The next morning was eventful. Knowing Tyler and Nate, the pair would be nursing hangovers until noon while Austin made sure they didn't choke on their own vomit. That left the roadies to hit up the local gym for a couple of hours.

"Man, this sucks." Jordan complained as he lifted a barbell on the press bench. "Why does the band get to sleep in and we're stuck lifting weights at eight o'clock in the morning?"

"You know why," Drew kicked the leg of the press bench as he passed his friend, causing Jordan to nearly drop the weight on himself. "It's our job to lug the equipment around. Being a twink won’t get you far in this job."

Grinning, Jordan flexed with a weight in each hand and admired his physique in the mirror behind him. "I would say I'm a fair while from losing these babies."

Drew pinched Jordan's pecs while his arms were raised and Jordan squeaked in surprise, nearly losing grip on the dumbbells.

"Getting a little soft there. Perhaps you could use the extra few hours, hey?" Drew teased.

"Screw you man, I worked hard for this physique." Jordan shot back, gesturing to his body.

Drew only smirked and loaded another weight onto the end of his barbell.

Placing his own barbell back on the stand behind him, Gabe sat up on the bench and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. "Maybe if you stopped gossiping and actually lifted something every once in a while, you'd have actual biceps."

Jordan laughed. "Whatever man. Most guys actually like my smaller frame." He winked at Gabe.

Drew smirked at Gabe before turning to his friend. "That's just what a dude says when he's trying to make you feel better about your lady boner."

"I'll have you know that my boner is nothing like a lady." Jordan smirked, folding his arms across his chest.

Drew only laughed and flexed his own muscles. "Maybe, but I bet you nut faster than one."

Gabe watched the exchange with fleeting interest, though he couldn't say Drew was wrong. Of the four of them, Drew and Gabe had more muscular builds whilst Ryan and Jordan had leaner frames.

"It doesn't matter," Mark had once said. "They get drunk enough and they won't be able to tell which of you is a twink or not."

Ryan joined the group, sweat clinging to his body as he finished his run. He wiped his face with a towel. "Mark texted. He said the boys were going to be out until noon so we have until then to be back."

Jordan nodded. "You guys wanna grab a bite before heading back?"

The other two agreed but Gabe shook his head, scowling. "I had to drag Nate's drunk-ass back to the hotel at three in the morning, and that was after he threw up all over the sidewalk. I'm going back to the bus."

"Oh c'mon Gabe," Jordan whined. "You never want to go out with us."

"I don't like you."

"He's had a stick up his ass for the past few days." Ryan interjected. "Ignore him, Jordan. He's more bearable after he's been laid."

"I don't have a stick up my ass." Gabe growled. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket as they exited the gym. "I just don't need to deal with your shit while I'm sober."

"Some have sex, others have alcohol." Jordan shrugged. "It's a crazy world for us all."

"Alright Cinderella," Drew rolled his eyes before turning to Gabe. "You sure you don't want to come?"

"I'd rather throw a shot of acid."

Drew saluted him as he and the other two began down the sidewalk. "Alright man, we'll see you back at the bus."

Not bothering to reply, Gabe lit the cigarette and started the other way. He didn't know Chicago well but the gym wasn't far from the hotel where their bus was parked outside.

Flashing his ID to security, he continued through the lobby and out to where the tour bus was parked out of sight from the front of the stadium. With the other three gone, silence greeted Gabe like a warm embrace. He stepped into it lovingly.

The other boys were still at the gym or scattered throughout town. Though the younger boys had a seperate bus, Gabe could still hear the ruckus they made which he had no tolerance for. Silence was a rare and valuable gift.

What wasn't rare was for Tyler and Nate to be crashed out until afternoon after a night of drinking. Touring always brought out the club phase in them. Gabe had at least another three hours of peace left in his day.

Taking his laptop to his bunk, Gabe sat against the wall and positioned the device in his lap. It was an old and beaten computer that took several minutes to start up but when it did, he clicked on the internet browser.

Gabe had never bothered to change his default home page and so a news site pulled up automatically. Based on his browsing history, not that there was much to begin with, the music industry highlights were always displayed first on the page.

And there it was.

Slapped on the front page was a photo of TSA at the club last night. Tyler and Nate took centre stage as Austin took up the rear. Ryan had even managed to make the corner of the shot. The fourth band member was missing completely.

Gabe’s eyes skimmed over the article's headline: "Life On Tour, The Seventh Affliction Acquires New Taste for Different Cities...and Women."

Gabe scoffed as he briefly skimmed the article. Never had he been one to subscribe to the subterranean defamation of performance journalism, nor did he really care what was said about the band, but occasionally a story would hold Gabe’s attention for longer than two seconds.

"Music of the new age...frontman Tyler Saunders hits up Chicago's own on a night out on the town...holding the attention of men and women alike."

Superficial bullshit. That's all the media was and will ever be. Gabe clicked on a new tab.

Silverline Photography.

The browser displayed the results and Gabe clicked on the first link on the page. It took him to the company's website.

Stylish with a black finish, Gabe scrolled through the fancy website until his mouse hovered over the already-clicked link the same way it had done many times before.

Submissions. Get your work seen by professionals.

Just as always, Gabe clicked on the link and proceeded to stare at the information on the page for ten minutes, unmoving. The aesthetic was a simple gloss finish that he hated with every fibre of his body.

Desire only lead to disappointment, something Gabe had learnt a long time ago. He slammed the laptop closed.

Moving into the small kitchen, he picked up the folder sitting on the table. Mark had texted earlier this morning, wanting Gabe to rearrange the placement of the bass amp and drum amp on stage. The folder in his hands was a copy of the stage layout for each city, meaning he had to work to coordinate each one together.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Gabe took out the laptop again and began going through the folder. Some days he couldn't believe his job. Other than being a shag bag for the band a few nights a week, it was relatively easy work.

Gabe had never been trained in sound production, though he took a theatre tech college class before deciding that was a useless path.

When Mark first approached Gabe he’d asked what the job specifications were. Mark had replied with, "All I care about is how well you can fuck. Shit, nothing else matters. Learn as you go and keep the tears to yourself when you can't figure shit out."

Needless to say, it didn't take Gabe long to learn the ins-and-outs of setting up a stadium production. The hardest part would be bumping in and out each night according to schedule rather than monitoring the equipment itself.

Gabe was an hour into his work when the trailer door opened and Drew, Ryan and Jordan rowdily entered the bus, laughing and chatting loudly.

Groaning internally, Gabe rubbed his temples and sent a glare the group's way. "Can you guys shut up? I'm trying to work."

"All you do is work." Jordan rolled his eyes. "Have you ever tried having fun for once?"

"I'm not here for fun." Gabe growled in response. "I'm doing my job."

"Your job is to fuck and get fucked." Ryan pointed out. "You know as well as we do that the whole stage-management aspect is a cover."

"If its a cover how about I punch out early and let you do late inventory till two in the morning then?"

Ryan wiggled his eyebrows. "Touche."

"Alright guys, leave Gabe alone." Drew approached Gabe's side and dropped a white takeout bag down on the small table. "Club sandwich. The food isn't bad around here."

"I didn't ask for that."

"And yet you got it." Drew leaned closer to peer down at the array of papers scattered across the table. "What's Mark got you doing this time?"

Gabe inhaled a deep breath. "Equipment reassessment. A new OHS plan needs to be drawn up now."

"Mm," Drew hummed through a mouthful of the sandwich he had proceeded to pull out. "I can do that."

Gabe flicked the crumbs off his work in annoyance. "You're a guitar technician."

"Dude, it's either that or listening to Jordan whine about Nate for the rest of the afternoon. Slide over."

Gabe slid over to make room for Drew as the pair settled in to go over a new Occupational Health and Safety plan.

Mark texted the group around two o'clock. The manager called Gabe's phone a moment later.

"I need you and Addams to pick up Tylenol and a six pack and bring it back to the hotel. I've got my hands full here."

The manager hung up without another word. Gabe glared at his phone for a solid two minutes before standing and turning to Drew with a, "Move."

"What's the boss man want now?"

"To clean up the band's shit like they're children." Gabe said sharply and swiped his keys off the counter. He kicked Ryan's chair as he passed. "Let's go. He sent you too."

Ryan sighed and stood. Drew looked up at the pair, focusing on Gabe as he said, "I'll have this finished by the time you get back."

"You better, or you can explain to Mark why you're not pulling your shit."

"Yeah yeah." Drew said dismissively. Gabe and Ryan left without another word.

They walked back through town to stop at the local store and pick up the items Mark had requested. When they got to the hotel, the elevator ride was silent and they stepped out onto the right floor. Gabe banged on the door with little remorse for the hungover band mates inside.

It seemed as though Mark didn't care for his boys' state either as he flung the door open and asked loudly, "Did you get it?"

Gabe handed him the bag wordlessly and Mark took it, walking over to the bed where both Tyler and Nate were passed out beside each other.

Mark placed the bag down on the nightstand with a loud thud and took out a six pack of beer. He took two cans from the pack and proceeded to crack them open.

"You want to get black-out pissed like children," Mark said loudly. "Then you can suffer like men."

Without another word, Mark turned the cans upside down and poured beer all over the sleeping band mates and the hotel bed.

Tyler and Nate woke with a violent stir and sat up, their expressions changing from confusion to fury in a heartbeat.

"What the fuck!" Tyler exclaimed angrily, rubbing the stinging beer from his eyes.

"Mark," Nate groaned and shook his hair out in annoyance, sending beer droplets flying. "The fuck was that for?"

"Get up." Mark said, emptying another can over the pair as they protested with vigorous profanity. "You don't spend the whole night getting pissed and then pass out till afternoon the next day. You're not teenagers. Grow the fuck up. You wanna drink like men then you power through like men."

Another can was emptied and Tyler threw himself off the bed, throwing vile curses at Mark. Ryan turned away to stifle a laugh.

Gabe watched the scene unfold in silence. Mark was right. Tyler and Nate did act like hyperactive children most of the time but Mark's methods to get them to fall in line were sometimes extreme. He knew the manager wouldn't possess a single care about the beer stains on the sheet given that they paid the hotel staff generously.

"I think you got some in my mouth," Nate spluttered as he swung his legs off the bed. "Man, I was just getting over last night."

"Build a bridge and get over it." Mark responded. "The other two can hold their liquor. It's time you learnt too."

"Austin only had one drink and Harley doesn't drink at all!"

That got Gabe's attention. His head snapped up at the mention of the drummer's name. He had noticed the other night at the club that the raven-haired boy didn't have a drink but it never occurred to him that he didn't drink at all. He rarely saw the guy to know.

"All the more reason you two should follow their influence," said Mark. "If you make me do this again I swear to god I'm gonna pour vinegar all over the sheets. That'll really sting."

Mark placed the cans back on the nightstand and stood back, throwing a towel at the pair. "We need to change some of the arrangements. Rehearsal in one hour. Don't be late."

The manager turned to Gabe. "Where's the new stage plan?"

"In the bus. It'll be done by this afternoon."

Mark nodded and stepped around Gabe and Ryan to get to the door. "Bring it to my room when you're done. And also-"

He stopped to turn around and Gabe watched him carefully. "-I have a special task for you Gabe, one that we need to discuss privately. Come see me tomorrow.”

The manager left without another word as Gabe stared after him, wondering what the 'special' task was.

***

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