“You got it.”

Well, if there was one thing I knew how to be, it was someone’s friend. I could do it.

I could.

Chapter Twelve

Carter and I high-fived each other the moment we finished loading up our bins onto the dolly. Tonight had been the last show of the North American tour in Philadelphia, and we were all in a great mood. Ghost Orchid had sold close to five grand in merch, which meant I'd made five hundred dollars. I couldn’t believe it.

Something else I couldn’t wrap my head around: how much money Carter had possibly made, considering his line was usually twice as long as mine. It must have been enough that my quiet, pensive friend was grinning from ear to ear, and he’d given me three side-hugs in the time we’d torn down our setup.

Part One of the Rhythm & Chord Tour was over.

It didn't matter that I'd been tired and restless lately, and over the last few days hornier than a virgin reading erotica since I hadn't had any privacy; I was relieved and excited that this leg of touring was complete. And I had money. I'd spent so little over the last six weeks because we really never did much. If the venue didn't cater, the money I got from buy-outs was more than enough for me to buy lunch and groceries for breakfast and dinner.

We were going to have three days off between tonight and when we left for Australia.

Australia. I was finally going, and I was pretty damn excited.

"Do you want to go shower while I load up?" Carter asked as we passed by the back area where the dressing rooms were.

The venue was one of the few that had showers, and we'd all agreed to get cleaned up before we got on the bus. The Cloud Collision’s record label was stationed in Philadelphia and they were throwing an end-of -tour party/delayed CD release celebration at a club for them. I wasn't much of a partygoer, but everyone was going.

"Sure. Hurry and I'll save the shower for you," I told him, and he nodded in agreement.

I grabbed my backpack and ran over to the two separate bathrooms that each had a shower stall inside. Only one of the two doors was closed, so I darted through the empty doorway and stripped, showering and shaving as quickly as possible. I slipped on the dark purple dress I'd bought that afternoon after Eli so eloquently told me that I couldn't go out dressed like a hobo. I put on some make-up, twisted my wet hair over one shoulder, put all my stuff back into my bag, and peeped my head out of the bathroom to find that Carter was sitting on the floor right outside, with Julian and Isaiah standing about five feet away in the middle of a conversation.

"Your turn, bud," I told my newly bald friend.

He grinned at me, the piercing on his bottom lip winking at me as he jumped up, stealthy like a cat, and slid into the bathroom at the same time I slipped out. Julian had apparently still not forgiven me for the Brandon thing so I wasn’t surprised when he looked at me with zero emotion. Isaiah on the other hand.... I pulled my dress down even as I smiled at him. The material was riding up my legs so much when I walked that I wondered how slim my chances were that I wouldn't show off my green underwear at some point. The problem had been that I’d only had twenty minutes to shop before I had to head back to the venue, and the choices hadn’t been that great: too much cleavage or possible crotch-shots. Look like a hooker or look like a hooker.

I went with the latter.

The fourth person I saw on my way out was my brother, who was already dressed and typing on his phone. He happened to glance up, and glanced back down for a second before he looked up again.

"What the fuck, Flabby? You working the corner tonight, or what?" he cried, pointing at my dress.

"Shut your mouth," I groaned. He did this every single time I wore something that was more than two inches above my knee.