IV - Boston

I lean against the bar and wait. I need a shot of something because my past three are wearing off. I look for the bartender but he's busy and i'm growing weary of standing here. Owen comes up- drunk- clapping a hand on my shoulder and smiling. "What is up, comrade?" He says these things that intelligent people say and he makes them sound like he learned them from his frat house. "What's new?"

"Nothing." I said leaning over seeing the bartender all the way at the other end of the bar. I just want a reason to get away but this bartender is fucking me over. I lean back and wait some more.

"Still with that Brianna-chick?" He asked. Leave it to Owen to bring up my love life before I've shown interest in hearing him breath. I look over at him. He is drunk and he's not going to give up.

"Yeah," I said.

"She's hot," He said raising his eyebrows. I don't mind it much when people say Brianna's hot. I know she is and I have yet to convince people otherwise to make myself feel better about everything. "She soming out with you guys for a little while?" He means on tour- like he's brought "Lise" out on tour with him.

I shake my head. "No," I said. "We're supposed to start writing for the next record this tour." He catches this. He knows the last record was a year and a half ago. They were all urgent break-up songs about some girl that I lost. It's funny when life does this to you. Everyone has a tour like this. I expect there to be some circle at some festival we've played where they swap the ironic tours. This would beat everything. We're opening for a band we hate whose lead singer is sleeping with and bring my ex-girlfriend on who I haven't spoken to since and I can't write a single song to save my band.

"Just get a co-writer, man," He said clapping his hand on my shoulder. "You get singles, you get headlines, you win and all you have to do is put a little star in the CD booklet and write it too small to read that all the songs were written with so-and-so."

I nod. "We don't do that," I said. Owen talks to me normally. He hates Paul. He hates everyone except for me. Then he claps me on my shoulder again. "Just wait," He said.

Then he turns. "Lise," He said. "Hold my place, I have to go see blahh-blah-blah." He said a nambe but I was already convulsing and looking to steal a bottle of something before I stayed there.

I catch it out of the corner of my eye and I feel terrible for her. She didn't rush up smiling- she's frowning. She looks tired and he grabs her arm and scoops her into his place and scoots off without saying anything to me or her after that. A guy from the bar's team just scored a touchdown and he flies back hitting her hard and she just absorbs it. The guy turns around and looks at her but starts to turn. I'm already pissed off. I shove him in the back reaching over her successfully. I'm taller than him. At dark bars it looks like I could have beaten him up.

He turns. I start yelling at him telling him to say he's at least fucking sorry for knocking into her because his mother-fucking football team scored and he looks at Elisa and apologizes. She is in shock I think from me. I haven't said two words to her but here I am flipping out like a clingy boyfri- like a maniac over a guy shoving into her. "It's okay," She says to him.

He apologizes again and moves away from us. I look forward and start to sweat. She's going to say something to me. I know it. She doesn't she just looks miserable. So I take it upon myself. We have all the time in the world and Owen probably isn't coming back.

I have no idea what to say. My head hurts and I want to go for a walk. I look down the bar and see the bartender down there doing flashy stuff while mixing some drink. But Elisa looks over somewhere and when I look Owen has some blonde laughing into a coma as he laughs right back. She isn't jealous. There's nothingness as she watches him. She looks bored.

I'm drunk and I don't know what to say. So I start with the most dick move I've ever made. "How long have you been seeing Owen?" I ask.

She looks up. "Five months," She says blankly. I nod and look back down the bar. Then she gets up and sit on the stool empty behind her. "Are you guys friends?"

I look at her. I shake my head. And then she brightens up a little in relief. "What about the other guys?" She asks. I didn't know what she meant but she means everyone else I sleep on a bus with. I figure it's okay.

"We hate him."

She smiles a little. "Me too,"

I stare at her a little. She's on tour with him and she hates him? Something doesn't make sense. But at least she knows he's a dick. Someone comes in next to me and I'm pushed closer to her. It's almost awkward how close I'm to her after all of this. She doesn't show that she cares she just stands there and looks around.

People are scattered around everywhere and I'm giving up on the booze I'm thirsty for. I run a hand through my hair and wonder if I can leave her or will someone slam into her and she holds Owen's place indefinately.

"How is the band?" She asks me.

I look at her. I feel sick like I'm about to throw up talking to her. I shrug. "Good," I say. "I just don't think we're going to be doing too good. I havne't been writing since our last record."

She nods and she's quiet. There's a part of her that knows the record is a mean break-up record about her. She looks at me. "Do you hate me?" She asked suddenly.

"What?" I stare at her. Where did that come from?

She pauses. "I don't know," She said. "That record was pretty harsh and you wrote it after..." We both grow quiet like we've gone too far. Do I hate her? No. I never could. I'm talking to her which will lead to another brick of my writer's block. I'm waiting to wake up but I don't. "No," I say shaking my head.

She nods. "I'm sorry that record was a little harsh," I said suddenly. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

She shrugged. "It was amazing though," She said. "I love watching you guys play everynight. I didn't even know you were on the tour. But I know I'm not the only one, the room empties out when Owen gets onstage."

There is screaming because someone just hit a homerun but I look at her and she looks down the bar at the bartender. We're bother over twenty-one now but legal alcohol isn't suiting me tonight. I scratch my neck and look down the bar too.

"I'm going to get out of here," I said. "But I'm just going for a walk if you want to come." I feel sick again. My stomach is buzzing with alcohol but I'm sill calm talking to her thanks to the wearing off booze. She looks at me.

"Okay," She jumps off of the stool.

The ironic tour just got more ironic. My ex-girlfriend hates her boyfriend and I'm leaving a bar with her knowing I will be smashing my head into a wall and coming up with another break up song after tonight ends. But it will be a song nonetheless.