Tuscon
Albuquerque
Our bus driver, Alec, has been on the tour circuit for twenty-odd years and knows the best restaurants and things to see in every city we stop at, every state we wind through. We play shows in places I have never been before and, in all likelihood, will never be again. We meet strangers on the street who scream at the sight of our faces and backstage-pass super-fans who share beautiful stories about their connection to our lyrics.
Denver
Fargo
Minneapolis
The exhilarating high that happens after a show, when the house lights go down and our platform descends to riotous applause, always lasts a day — or, at the very least, until we wake up in a new city, parked outside some chic hotel or other. They’re always upscale and tastefully decorated, but after a while they all begin to blend together. One unending blur of loudly-patterned carpeting, tightly-tucked sheets, and tiny conditioner bottles Carly and I hoard like contraband.
Kansas City
Tulsa
Des Moines
Squinty-eyed strangers in uncharted territory, we step out of our air-conditioned coach and take in our short-term new home: aliens descending from another planet in a flurry of luggage and sound equipment, guitars and drum-sets. Carly confers with bellhops and crew members, we walk quickly through glossy lobbies with dark sunglasses over our eyes, trading the confines of a coach bus for penthouse penitentiaries. We go nowhere without Smith, York, Linden, and Stevens. We do nothing spontaneously or without unbelievable fanfare.
Dallas
Houston
New Orleans
The bus rolls on, and life with it. We carve our mark across the southwestern states, each show drawing more and more fans. They line the sidewalks with signs, scream our names outside the hotel, beg for selfies when they see us on the streets, popping in and out of local haunts with our security team in tow.
Tampa
Miami
Atlanta
By the time October rolls around, we’ve played sixteen shows in eight weeks, and we are all beginning to wear on each other’s last nerves. Lincoln and Aiden bicker during soundchecks. Ryder and I are more at odds than ever. Even Carly has been uncharacteristically pissy, snapping about everything from the ever-messy state of our bunks to the place Alec chose to pull off for road snacks.
We’re more than ready for a break — from the tour, from this bus, from each other — when we cross the city limits into Nashville. After so long on the road, it’s a welcome sight indeed.
It’s funny that this town, more than any other, feels like home to me. I only lived here a few short months. Still, there’s something about it that ensnared my senses from that very first day. Maybe it’s the connection to Gran, maybe it’s the music spilling into the streets from the honky-tonks on Broadway, or the mobs of tourists in their new cowboy boots snapping pictures in front of the Ryman.
It doesn’t matterwhy— I just know, it’s good to be back.
We pull to a stop at a fancy downtown hotel, just a few blocks over from The Nightingale. I tuck my songwriting notebook into my bag and sling it over my shoulder, more than ready to get off the bus and have some time to myself. I’ve been avoiding Ryder’s glares and grunts since we boarded in Atlanta — not an easy feat, with him sitting five feet away, working on a chord progression for some new material he hasn’t shared with me.
I wonder if he’ll keep touring, after I leave.
Change the band name toWoodsand carry on like I never existed at all.
“Anyone up for a visit to see Issac tomorrow night, before your show?” Carly asks, looking around at all of us. “I promised I’d drag the lot of you by The Nightingale when we came through town. And, not to lay on the guilt too thick or anything… but I’m sort of obligated to deliver on that promise, since he’s basically the best boss in the world for letting me leave my job on zero notice to join this rolling circus.”
“Guilt was plenty thick, if you ask me,” Aiden mutters.
She glares at him.
“Hell, I’m always up for a drink,” Linc agrees, shrugging.
“I’m in, too,” I murmur, setting my bag back down. “I haven’t seen Issac for years.”