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Oh well, I’m not coddling her the way everyone else does. If she wants to work on this song, it should be with people who will tell her if it sucks or not.
Swallowing hard, she shrugs as if she doesn’t care either way. Draven’s fingers twitch as Layla brushes past us, and he ties back the curtains as if they were bothering him. Instead, I can tell that he’s starting to obsess about the baby chick, and the last time he was involved with anyone ended in an accidental overdose.
Fuck, I’m an asshole.
Mav glances at me for a moment, and for some reason it makes me wonder if we even have our instruments on the bus. I’m so used to having my things, I didn’t think of that, and Jordan was busy helping us pack up our things this afternoon.
“Atlas,” Tyler hisses as my phone buzzes.
“Yeah,” I respond as I pull it out to check it.
“Don’t ride her too hard today. Layla isn’t… she’s very sensitive about her words and music. It doesn’t come easily to her,” Tyler says softly, his eyes trained on the back bedroom.
“See, I don’t really understand that.” I shrug. “Lennon could always bust out her words and then had us help her with the music. I always knew, though, that the energy of vibing and creating is what fueled her. She didn’t actually need us.”
Opening up my texts, I see that Jordan messaged me.
Jordan: You may be wondering where your instruments are. They’re in the middle storage compartment where the bunks are. I know Layla’s been feeling creative, so she may reach out for help.
I was just wondering about this. Thanks, boss.
I know how to play ball, even though I dislike to bend for others. I used to be pretty easy going, but I don’t have the patience anymore.
“It sounds like the sisters are pretty different, yeah?” Draven says under his breath as Layla comes out with a notebook and her guitar. Unfortunately, she hears him, almost tripping, so Mav has to reach out to catch her.
“Thanks,” she murmurs. As Layla steadies herself she stretches her neck as if getting herself together. When she meets my eyes and shrugs off Mav’s hand, I can see there’s a determined edge there I didn’t see before. This is the girl I first saw at the bar yesterday. The one who didn’t give two fucks what I thought.
“Lennon and I are different people, so it just makes sense we’d act, think, and process things differently,” Layla says haughtily. “I’ve never had to go through any of the things she’s had to, and I’m not unaware of what she’s done to keep me safe.Now that we’ve determined that I’m not, nor ever will be, my big sister’s clone, can we move on?”
“As you wish,” Draven says automatically. He used to tell Lyrica this when he would put his foot in his mouth. Fuck, this girl is just wrapping all of us around her dainty little finger.
Layla walks through the pulled back area, grabbing a bottle of water before she passes Tyler. There’s a sitting room area in the next room, so I figure that’s where she’s headed.
“Jordan stashed our instruments right… here,” I explain, opening doors until I find them. Mav grabs his guitar from me, and I hand Draven a traveling drum set that easily breaks down to fit in a closet like this. It obviously isn’t what he usually plays on, but his eyes light up as he sees he’ll be able to jam whenever he wants.
He’s been extra twitchy lately, and I think this is part of the reason. Music lives in our hearts and blood.
There’s also a traveling keyboard for me, of course, and I bring up the back of our not-so-merry group as I walk behind them all.
“I need your phones and any computers you regularly use, please,” Tyler says as we move into the kitchen area. “Write any passwords or codes I’ll need on this notepad too, so I’m able to do what I need to. I want to put software on it so that you won’t be able to be hacked, and it’ll put you on the same network my associates will be working on from Los Angeles.”
Handing him my phone, I admit that I don’t have a computer. “You sound like Jordan when you say things like that,” I tell him as Draven and Mav walk back into our bunk areas to grab their computers.
Mav usually only uses his computer to video chat with his younger brother and watch movies with me, but it would be best if people can’t eavesdrop on us in any way. It’s hard enough tomaintain our privacy as it is. We’re all more well known in the UK though, so the anonymity here is nice.
“I can do things that would make Jordan wonder if he should rethink his decision to hire me,” Tyler snorts, taking all of our electronics. Glancing at the drum kit, he pulls out ear plugs. “Try not to be a bag of dicks. Bye now.”
He’s the perfect boyfriend. Rolling my eyes as he puts the ear plugs in, I walk into the living area where Layla is curled up on the couch with her guitar plugged into a built-in amplifier.
Fancy.
“There’s a place for you to plug into under the seat across from me, Mav,” she says without looking up. Layla is frowning at her words, and the uncertainty she has is pissing me off.
She yo-yos between being super confident to worrying about whether or not she’s good enough. It’s hurting my head.
“You have until we finish setting up and then I’m ripping your notebook out of your hands, Layla,” I tell her. “Get your shit together and be who you’re supposed to be.”
TYLER
