter. She chose to believe that it would feel better, if only for a moment, if she just kept moving.

Suddenly she was slammed against a wall of people, no room to exist as one soul, only as a small fraction of a much larger whole. She’d somehow managed to inch her way so deep into the crowd that she now stood directly in the heart of the mob. This odd sense of being magnetized to something beyond those metal bars seemed to possess all around her, they all felt the need to press themselves as close as possible to the barrier in hopes of reaching what they were being drawn to.

Intimidated as she realized that there was no way out and she was surrounded by strangers, Rowan felt her air grow thin. She was dizzy, the faces around her swirled. Suddenly there was a firm grip on her arm, ripping her back to reality. Images still morphing, she blinked to focus on the owner of the hand. It was a girl, in her early teens, her voice was fuzzy until Rowan tuned in enough to find the sounds.

“Hey, are you alright?” the girl asked, her brows knitted together and her almond shaped, green eyes narrowed with concern. Rowan tried to nod, wanting desperately for the girl to let go of her arm. “You sure?” she verified, conveying her concern in elevated tones as the crowd around them began to roar. Rowan’s eyes were glued to the girl’s bright red braid that seemed to glow in some weird way Rowan’s foggy brain couldn’t comprehend.

How had she gotten here? Rowan remembered now, telling Johnny she needed to use the bathroom backstage, pretending she was going to meet Kellin back there. She’d run off, not knowing where to go but knowing she needed to get away. She had been feeling crushed by the weight of the attention she’d been receiving. Ironically, she felt more free now than she had in an open field with only a handful of people.

Why had she ended up here? She remembered weaving through people, barely missing being spotted by Mike. She had only a moment to glance at the large, inflated schedule, proclaiming the set times to a smattering of patrons. She hadn't had time to think any thought independently, they had all been rolled into one ball, thought all at once rather than in a string of one concept leading into the next. And now she was here. This strange girl with vibrant hair holding onto her wrist, her eyes attempting to drink in every face at once.

The crowd’s roar only intensified as a drum beat rang out. Rowan was too short to see the band she’d come to from here, the girl beside her was of a similar build and also began to strain herself to see higher, still not letting go of Rowan.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked, and Rowan was so numb that her response came without a second thought.

“Rowan,” she responded blankly.

“I’m Morgan! Wanna move closer, Rowan?” Morgan all but screamed through the hysteria of the fans around her mingled with the beginnings of a guitar riff. Rowan wasn’t even sure she responded before the girl, who was apparently her new best friend, guided her between yet more jam packed people. Rowan wanted to protest but she was so overwhelmed that nothing was making sense. This might very well be a night terror. Was this a night terror? No, this wasn't a memory. And she remembered how she got here, it wasn't a new dream. The music was raging now, and a voice filled the speakers that nearly sent Rowan over the edge. She felt sick to her stomach and immediately latched onto the arm of the odd girl for dear life.

“What's up, guys?!” The crowd around Rowan roared in approval. “Fuck yeah! Let's break this barricade! Fucking move!”

People began pushing and shoving and Rowan was frozen still. She took the blows, appearing lifeless aside from the vice-like grip she maintained on Morgan’s arm. There was a small pocket forming around her, it relaxed her entirely. There was a small space to breathe. She would get through this. Then, the pocket grew and suddenly people were running at each other. Startled, Rowan jumped closer to Morgan and out of the line of fire.

“Not the mosh pit type, huh?” she called to Rowan through the chaos. Rowan was still too shaken to respond but Morgan’s eyes were back on the band and she didn’t much seem to mind Rowan’s mental absence. Rowan kept a closer eye out for pits as she began to attempt an escape. She needed to get away. This had been a stupid idea. She needed out.
Sensing her increasing distress, Morgan bent to Rowan, despite the constant movement of those around them. “Do you want to surf? Do you need to get to the medic?”

Rowan shook her head vigorously, hell no! There was a very good chance of getting spotted by a familiar face. She didn't want to risk it. She decided to tough it out. She’d somehow run when everyone started separating, she decided. “I’m having a great time!”

A disbelieving look crossing her soft features, Morgan shrugged. “Kay!”

Rowan looked around herself in awe, this was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. It was terrifying. But thrilling. These people were all melded, if only for twenty minutes, into one being as they all felt this same rush. They all created this memory together. It was insane, but alluring. It was dragging Rowan in. She was almost able to forget what was really happening in her life. Almost.

Somehow it dawned on her that she had spent ten minutes here, she had to get out fast. People might be looking for her. If she was going to make a permanent get away this was her opportunity! She was wasting it. Out, she needed out.

The people around her began to spread out, all of them deciding to do this mysterious act at once. Just her luck, they were about to start punching each other again.

But no, they didn't, they kept backing up, and the girl was just standing beside Rowan, her face a mask of pure shock. Rowan looked around, realizing the crowd had split in two halves, leaving Rowan and Morgan directly in between. “What’s–” she began, but the voice that made Rowan’s head spin blasted through the speakers again, sending her stomach plummeting to her feet.

“What the– NO! STOP!”

No one heard him, even the band kept playing as if he hadn’t said a word, everyone began to rush forward. No one heard him, that is, aside from Rowan and the girl holding onto her. From either side came a tsunami tide of crazed fans, wild with the adrenaline of a day at Warped Tour. Morgan was panicking, trying to brace herself for the impact, but Rowan couldn’t care less about the inexorable agony that would ensue in seconds, because at that moment there was only one person on the planet. She looked for the first time to see Kellin standing there. He was soaked, his shirt and his hair clung to his alarmed face with the glue of sweat, and his skin was red all over. Sunburned, she thought to herself. The girl beside her dropped her jaw to the floor, thinking that Kellin’s steady gaze was trained on her. But Rowan knew the truth, and her hands began to quake.

“NO ONE MOVE!” he shouted into the mic, but no one heard him over the anarchy. The father and daughter were still there, staring each other down. “YOU!” he shouted into the mic, his eyes never leaving Rowan, beckoning to a guard. “Help that girl over the barricade, please!”

But it was too late. And Kellin watched in horror as the dark maw of people swallowed Rowan whole. Rowan felt pain all over. Sharp jabs of limbs and heavy collision of those three times her size. No one seemed to see her at all, and the only thing keeping her grounded was Morgan’s sweaty hand.

Kellin had thrown his microphone down, all sense abandoned as bile rose in his throat. He was going to be sick. He had to get to her. He jumped down from the stage, finally catching his bandmates’ attention as they too began to discard their equipment, struggling to stop their friend. He plowed through the photographers recklessly, his heart thundering too loudly to hear his name being screamed from all directions. He mounted the two stairs on the stage side of the barricade, his eyes scanning furiously for those big blues that would sweep him in like the undeniable pull of a black hole. Guards were gripping the back of his cut off and jeans, trying to steady him as fans began to rip at his clothing and bracelets, desperate to pull him closer. He shook them all off as best he could, looking into the faces of the kids up front and shouting as loud as he could.

“Move! Please! Back up, clear the way!” Slowly, they understood and began to respond. Most of them clearing a small passage way for him. It was harder for the guards to hear him through their earplugs. He had to physically wrench himself from their holds, hoisting himself into the crowd. He was being swarmed again, they didn’t get what was going on and everyone wanted to touch him. There were screams, cries, hands popping up in all areas as they attempted to grab at him. “Move! Stop, please! I need to move!”

Kellin fought his way through the throng, roughly shoving his way toward the very center, feeling himself pulled toward the place he’d last seen her. She had to be here. She had to be okay. She must be.

He distantly heard the shouts of his friends from the stage, none of them knowing what the hell had gotten into Kellin. He ignored it all, every scream and shout and stretched out hand. This was too important.

“Oh my God!” came a feminine voice to his left, “Look!”

He began to keep moving away but then something caught him and he stopped short, his heart now racing painfully fast.

“Look, Rowan! It’s Kellin Quinn!” said the same voice, and Kellin spun around to face her.

The speaker had widened eyes, her shock apparent at being noticed by the lead singer. Rowan, on the other hand, began to fight to free herself. Kellin was moving toward her, wading through the crowd as if making his way through quick sand. Meanwhile Rowan was yanking herself free of Morgan’s clutch, wanting to weave through the crowd to avoid her father’s sight.

After fighting through several more people, Kellin was a foot away from them, reaching out to grab for his daughter. She began to stumble back, still in Morgan’s grasp. Her back was met with an assortment of people surging forward, shoving her right into Kellin’s arms. Rowan tried to escape yet again but his hold on her was too tight. She squeezed her eyes shut, now grappling for Morgan’s hand out of pure fear, perhaps misplaced and irrational fear but fear nonetheless.

“Please, I need out!” Kellin plead, hoisting Rowan onto his hip, but she was holding tightly to Morgan’s hand. “Rowan, let go!” he begged, his own cocktail of terror constricting his vocal chords. Rowan refused. “Come on, then!” he called to the girl clinging to Rowan, her mouth hanging wide before she hurriedly stumbled along behind them. The crowd was still a handful to force themselves through, but it began to thin as Kellin saw guards coming into view again. They were almost back to the barricade.

As soon as they reached the separation, Kellin spotted Vic amidst his band members. Kellin knew better than to pass Rowan off to a hulking strange man, she needed security in the known. And the only other person he knew her to trust was the guy in the baseball cap and skinny jeans. “Vic!” Kellin shouted, catching his attention easily as all eyes were already on Kellin. Vic bounded across the stage and dropped off, easily maneuvering himself close enough to mount the barricade’s steps and stretch his arms out for Rowan. The small girl’s eyes were still clamped tightly shut, but as she felt herself leave Kellin’s embrace they flew open. “Take her to the medic tent!”

Vic nodded and, with Rowan now on his hip, began to make his way toward the first aid tent backstage. Focusing quickly on helping the girl gripping Rowan’s hand, Kellin turned to her kindly, despite his waning patience as he needed nothing more than to know if his daughter would be alright.

“I’ll lift you up, a guard will help you over, okay?” She nodded quickly, seemingly still stunned to be spoken to by him at all. Kellin helped her up, his hands hooked beneath her arms, and passed her to a guard. “Take her with Vic and my daughter!”

The guard did as he was told and Kellin tried to get himself on the other side again. Finally dropping to his feet, he thanked the fans that had cleared a space for him before rushing off to find Rowan. He still felt ill, the acid burning his throat.

“Stop it!” she argued, pulling her arm out of the man’s grasp. Kellin entered the tent just in time to see Rowan battling against the medic’s attempts to check her blood pressure, eventually winning as the medic threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Vic, this is ridiculous, I’m totally fine.”

Kellin’s eyes felt heavy as he saw her sitting in Vic’s lap, his efforts to keep her seated evident in his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. “Ro, just chill. Let the guy do his job, if you’re really fine then it’s not gonna hurt you to relax.”

“What are you doing back here?” Rowan snapped, her blood pressure now being taken by the annoyed medic, and because of the circumstances of the night prior, it took Kellin a full minute to realize she’d turned to address him.

“I– I–” he stuttered, his heart in his throat, pushing down the nausea. “To check on you, of course.”

“Tell him I don’t want to see him,” Rowan said, now speaking only to Vic as she twisted her torso to look at him.

“Rowan,” Vic chided, embarrassed for his friend as Rowan lashed out. “You can tell him yourself, don’t act like a child.”

Rowan huffed, “I won’t speak to him at all unless he finishes his set.”

Kellin had slowly come to stand a few feet from the pair when she said this, freezing him in place. Did that mean if he did that she’d talk to him? “I just want to know you’re okay.”

“Physically, I’m fine,” Rowan retorted, her posture stiffening as Kellin knelt to her height. Vic’s arms had loosened by a fraction and she attempted to get out of the grasp altogether, causing him to hold on again to keep her stationary. Rowan knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to tell her he was sending her back to California on the first flight, sending her off to some orphanage. She couldn’t take hearing that now. She hadn’t had enough time to find something to release the pain with, she wasn’t strong enough to hear this now. She wasn’t numb enough, it was all too fresh and real.

“Ro–” Kellin began, but she turned her nose up away from him and he sighed. “I’ll go finish the set if you promise to talk to me after this.”

“Tell Kellin to finish the set for his fans, not me,” Rowan argued, now talking to the girl in the chair beside her.

“Uh,” Morgan blanched, looking awkwardly between Rowan and her idol. “She said… she wants you to do it for the fans?”

“Rowan, I need to speak with you. Can you please stop acting so immature right now,” Kellin’s eyes were hard as they bore into the side of her head. She remained looking at the girl rather than her father.

“Please tell him that if he wants me to act like an adult he’ll have to do it first,” Rowan told Morgan calmly, her own dark eyes lifeless.

“She… says… Wait, do I really have to?” Morgan asked, obviously uncomfortable with saying such harsh things to a man she barely knew but adored.

Kellin shook his head, a small smile pasted on for her comfort as he replied, “No, it’s fine. Thanks, but you don’t have to indulge her childish behavior.”

Rowan scoffed but otherwise ignored Kellin. Vic rolled his eyes at the whole situation, wanting nothing more than to lock them in a room together until they stopped behaving like toddlers and acknowledged the fact that they needed one another.

“I’m gonna go finish the set,” Kellin relented, knowing that acquiescing to the simple request would do him better than fighting with Rowan when she was still clearly pissed. “I’ll see you when I’m done, sweetheart.”

Morgan watched in mingled envy and confusion as Kellin placed one hand on the back of her head and guided her close enough to kiss her forehead lightly. Rowan’s eyes remained steady and sharp, but Morgan could see the glisten of wet lashes as Kellin stood, sighed, and left them.

“That was pretty cold,” Vic told Rowan softly, not wanting to alienate her but feeling like she needed to own up to her own actions.

Rowan tried yet again to release herself from his arms but he just turned her so that she sat sideways, her knees now facing Morgan and her shoulder against his chest. Rowan resented her body for being so easy to lift, wishing she had enough strength to push herself off. “I felt perfectly toasty, thanks.”

“Ro,” he chastised again, his tone almost pleading with her to be sensible. Rowan looked instead to Morgan, a small smile on her lips.

“This is Morgan,” Rowan told Vic, changing the topic with the smoothness of sandpaper. “She’s cool.”

Vic, never one to disappoint the fans, smiled as kindly as he could at her, “Nice to meet you, Morgan. I’m Vic. Rowan’s uncle.”

Morgan balked again, her mouth opening and closing like a dying fish as she tried to respond. “H– Hi, yeah. I know you. I mean, uh, nice to meet you.”

“We’re gonna go check out other bands now,” Rowan announced, hearing Sleeping With Sirens’ set starting back up nearby. “If I’m fine to go?” she asked the medic. He sighed and shrugged, not having found anything particularly out of the ordinary.

“Your heart rate’s up and your skin looks… raw. Be sure to drink a lot of water and reapply sunscreen often,” he informed her, though it was going in one ear and out the other.

“Thanks, doc,” Rowan replied hopping off Vic’s lap as he released her. Vic was torn. Happy that she’d made a friend of sorts, but more concerned than ever.

“Who were you with, Ro? No one in Get Scared called to tell me you’d be in a crowd.”

“I was just going to stop in for a second, I was going right back to them,” she told him, folding her arms across her chest in aggravation. “It’s not a big deal.”

Vic’s eyes slid uneasily to Morgan, smiling stalely again. He didn’t want to embarrass Rowan but she wasn’t taking the situation seriously enough. “Look,” he started, sighing, “why don’t I get Morgan a backstage pass and you two can come hang with me and Tony side-stage?”

Rowan narrowed her eyes at him, feeling Morgan’s palpable disbelief and exaltation. “That was a low blow,” she muttered to him as Morgan squealed in excitement, knowing that she couldn’t now deny this girl the thrill she’d only dreamed of. Now Rowan would be stuck under careful observation for the rest of the day. It was twisted that he chose to do this in front of a fan. Now if Rowan refused she’d be crushing Morgan.

“I just thought it’d be fun,” he shrugged nonchalantly, his fake grin still torquing his lips. Morgan was practically crying of happiness and all Rowan could feel was frustration. Still, she knew better than to fight now. She’d put up with one more day of surveillance to make the girl’s life.

“Whatever,” Rowan complied, holding her hands up in a sign of surrender. She pulled her hard pass out from where she’d tucked it into her shirt and gave Morgan a weak grin. “Let’s go. Who do you wanna see first, Morgan?”

Morgan could sense the tension. “We don’t have to go with Vic if you don’t want to,” she offered, not wishing to cause a problem.

“Nah, he’s alright,” Rowan tried to joke, though it was hard, “if not we can just boot him off the island.”

Morgan giggled, “I wanted to see Issues? And Of Mice & Men. And, um, Bring Me The Horizon! Oh, and Black Veil Brides, and All Time Low! And–”

Rowan chuckled, “Well, we better get a move on then.”

∞
“So then I got detention, for the fifth time that week! But it’s not my fault, you know? Because I have perfect grades and I work, like, really hard. But I can’t hold my tongue if I see someone being literally bullied by a teacher. That’s insane. We have to deal with enough of that from the other students! Anyway, I was banned from going to the Halloween Dance last year. Which isn’t that big of a deal, because, like, who gets excited about a dance in seventh grade anyway? All the boys in my grade are so dumb and immature, I don’t even like anyone. There was this one boy I’ve had a crush on since first grade but he started using hairspray and Axe last year and now he doesn’t even talk to me anymore. Which, I mean, I don’t even care about. It’s whatever, you know? But it just sucks because I have to essentially wait until I start high school to meet any guys. Since the two middle schools join up for high school there’ll be some boys I haven’t met yet. Hopefully there’ll be at least one attractive guy. Is it really that hard for two attractive to get together and make an attractive baby boy? Really?”

Morgan spoke softly but quickly. Rowan got the feeling she didn’t have many people to talk to and she therefore listened to her prattle on. It wasn’t annoying really, she just wished they weren’t being followed every step of the way by Vic and Tony.

It had been about two hours since Rowan had seen Kellin. He’d run off stage to find his daughter and Morgan standing side-stage with Vic and a few others. Morgan had been beaming, but Rowan’s shoulders were slumped and her eyes told him she desired nothing more than to be far away from here. He’d gone up to her but stopped himself, now wasn’t the time to talk. He could make himself wait. She needed space and he respected that. She wanted to hang out with her new friend. He was wary, seeing as the last time she met someone her age she’d disappeared from him both physically and emotionally for two days. But Vic promised to stay close by, he’d already performed earlier that day and he was free until the end of the day when he’d sing A Love Like War with All Time Low.

Rowan had so far watched Issues, Bring Me The Horizon, and Tonight Alive. She’d stayed half-hidden behind equipment to avoid being spotted by Jenna, ashamed of her actions, but Morgan hadn’t noticed. The girl’s emerald orbs sparkled as she got the experience of a lifetime. Rowan made a mental note to download more Issues and Bring Me stuff to her phone, she enjoyed both bands thoroughly. Now they were walking together to see Black Veil Brides, Morgan chatting easily which as actually a relief to Rowan as she hadn’t a clue of how to make conversation with a girl her age.

“Sorry,” Morgan said as they mounted to stage’s stairs after another tale about how her Science teacher despised her, her cheeks pink beneath the smattering of freckles. Rowan saw she toyed with the pendant necklace pinched between her fingers whenever she got awkward or embarrassed, it was something she’d been doing since she first saw Kellin up close. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my trivial problems.”

“No, no,” Rowan rushed, feeling guilty that she’d been zoning out and not listening to her, “it’s not that at all. Your life is honestly fascinating to me. My head’s just a little messed up today.” More like everyday, she added privately.

“Please,” Morgan shot back, her eyes wide as they came to the side where they’d stand for the duration of the set, “my life? You’re joking. Mine’s so boring, but your life? That’s fascinating.”

Rowan responded with a small scoff-laugh. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be,” she replied, surly and sullen. Immediately she began to admonish herself for thinking such a thing. She’d better be grateful as hell right now, she thought reprovingly, soon it would be gone and she’d miss even the worst moments.

“Yeah, I noticed something was up earlier…” Morgan began, her voice as light and sweet as a child picking up a china doll. “Do you mind me asking what that was?”

Rowan paused, contemplating trusting this girl with even an ounce of the truth. On one hand, Rowan was busting at the seams, needing desperately to vent her frustrations to anyone not considered a ‘relative’ or ‘family friend’. On the other hand, she didn’t want to seem bratty or ungrateful and ruin Morgan’s image of Kellin. She was a fan, and Rowan knew better than anyone how much it hurt to see the darker sides of someone you looked up to.

“Sorry again,” Morgan said, tripping over her words as another blush heated her face, her eyes now studying the techs readying the instruments. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“It’s just… I don’t know, I just don’t want you to think badly of me,” Rowan admitted, looking over her shoulder to make sure Tony and Vic weren’t in direct listening-range.

“I won’t,” Morgan said, her tone final. But Rowan doubted that. “I’m… not the best at talking to strangers honestly. I know, shocker, seeing as I’ve been talking your ear off for, like, two hours. But really, I’m usually pretty shy. I guess I just feel like you’d understand or something? Sorry if that sounds weird.”

Rowan was beginning to think Morgan’s cheeks would be permanently stained as red as her locks. She smiled, a small but genuine smile. “It’s not weird. I get it. I’m the same I guess. I just got into a… fight with Kellin– I mean, my father. I just don’t think I’m ready to forgive him yet. Or even talk about forgiving him.”

“That’s okay,” Morgan said consolingly, but it felt real, not put-on. “When I fight with my mom it gets crazy. Like, we love each other and since my dad passed away when I was a baby we’re all each other has, so we’re really tight. But we also fight a lot. And it’s usually something so small and banal that, like, snowballs into something way bigger. And I hate talking about it after to, like, make up and everything. I hate admitting I’m wrong or talking about how I feel. But in the end you’re only hurting yourself by keeping it all pent-up. Don’t forgive people to make them feel better or take it off their shoulders, forgive people to free yourself.”

Rowan contemplated her words, really letting them sink in. She felt the wisdom was beyond Morgan’s thirteen years, a thought that made the kinship stronger as Rowan was often told she held the same head on her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said quietly, her own cheeks crimson.

Morgan smiled in return, “Anytime.”

“I have to know…” Rowan paused, she wasn't entirely sure she did have to know, but she was curious, “did you know who I was?”

“To be honest, no,” Morgan told her, her freckled features drawn into a sheepish expression. “I knew Kellin had a baby, but I didn’t know he had an older daughter. How old are you? Because Kellin’s not that old, right? Sorry again for prying. Forget I asked–”

“It’s fine,” Rowan interrupted, “I’m thirteen. I’m adopted…” She wasn’t sure how much else she was comfortable with telling the girl, but that was enough of the truth to answer her questions. “I guess I thought most people knew by now.”

“I don’t have social media, my mom’s pretty strict about it. But I’m glad. I mean, I’m happy for you, that you got adopted by someone who obviously cares very much for you.” Morgan stumbled through the words, obviously trying to avoid offending Rowan.

In a way, Rowan was relieved. It meant that at least Morgan had chosen to take her hand without trying to get something out of it. On the other hand, it reminded Rowan how was it would be to erase her existence from SWS’s fanbase if Kellin chose to do so. Lost in her head, Rowan could only manage a small smile and a “thank you”.

“Rowan!”

She spun around to see Andy jogging toward her, a smile lighting his features. He scooped her off her feet, much to Rowan’s chagrin, and hugged her tightly.

“You scared us all half to death last night, kid!” he mumbled into her shoulder, cutting Rowan’s giggle short. He set her down, still smirking broadly. “What’s this little rebel gotten herself into now, huh? I heard you went on a date?”

Rowan felt her stomach turn over painfully as he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, unaware of the inner turmoil he was causing. To distract herself and Andy, Rowan pointed to Morgan, “This is my friend, Morgan. She has your face on her wall.”

Morgan, her cheeks the darkest red yet, smacked Rowan’s shoulder roughly, “I told you that in confidence!”

“You told me that around a mouthful of Skittles, that hardly counts as a binding contract,” Rowan replied dryly, smirking as Andy’s attention was diverted easily to his fan.

“Nice to meet you, Morgan. Wanna take a picture?” he offered, and Morgan instantly forgot about being annoyed with Rowan, nodding her head vigorously. “Selfie style? Or do you want Ro to take it?”

“Um, Rowan, do you mind?” Morgan asked, her eyes shining. Rowan nodded, smiling at the sight of the girl so thrilled. Rowan took Morgan’s camera and snapped a few pictures, for good measure, and one of them making silly faces. The camera was just placed back into Morgan’s hands when Rowan was lifted from the ground once again.

Being held over someone’s shoulder, Rowan blew her long bangs out of her eyes as they fell from her bun, “Dammit, don’t any of you know that I have two feet and excellent equilibrium for a reason?”

The chuckled response was from CC, “Yeah, but that’s no fun. You know what’s fun?”

And then they were moving, CC making cheesy jet-engine sounds as they ran from one side of the stage to the other, fans in the waiting crowd screaming at the sight. Rowan was laughing loudly, bouncing on his shoulder as CC made sharp turns and jumps. Finally she was set on her feet again but she was unsteady, reminding herself again that she had yet to eat. That was fine. That was good. Empty was good. Empty was winning. So she didn’t stop giggling as she grabbed onto CC’s hand to steady herself, both of them breathless.

“You’re right, feet are overrated,” she told him, laughing harder still. “Ceese, this is Morgan.”

“You know, CC is already a nickname–” he replied cattily, but Rowan rolled her eyes and shoved him in the side enough to make him lose his balance.

“Oh, shut up! I made a nickname out of a nickname! I’m awesome like that!”

“Nick-name-ception!” Morgan blurted, then immediately blanched again, “That was dumb.”

Andy, Rowan, and CC all cracked up, finally putting Morgan out of her misery when CC offered his hand to her and reigned in his chuckles, “Nah, that was epic.”

“Guys, you’re on in three!” Andy nodded to Kenny, the stage manager, and winked at Rowan.

“You’re gonna tell me about the boy who stole your heart eventually!” he teased, hugging her quickly before CC followed suit, both of them hugging a giddy Morgan afterward, “For now, have fun, kid.”

“You too, old man,” Rowan retorted, her hands on her hips as they ran off to find the rest of the band and get ready. Rowan felt the moment of beatific euphoria wearing off quickly but fought to remain strong, at least on the outside. Just a few more hours.

The afternoon passed quickly and soon they were standing side-stage with their hired guards—Vic and Tony—for the final band of the night. Rowan had spoken to Morgan more than once about things she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. But, oddly enough, Morgan seemed to understand. She’d accepted the fact that Rowan wasn’t perfect, nor was her idolized father, but it didn’t deter her from offering her friendship and advice. Morgan had even gone so far as to share with Rowan her dream of one day having a tattoo that read ‘Carpe Diem’, and in turn Rowan divulged her private wish to one day be covered in tattoos. Of course, there were plenty of things Rowan was unwilling to speak about to a soul, but to get things off her chest in any capacity was more than she’d been willing to do that morning. Morgan was genuine, she assured Rowan that it didn't matter who her father was, she just admired Rowan as a person. Rowan was still wary, but she couldn’t deny that she wanted it to be real.

As the set wrapped up, Vic joining them for the finale, Rowan felt sad to see Morgan leave. She walked with her to the gate that led from the backstage area to the general admittance exit, hugging Morgan kindly.

“You’ve got my number,” she said, her smile just as forlorn as Rowan’s. “Call me, text me. I’d love to keep in touch.”

“We will,” Rowan promised, “I hope you had a good day.”

“Are you kidding?” Morgan said, tears filling her eyes, “It was the best day of my life. And thanks to you too, Vic and Tony.”

They waved from behind Rowan and said their own goodbyes. Too soon, Morgan was walking out through the gates, sparing one last look over her shoulder as tears slid down her smiling cheeks.

Rowan spun back to Vic, her shoulders suddenly heavier as she could no longer avoid the truth of her situation. In a way, she now wanted to run to Kellin with open arms, hearing Morgan’s story about the pain of visiting her father’s grave every year had reminded Rowan just how lucky she’d been to have a second chance at a happy family. But she’d fucked that up for herself, now she had to live with the consequences. She couldn’t run to him. At least not for comfort.

“Kellin wanted me to call when we’re on our way back to the bus,” Vic reported, pulling his phone from his back pocket before Rowan halted in their path back to the buses, her gaze edged as she locked eyes with him.

“No,” she said simply, surprising Vic.

“What do you mean?” Vic asked, Tony nervously looking between the two.

“I mean I’m not going to talk to him,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You said earlier that you would,” Vic argued, trying to keep his voice calm and his head level.

“Well, I changed my mind,” she said shortly, “I’ll stay with Motionless again.”

“Just go talk to him, you’ve made him suffer the whole day, I think you made your point,” Vic practically begged.

“My point? And what exactly was my point?” Rowan bit back, her tone raw and ragged.

“That you’re pissed, that you’re hurt, that he owes you an apology…” Vic explained, and Rowan looked away from him quickly, glaring into the distance.

“That’s not why I’m refusing to talk to him.”

“Then what is the reason?” Tony cut in, making himself known for the first time in a while.

Rowan’s eyes met his, “That I know what he’s going to say. And I… I’m not ready to deal with it.”

“You don’t know what he’ll say, just give him a chance. If you really don’t like what he says then you can stay with us for the night,” Tony chipped in, but Rowan remained adamant.

“You can’t ignore him for the rest of the tour, you’re bound to see him tons and you’re eventually going to have to talk to him,” Vic reasoned.

“Then I’ll deal with that when it happens,” she huffed. Vic’s gaze didn’t stray from hers, the pressure weighing on her heavily. Rowan made a big show of rolling her eyes. “If I go talk to him will you two go get in your bus and stop helicopter-parenting me, moms?”

Vic almost feinted with relief, “Yes, yes, yes. I’m so glad, Rowan. I’m so proud of you. If you feel uncomfortable or want to escape, just call us. We’ll pull over and pick you up in a heartbeat.”

Vic stooped to hug her, the alleviating thought of her finally speaking to Kellin was enough to send him running. Rowan pointed dramatically toward their bus, “Go. I’m not moving until I see your tanned butts in that giant green eyesore!”

“Hey, no hating the Booger,” Tony joked, but Rowan simply quirked a brow at him, pointing at their bus demandingly. Vic and Tony bowed in exaggerated deference, making Rowan crack the smallest of smirks. They marched off to the nearby bus, eliciting a slight giggle from the tiny girl bossing them around. They waved before entering, Vic’s eyes soft and grateful. Rowan felt guilty again but tried to hide it with a smile and a wave in return.

It wasn’t like she was doing something stupid. She wasn’t running away, as she’d tried to do the night before. She wasn’t going to kill herself, something about today had changed her mind on that idea. She just wasn’t going to talk to Kellin right then. She was… taking a detour? It was just a few more hours. She needed a few more hours of blissful ignorance. She’d spend one more night with Motionless. She hoped they wouldn’t mind… She’d actually sleep on the floor tonight if need be.

The buses nearest her were pulling out, driving off the lot. Rowan moved hurriedly, finally finding the bus she’d been after. Only… this wasn’t Motionless In White’s bus. Rowan called Chris but it went to voicemail. She began to run down the row of remaining buses, her heart pounding as she didn’t recognize a single one. And they were all leaving! Even PTV’s bus was now off in the distance, followed by the last truck of stage and tent pieces. There were only a handful of busses left at the other end of the lot and Rowan pushed herself to run after them, hoping at least one was a band she knew.

As she was half a football field away, the last two buses flicked on their engines.

“Wait!” she screamed with all her might, “No! Wait for me! Wait!”

They couldn’t hear her. And there she was, panting and calling after the last chance at salvation. Rowan tried to call Vic but found she had no signal. She was dizzy, a day of refusing to eat or drink catching up with her all at once.

“Fuck!” she screamed out, desperate for Kellin to somehow sense her distress and whip back around to get her. But no one came. Rowan wandered around the venue, checking her phone for signal. She’d gotten texts and calls all day, surely not every call had needed the tour’s booster. There would be at least a bar somewhere.

Two hours had passed when Rowan climbed two large dumpsters, standing on the top. She shivered despite to the warm weather, caused instead by her own panic. She lifted her phone as high as it would go and managed to get two bars!

“Thank fuck,” she muttered, squinting in the pitch blackness as she pressed Vic’s contact.

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. “Yo, yo, yo, Fuentes Squared comin’ atcha.” Rowan snorted at the sound of Vic and Mike’s voices trying to sound gangster. “Leave it at the beep, it better rhyme or we’ll come an’ getcha!” Beep. She hung up.

Rowan sighed deeply, her heart thundering as she slowly readied herself to do what she needed to. This was serious. It didn’t matter what he said to her, she’d rather have a moment with him and be shipped off than be left here forever. With wavering confidence, Rowan’s finger hovered over the Call button. Just press it.

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. “Hey, this is Kellin. Leave a voicemail and I’ll call back if you’re cool enough.” Beep.

Rowan hung up, not knowing what to say. She just needed someone to answer. “Fuck!” she cursed yet again, yanking her fingers roughly through her hair, tugging on the ends roughly.
She tried again, not knowing who to dial. Johnny had given her his number… it was worth a shot.

Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Rowan almost hung up, but at the last second a scratchy voice answered. “You’re not the bus-fixer-company-thingy so whoever’s calling me right now better be down for phone sex.”

“What?” Rowan spluttered, her ears hot.

“Oh shit– Rowan? I was totally kidding,” Johnny mumbled sleepily. “Hi, what time is it?”

“Uh…” Rowan pulled the phone from her ear to see it was 12:14AM. Also, she only had six percent battery. “Quarter past twelve,” she muttered, “I need help.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice suddenly much more alert.

“I’m stuck,” she replied, folding her legs and sitting on the metal lid of the bin.

“How so?” he pressed, sleep still fogging his brain.

“I got left. I’m stuck at the venue. It’s dark and my phone’s about to die and I’m sitting on a giant dumpster and I haven’t eaten in a while so I’m getting a little loopy and…” her voice broke as the tears began to build up. This was actually happening. She had been left behind. It was no longer a suspicion, it was now confirmed that she meant nothing to them.

“Dammit,” he cursed after a small bang—he’d hit his head, she surmised. “Okay, don’t worry. Our bus broke down just as we started out so we're less than half an hour from you. They're fixing the bus now I think and it'll be done in– Hey, hey, Nick. What time will they be done with the bus?”

“Whuh? Uh, like twenty minutes I think?” Rowan heard Nick mumble on the other end, clearly still tired.

“Shit, I don’t want you alone that long. I'm gonna call a cab and just come pick you up, then we’ll meet up with the bus and be on our way. Okay?” Rowan sniffled, shutting her eyes tightly as images of the first Warped Tour barbecue flooded her brain. She wanted to hold Kellin’s hand right now. She wanted to be protected by him. She was so alone, so deserted. She felt the isolation enveloping her. She nodded, then realized he couldn’t see her, but her sniffle had been enough of a response. “You’ll be fine, don’t worry. Just stay where you are. Try to stay calm. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay,” she breathed unevenly, her body already convulsing with the sobs she choked back. “Okay.”

“See you soon, kid.”

And with that, he hung up. And Rowan was utterly solitary. Whatever vestiges of strength she’d clung to in order to survive the day, she felt them dwindling rapidly. Left with only her twisted thoughts and darkest dreams to contemplate, Rowan considered the fact that she was very unsafe. Not because of the fact that she could be snatched by a psycho at any moment, but rather because she felt she had nothing left to live for if Kellin wasn’t in her life. In only a few weeks she’d forgotten entirely how it felt to live every day miserable, to ache for companionship but keep everything that breathes at a safe distance, to bottle up her every thought and emotion until it all came spewing from her in the form of horrid acts performed upon her own body. She couldn’t remember what had given her the will to survive it all, she now considered the Quinn’s as her only true motivation. She needed them so much that it scared her. And now, at the thought of being without them, she was terrified.

‘Please,’ she chanted internally, tremors rocking her small frame as she swallowed back her tears, ‘hurry, Johnny. I can’t take this much longer.’

Notes

Hello, again! I hope you liked this chapter. I tried to offer a small reprieve from the heavy lately, giving you a taste of how Rowan's progressing by way of learning to get to know others, in particular-others her own age.

I had so many amazing suggestions for the character profile, but for the purposes of this chapter, I welcomed Morgan, a character created by _oceandust via Wattpad! I hope you all like her, she was there for Rowan in a new way which I found fun to explore.

Rowan's story is happening so fast now, I feel her growing so much in some ways and crumbling in others... She has so much weight on her shoulders, she needs Kellin to help her hold it all up. Hopefully she'll remember that soon.

What do you think is in store?

There are only five chapters left in this book... is it just me or does that feel unreal?! Don't worry, we're far from saying goodbye to Rowan. She has so much more to say, so much more to do... but she won't have it easy.

My Answer from last chapter's question: I relate to Rowan in so so so many ways. I relate to her feelings of isolation and her desire to find a place to fit, but yet the fear of trusting anyone enough to actually invest myself in that place of safety. I have her snarky personality but also her vulnerability. And much more, but there you go.

Chapter Question: What are your favorite bad day songs? (The ones that make it all better, or make it okay for it to just suck.)

Thank you all, each and every one, so much,

MM xx

[ps. my sister wants to know how you feel about Weiner Dogs... (please don't ask for a back story... she's weird)...]