“I hate you guys!” I slam the door of our bus shut.

“Whoa. Did Satan crawl up your ass and died?” I glare at Brendon.

“That’s what’s wrong with you all! You think it’s okay to toy with a girls emotions!” I yell.

“But what did we-”

“Shut up Adele!” he obeyed my command. “You all think it’s okay to completely treat a girl like garbage then come to her to tell her you don’t like her! what goes through yall minds sometimes? What sex?!” my band looks at each other before nodding. “I hate all of you! Why can’t boys just perish from the earth!” They slump further down in their seat. “I hate you all!” I run to my bunk and yank down my bag. Stripping free of Shayley's clothes and the bikini, I put on fresh underwear and a bra and change clothes. Slipping a change of clothes, I put on my Galaxy Vans and stalk out. Taking my phone and wallet I slam the tour bus door again and walk out of the park.

Grumbling to myself, I began my walk into town.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Oh, just what I need.

“Go away Andy.”

“No. Your band is looking for you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Gwen,”

“Jesus Andy, fuck off!!” I begin to walk faster. Stupid Alan and his stupid relationships problems. Why can’t he just fuck himself? It would do us all good.

“I don’t think I can do that.” I turn to glare at him. He grabs my wrist and glares at me. I try to pull free, but he just tightens his grip. “What’s gotten into you?” He snaps.

“Life.” I pull my wrist away.

“Gwen,” I start to run away. I just want to be alone. Is that too much to ask for? I run towards the nearest store and slam the door shut behind me.

“Hi, welcome to Aspire, what kind of tattoo are you looking for today?”
I turn around to face the lady. She had long red hair and looked nice enough. When she looked at my face, her eyes widen.

“Y-Y-You’re Gwen Victory from Mandalay! I love you guys’ music.” I smile.

“Thank you.”

“So, what kind of tattoo are you looking for?”

“No! I was-well,” I study the different designs. I needed a way to waste time. “Can you do a hand design in under two hours?”

“Of course,” I smile to myself.

---

“Ouch, ouch, oh this hurts.” I stumbled onto my bus and close the door.

“Where the hell have you’ve been?” that did not sound like my band. I turned around and my band was cowered in fear on one side of the bus while Andy sat on the couch looking pissed as ever.

“I went to the store.” I lied.

“Oh really. Why is there a wrap on your hand?” I tried to stand up straight so he wasn’t towering over me, but failed when my hand began to throb against the door. “You got a tattoo?” Andy gasped at me.

“Andy chill. I’ll be able to perform.” He rolls his eyes.

“You left to go get tattoos! What kind of example are you setting for our daughter?!” I shake my head and laugh.

“Oh, don’t you dare go there.” I snarl.

“Go where? The truth?”

“Oh. My. God. Andy, I am 23 years old. If I want to get a tattoo then I can! I gave up all my fun to raise Belle and now it’s a crime to have fun?”

“If you wanted to have fun when you were a teenager you shouldn’t have never gotten pregnant!” he yells.

“Oh. So it’s my fault I got pregnant?”

“It sure isn’t mine.”

“Well, somebodies sperm got me pregnant and if it wasn’t you, then who’s then?”

“Oh grow up.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“That’s right, cause your mother hates you.”

“GET OUT!!!!” I yell I straighten up and push him off my bus, despite the pain. “You better watch yourself Andy.” I snap. He gets off the ground and looks at me.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He says.

“Try me.” I snarl before slamming the door in his face. I sniffle and walk towards the front lounge.

“Come here Gwen.” I walk towards Adele, sitting in his lap and sigh, snuggling up closer to his chest. I sigh because the one time I want to feel like a teenager, a life that I gave up for touring and motherhood, it all of a sudden becomes a crime. And what he said was true. My mother does hate me and there’s nothing to do about it.

What kind of mother am I? I let one bully get in my way and I’ve turned into a bad mother and I just gotten in the worse fight ever. How am Andy and I supposed to get over this? We promised we wouldn’t let anything get in the way of our friendship and parenthood. If I were Andy, I wouldn’t even talk to me anymore.

“Well, this marks me for Worst Friend-slash-Parent So Far” I spoke into his chest. “I would hate me if I were Belle and Andy.”

“Shhhh. Don’t say that.” Lucas rubs my back.

“Sometimes I feel like letting go. I want to be alone, but yet, I don’t want to be alone.” I sob. Adele rocks me back and forth while Brendon hums, his red hair being my only view. I can’t believe this. 23 years I’ve known Andy and this is the first fight we’ve ever had. I can’t lose him. I can’t.
I sigh again, but the air gets caught in my throat and I cough, but it wouldn’t go through.

I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breath.

“Gwen? Gwen!” Brendon starts to shake me. Black splotches invade my vision and tiny red spots enclose me. I can’t even hear. I might as well be under water. “Gwen!”

“She’s having an anxiety attack!”

“Check her pulse!”

“Please don’t die Gwen.”

“What the hell is this on her wrists?”

“Holy shit, are those splotches on her wrists?”

“Why are they red?”

“Guys, her neck, it’s turning red!”

I felt like my body was burning from the inside out. My neck was burning and I was just dying for water. Or something cold. My arms felt like balloons that had too much air. I moved my hands to my neck and felt something that wasn’t there yesterday.

A lump.

Notes