Author: Dee
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I pulled up to the stop and opened the doors, watching as the homeless people filed on, heading back to the shelter for the night and the single mothers in their Burger King uniforms who just got off work. After they'd all dropped their coins in the slot, I slammed the doors closed and drove on to the next stop, just to repeat the same process. It'd become automatic to me. I'd been doing this for almost 10 years. Not the same route, but always the same routine. But it was perfect for me, the normality of it all had been exactly what I'd been looking for, and no one ever looked twice at the early middle-aged bus driver with the perpetual five-o-clock shadow and the dark sunglasses that he never removed. Even the glam-punk girlies in black and glitter with their British music badges didn't know who I really was, except for him. It'd been 3 years and I hadn't seen him since, but I remembered the night he got on my bus like it was yesterday...
**************
"So uh... where does this bus go anyways?" He asked, looking up from the route map. It was upside down. He slid over to the seat closest to me.
"All the way up and down Broad Street." I replied, trying to hide the hint of an accent that still tinged my speech. He started to pull a cigarette out, but I stopped him. "You can't smoke on a public bus."
"Bloody hell." He grumbled and started to pout a little bit.
I knew this man, he was from out of town, out of the country actually, but I knew who he was for sure, and I knew that he'd figure out who I was if I let my guard down. We were both in disguise, but mine had seven years to be perfected. His was obviously just thrown together. I paid very close attention to the British music scene still and there was no mistaking his nasally hybrid accent and slight build, not as thin as me though. Plus I'd heard that his band was in town this weekend, but why was he on my bus at 1 A.M.?
I knew what it was like after a gig, why wasn't he at a party with his mates or something? I remembered how it was backstage, the excitement and the drugs, the alcohol, the sex. Remembering it then almost made me want to go back, but I shook the thought from my head before it could take root.
"What's on Broad Street, then?" He sniggered.
"Not much. All the pubs are closed by now; this is my last route of the night. You'd be best going back to your hotel." Fuck, I'd slipped; the expression on his face when I glanced in the mirror was enough to tell me that he'd caught it.
"Do I know you? What's your name?" I wished he'd stop asking me questions.
"James." I said gruffly. He could've just looked at my certificate posted on the visor.
"You seem familiar." I shifted uncomfortably in my driver's seat, suddenly my uniform felt too tight and very hot. I wished he'd just get off my bus.
"We've never met, I'm sure."
"Oh well then. So anyways, I'm fucking screwed then? Does this thing go to the..." he pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket, "Hampton Inn on Race Street?"
"No, but for you I'll take a detour since no passengers are on board and I'm off the clock in 20 minutes."
"Hmmm, what are you gonna do when you get off?" He said after a long pause.
"I'm going back to my apartment to watch TV till I can fall asleep." I caught myself before I said flat.
"Do you know who I am?" He said after several minutes of silence. I don't know what possessed me, but I said yes. Just like I don't know why I said yes when he asked me back to his hotel. I suppose going with him was better than the usual alternative of sitting alone with my thoughts, unable to sleep or... no I shouldn't even think of that, I didn't do that anymore. The scars on my arm and my chest were enough of a reminder. Maybe I wanted to talk with someone who'd been through at least a little of what I had, or maybe I secretly wanted him to find out who I really was, or maybe I just wanted to fuck.
*************
I was trying not to question myself as I drove back to his hotel after returning the bus. I met him where I'd dropped him off. He sauntered over to my silver Cavalier, smoking as usual. When we got up to his hotel room he offered me something to eat.
"Not hungry," I lied, passing by food had become second nature to me. I did accept his offer for a drink though, but only of water. I knew that if I'd had a vodka & coke like he was having, one would turn into ten as it had in the old days. I sat down at a table across from him. I decided to ask him questions before he could ask me. Like why he was on my bus in the night and why he invited me over, his answers were about as vague as my own were. When he managed to get a question for me in, I'd answer as briefly as I could and then change the subject. I hadn't shared openly with anyone since Nicky and I wasn't about to start then.
Sure, I'd been in a few relationships since then; mostly with people I met in Alcoholics Anonymous, Eating Disorders Anonymous or the like, but I'd always end it before they could get too close. But despite myself, I found that as Brian revealed things about himself, I began to tell him things I'd never told anyone before, without giving away too much though. We talked for several hours until I fell asleep where I sat.
*************
When I woke up I had the odd sensation that my entire left side was numb and something was jabbing into my back. Where was I? How long had I been out? Disorientation was a feeling I'd long forgotten. My watch said it was 6:47 AM but it felt as though I'd been sleeping much longer. I rubbed my eyes to get them used to the harsh light. I was curled up in a chair in Brian's hotel room, my bare skin adhered to the vinyl. Then I heard a light cough from across the room. My gaze rose to where Brian sat glaring at me, was that accusation I saw in his greenish-blue eyes?
"Why did you lie to me?" Had he slept at all?
"What?" I questioned whether I'd heard him correctly.
"You lied about who you really are. Don't you trust me?"
I had taken my shirt off before I fell asleep, an old habit. His gaze was focused on my forearm, at where a tattoo once was, the faint marks of laser removal was all that remained. I drew it close to me instinctively, protectively. "I wanted to but... I didn't want... I don't know." I trailed off. "What gave it away?"
"How thin you are made me think and I put everything together, the scars just confirmed it." He paused, looked down and picked at the cushion of his chair. "At least tell me why you disappeared then, you owe me that much."
"I had to get away, I was killing myself. I couldn't take it anymore. I had many reasons."
"Do you still write lyrics?"
"A few months before I left London all inspiration left me. I've not written a bloody thing since."
"So now that you've been discovered why don't you come back? It'd be great! You’re more popular now than ever. James and Nicky and Sean have put aside over 2 million dollars for you."
I'd considered his reasoning many times as I sat awake at night. "I can't go back. They've changed. I've changed. The money's not important; I'd just get in trouble with it like I always did before. Most of all I can't face the fans... and the bloody media, with all their probing questions."
"Want me to stop?"
"I... don't know."
"Then I have one last thing to ask you."
"Go on then."
"Wanna fuck me now?"
That wasn't the question I was expecting but I wasn't about to refuse. He was so beautiful, I'd be a fool to turn him down.
**************
We'd been lying there, just holding each other naked and completely spent after making love for what seemed like hours. It wasn't nearly long enough though, and someone began to bang on the door, intruding on our blissful peace.
"BRIAN! Are you in there? Open up, BRIAN! We gotta go soon!" I scrambled out of bed and rushed to put my wrinkled uniform back on.
"JUST A MINUTE!" Brian screeched in reply. He didn't bother to put his clothes back on and, when I was ready, opened the door wearing only a pair of tight, black Calvin Kline briefs. Stefan & Steve didn't even look fazed.
"Where've you been? Our flight leaves in 2 hours."
"I was shagging. Would you please excuse us?" Brian pulled me aside in the hallway and kissed me.
"Just hurry up." Steve looked angry; Stef managed a look of combined annoyance and intrigue.
"I love you." Brian murmured into my neck.
"I love you too. I'll miss you."
Brian dropped his voice so his bandmates couldn't hear, "Your secret is safe with me."
"Thanks. You know where to find me next time you're in town." I kissed him one last time and left, forcing myself not to look back as I waited for the elevator.
************ **
"BRIAN! You little slut," Stefan teased. "Who was that?"
"Just Richey James Edwards." I said nonchalantly as I pulled out a cigarette. Their jaws dropped.
"Really?" Steve said with wide eyes.
"You just left a man who's been missing for 7 years just walk out of here?" Stefan looked incredulous.
"No, I blew him first." I smiled proudly.
"No fucking way!"
"No, not really. Well I mean of course I blew him, but no, that wasn't Richey. You two believe everything." They laughed nervously.
"At first I thought he looked familiar, but no, that guy didn't look anything like Richey." Steve nodded in agreement with Stefan.
"So Brian, you better be packed." Stef slapped my arse playfully. I just giggled and waved them away eager to be alone and put my old Generation Terrorists cassette on.
~End~
(c) Copyright Dee M. "Bus". 4/14/05.