"'Welcome to the real world' she said to me condescendingly. 'Take a seat, take your life, plot it out in black and white.' Well I never lived the dreams of the prom kings and the drama queens I'd like to think the best of me is still hiding up my sleeve," John sings into the mic, his hard callous fingers strumming against his guitar quickly as the others move over the strings. His brown curly hair bounced upon his sweaty forehead, clinging just a bit and falling, landing in his eyes where were already blinded by the bright lights that shine down on him. He jumps up and down for a second, his foot tapping happily to the beat before his lips return to the microphone. "They love to tell you stay inside the lines. But something's better on the other side..."
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John quickly walks to the back with a towel over his head, sweating profusely as he drinks from his water bottle. He nods to people as they say "great show" and "you were great" but mostly ignores them. His eyes were focused upon one thing, his room. He needed a break, he was tired, sweaty, ready to crash but also to run a marathon due to the adrenalin pumping through his body.
"Johnny boy! That was a great show!" a familiar voice calls. John smirks a bit, turning his head and looks at Scott, his road manager and nods slowly.
"It was alright," He responds, still walking to his room.
"Alright? man that was awesome! So good that you will get a two days off," Scott continues, following John. John rolls his eyes in response, opening his dressing room door and walks in to find teddy bears, cards, and flowers from fans had already been placed in there in boxes, to be shipped out. He walks on over to the couch, tossing his jacket which laid upon it to the side before having a seat, relaxing some and closing his eyes. "We'll be heading to New York.."
"For interviews, and for a show which is scheduled in two days so really you're not giving me time off, it's time I already had," he interrupts, smirking a bit as he brings his water bottle back up to his lips, taking another sip.
Scott sighs, nodding his head some before laughing under his breath. "Caught me but good to know you know what's going on..."
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This was his life. Day in and out, concert after concert, interview after interview. Nothing gave him a reason to smile like he use. While he loved performing, the audiences's reactions to his music, making music, playing his guitar and even some parts of touring, just something was missing for him. Each day seemed longer, each nights sleep came harder, each girl holding her boyfriend was a little more painful. Was love missing? He had never had a problem with the ladies. Girls always had a crush on him, mostly for his guitar. He has his friends, always around with jokes and smile, always cheering him up and pushing the nagging feeling to the back of his mind and heart but none-the-less it was still there. What was missing? The feeling lately had been torturing him so much a song for his next all about it. He was planning to sing it at his next concert and most likely put it on the next album.
Sitting alone in the back of the bus, guitar on his lap and lights off, his moss green eyes stayed glued out the window. Each passing street light lighting up the room and the rain that tell against the windows of the bus. Each one washing out the moon in the distance, his target.
"I can't be sure that this state of mine, is not of my own desire. I wish there was an over the counter test, for loneliness, for loneliness... like this...." he sings in a whisper, his head hearing tighter against the glass before he breaths in deeply, letting the feeling drift away. "Come on John, be the dog not the damn bone."
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