Ray.
~~~
The hum of the bus wheels beneath my feet was a constant, rhythmic pulse that seemed to match the swirl of thoughts racing through my head. It felt good to be back on the road, almost too good.
The smell of worn leather and faded fabric in the air, the low murmur of voices coming from the back of the bus, the familiarity of it all—it was like I had stepped back into a place where I could breathe again. This was where I thrived, where I felt alive. On the road, moving from one city to the next, chasing the rush of the next show, the next crowd.
But it wasn't the same as before.
I glanced over at Sam. She was sitting a few feet away, her forehead pressed against the cool, fogged-up window, watching the scenery blur by. She looked calm, peaceful even, but I knew her better than that.
I could see the tension in her shoulders and the way her fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sweater. Her face was pale, and the exhaustion I'd seen ever since Rose's funeral still clung to her like a shadow. It was hard to ignore. She had offered to come with me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she was pushing herself, trying to dive back into the chaos before she was ready.
I leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. I tried to push the worry away, but it was like a gnawing presence that wouldn't let go. We hadn't had time to breathe since everything happened.
The whirlwind of grief, the quick decision to hit the road, it was all happening so fast. Sam had said she wanted to come with me, but now, sitting here, I couldn't help but feel like maybe it was too soon for her. Was she really ready for this? I wanted her with me, but I also wanted her to take the time she needed.
But, damn, we both needed this. I needed this—needed her. The last few days had been a blur of emotions, and as much as I hated to admit it, I'd been itching to get back on the road.
To focus on something I understood—music, the band, performing. It was easier to drown in the noise of the tour than sit in the silence of loss. Even so, Sam was never far from my thoughts. Being here with her was different this time, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of that difference.
"Hey, Ray!" Logan's voice from the back of the bus snapped me out of my head. He was leaning in the doorway, a grin spread across his face and a beer in hand. "You ready for tomorrow's show? Venue's supposed to be packed!"
I smirked, giving him a nod. "Yeah, man, I'm ready."
I stood up and moved toward the small table where Logan and Andrew had already sprawled out, casually flipping through setlists and tour schedules. The energy in the room was light, carefree, but my mind kept drifting back to Sam. She was still staring out the window, her reflection ghostly against the glass. My heart twisted at the sight of her.
As I took a seat, Elena shot me a quick smile from her corner, her eyes darting between the guys. She was a recent addition, organized and efficient, but she was more of an observer than an active participant. I could tell she was still adjusting, but I hoped she'd find her place in the mix soon enough. The band felt like family to me—rough around the edges, but solid—and I wanted her to feel that sense of belonging too.
"Ray?" Elena's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked and realized I'd zoned out, not fully hearing the conversation.
"Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about tomorrow," I muttered, trying to shake off the unease growing in my chest. "The schedule looks good."
Later I excused myself from the group and walked back toward Sam. I slid into the seat beside her, gently touching her hand. She startled slightly, turning to meet my eyes, and offering me a soft smile. But I could still see the tiredness in her gaze. It was always there, lurking.
"Hey," I murmured, leaning in closer. "You okay?"
She nodded, but I could tell from the way her eyes darted back to the window that something was still eating at her.
"Just a lot to take in," she admitted quietly, her fingers lacing through mine. "It feels... different this time. Venues are so big now and so many people come to see you."
I squeezed her hand, my heart tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. "I know. It's a lot. But you know I am always here, love."
She leaned her head on my shoulder, and I kissed the top of her head, wishing more than anything that I could take away the discomfort she was feeling. Being back on tour was supposed to be a reset, a chance to move forward, but I could see the unease growing in her, like a weight she was carrying that she wasn't ready to put down. It bothered me more than I let on that there was nothing I could do to make it better right now.
For a long moment, we just sat there in the quiet, the buzz of the bus and the distant chatter from the back of the bus filling the space between us. I kept my arm around her, wanting to protect her from whatever it was that was dragging her down, even if I wasn't sure how. She deserved to feel at peace, but this tour, this life we'd stepped into again— it wasn't going to be that easy.
~~~
Sam.
~~~
The lights in the venue flickered as the crew hustled around, preparing for the show the next day. I stood backstage, tucked away from the chaos, but it didn't stop the unease that was slowly twisting in my chest. It was hard to breathe, hard to settle into the space.
I wasn't used to being seen like this. Being on tour with Ray before had felt different—back then, I was just a quiet presence in the background, someone who could melt into the crowd. But now? Now, everything felt magnified. I wasn't just his invisible girlfriend anymore; I was part of his world, and it was a world full of eyes.
A group of fans had gathered near the barrier that separated the backstage area from the venue, their excited chatter filling the air. As much as I tried to focus on the music blasting through the speakers during sound check, I couldn't ignore the weight of their gazes. I felt them, even when I didn't look directly at them. Whispers. Quick glances. I wasn't imagining it.
"Is that her?" One voice asked, almost too loud.
"That's definitely her, Ray's girlfriend," another added.
My shoulders stiffened. Ray's girlfriend. That's who I was to them. Not a writer, not a person in my own right. Just a part of Ray's story. I tried to brush it off, but the sting of it stuck with me. It made me feel small. Invisible in a way that wasn't comforting.
I'd always known that Ray's world was full of admirers—the die-hard fans who breathed every note he sang. I loved that he had people who adored him. I wanted him to have that, but now, with all eyes on me, it was a different feeling. Overwhelming. My heart thudded in my chest, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea of expectations, even though no one had asked anything of me.
I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of where to stand. I didn't feel like I belonged here—not really. The blurry line between my private life and the public persona people wanted me to be felt like it was growing thinner by the minute. I wanted to be with Raymond, but I wasn't sure how to exist in this world where every step was observed, and every smile analyzed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few fans inching closer, their eyes wide with curiosity. I tried to force a smile, but it felt like a fragile thing, cracking at the edges.
One young woman approached me, looking nervous but determined, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. I took a deep breath and braced myself.
"Hi, um, you're Sam, right?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.
I nodded, offering a polite smile. "Yeah, that's me."
"I just wanted to say... I think it's so cool how supportive you are of Ray," she continued, her words spilling out in a rush. "You guys are, like, relationship goals. How do you handle it? Being with someone who's famous?"
The question hit me harder than I expected. It was an innocent enough question, but there was a weight to it I hadn't anticipated. How do I handle it? I wasn't sure I was handling it at all, not today.
"I just take it one day at a time, I guess," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the tremor in it.
Her eyes lit up, clearly satisfied with the answer. "Well, I think you're amazing. Ray's lucky to have you."
I smiled, a little softer this time. "Thanks."
She beamed at me, and with a quick wave, bounced off to rejoin her friends. I stood there, the echo of her words lingering in the air. The conversation hadn't been bad—it had been sweet, even—but it left me feeling hollow. I wasn't sure how to navigate this. How to balance the woman I was with the version of me that was expected in this new world. It was like I was expected to perform a role I wasn't sure I was ready for.
Just then, I felt a hand gently touch my arm, and I turned to see Raymond, his brow furrowed with concern. He must have finished his sound check and spotted me talking to the fans. His eyes scanned my face, searching for something.
"Everything okay?" he asked softly, his voice low, laced with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
I forced a smile, nodding. "Yeah."
His gaze lingered, though. He could tell I wasn't being entirely honest. Ray always knew when something was off. He took my hand and led me into a quieter corner backstage, away from the noise and the fans. His touch was soft but firm, a grounding presence that eased some of the weight I was carrying.
"I saw those fans talking to you," Ray said quietly. "What did they say?"
"Nothing bad," I replied quickly, shaking my head. "They were nice. It's just... it's different this time. Before, I could just blend in. Now, people recognize me. They ask me questions about us, about you. It's weird."
Ray nodded, his expression darkening with understanding. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't realize it would be like this. I thought—well, I hoped you'd still be able to just... be you."
I squeezed his hand. "I am me. It's just that being me feels different now. I'm not used to people seeing me like this, as part of your world."
Ray's frown deepened, and he pulled me a little closer, his voice a little softer now. "You don't have to be part of it if you don't want to. If this is too much—"
I shook my head, my heart aching at the concern in his voice. He meant well, but it wasn't what I wanted. I loved him. I wanted to be here with him. I just needed to find my footing in this new reality, where every step I took was observed by strangers.
"No, Ray, it's not that," I said gently. "I want to be here with you. I do. It's just going to take some time to get used to it. I'll be fine. I just don't want you to worry."
Ray sighed, pressing his forehead against mine, his hands cupping my face. "I'll always worry about you."
I smiled, feeling a little lighter, even as the weight of everything settled back into my chest. "And I'll always find a way to manage."
Ray pulled me into a gentle kiss, his warmth enveloping me, and for a moment, the chaos of the venue and the energy of the upcoming show faded away. We stood there, holding each other.