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“No,” I admitted, “it might also have something to do with the fact that apparently one of the other media people tried to get the travel coordinator to move her flight to get on their plane.”
“Why?”
I shrugged. “If I had to guess, she was trying to score an off-the-books interview.”
“Sounds like a good way to get kicked off the tour,” she said sceptically.
“Yes, but I also kind of admire the balls on her.”
Becka laughed, and for a few moments I allowed myself to relax, and forget about what had been weighing on me all week.
“I see that look, babes,” Becka narrowed her eyes. “How are you doing? Really?”
I blew out a breath. “I mean, yeah. It’s weird,” I shrugged. “But I’m dealing with it,” I said plainly.
“Sure?”
“Becka, I haven’t really seen him, other than in a few public settings.” I hadn’t told her about the panic attack he’d had on the bus, and I wouldn’t. Somethings didn’t need to be dissected.
Becka’s mouth twisted. “Okay. If you say so. How’s the actual job?”
“I like it,” I admitted. “It feels like my favourite things colliding. The music, and the writing. It’s like, I have this huge opportunity to tell the world about this thing I love.”
“Weren’t you doing that before?”
I frowned, trying to put the difference into words. “Yes, and no. It’s the difference between listening to an album and being at the concert. One is a flat kind of experience, even if the album is great; the other is like… visceral. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do. I love writing about the industry, and the people, but this – being in the middle of it? It feels…” I searched for the word, discarding several that felt too sappy, and eventually settled on, “awesome. It’s awesome.” It was everything, but I didn’t say that out loud.
“Aww babes. I love that for you. But are you at least being fairly paid?”
“Becka, I was having a moment!”
“I said I loved it for you!” She laughed, and I rolled my eyes.
“By press standards, yeah, it’s okay. More than Frequency paid me, not even including the daily travel allowances.”
Becka whistled when I discreetly told her the figure.
“No rent, comped food, babes you’re living the dream!”
And all that to say nothing of the huge career bump this entire tour would be.
“Honestly, Becka. This is kind of peak. I’m… fuck. I’m happy.”
Becka’s entire face softened. “You deserve this, babes. You’ve earned it.”
“Yeah, I have,” I grumbled, and she laughed again.
We fell into an easy silence for a few moments. I studied the face of my best friend. And then she opened her mouth.
“So, when are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room? No pressure, but like… today, tomorrow…?”
“There aren’t any. This is an airport. They wouldn’t get through security.”
“Funny! You know what I meant.”
“Sorry Becka, gotta go, my plane’s being called, bye!”
“Wait, bish!”
