This Life ? (J.C)

After Glasgow, they arrived in Dublin, checking into a hotel and preparing for soundcheck at Temple Bar Music Centre. It was a small venue—probably the smallest Joy had seen them play, aside from the bars in the city where they had gotten their start.

"Hard to Explain" was heard backstage—Joy sitting in the pleather red sofa, waiting for the guys to get done with their set. Their plan was to stay after the show; hang out and have a little fun.

Joy however, would not be having fun. Julian had humiliated her—called her out in front of everyone about the scars on her body. As it turned out, the guys had their suspicions long before the spat on the bus when leaving Trash; they were just respectful enough not to address it.

It was none of their business, but Julian had made it everyone's business.

She can't say she blamed him, she should've never tried to argue with him. Julian was stoned out of his head, saying anything and everything to prove a point. He had called her crazy—fucking crazy.

Everyone had a derogatory term they were sensitive to; for most women, that word was "bitch" or "whore." For Joy though, that word was "crazy."

Perhaps it was because she was defensive, having to justify her actions. Julian didn't need an explanation, but for some reason, she felt the need to prove her sanity. She just didn't think Jules would have the audacity to call her out in front of everyone the way he had. 

She had gone out of her way to avoid him since the incident, having Al be the mediator—the messenger. Julian didn't seem to mind. He took orders from Joy through Al, never questioning her reasons for avoiding him. For once, Jules was playing Joy's game—the quiet game.

A game he wouldn't win.

The show had ended—everyone sat backstage waiting to be interviewed. Joy knew the guys would be too tired to give an interview come tomorrow, so she scheduled for the journalist to meet with them backstage.

It was a madhouse—some fans were also let backstage. But it was a chance for the media to see how well they interacted with fans.

Fabrizio answered most of the questions, sometimes Albert would answer. Nick sat playing his guitar, Nikolai following Jules' lead by sitting in silence... sort of.

They would sometimes whisper amongst themselves, laughing "discretely." It was difficult for either of them to hide when something was funny. Julian's laugh was too deep—too loud. Nikolai's face gleamed red; he didn't laugh so quietly either.

"Hey... you alright?" Ryan spoke beside her, causing Joy's head to turn away from the guys. She displayed a fake smile, forcing it to reach her eyes snidely. Ryan laughed, "Okay, so you're clearly doing fucking fantastic."

"I'm fine, Ryan... really." Joy turned back to the table of refreshments—the beer and empty ashtrays.

"You should talk to Julian." Ryan mumbled, folding his arms over his chest as his eyes shifted toward the sofa.

"I have nothing to say to him." Joy spoke, aligning the beer bottles and beer cans; turning the containers to make the labels face forward. She didn't want to talk about it—she didn't want to talk to Julian.

"I'm not taking up for him, but Jules... he didn't mean it. He was really fucked up and- he's sorry."

"He actually told you that he was sorry?" Joy looked to Ryan in disbelief.