(no subject)

July, 22nd

Lang stripped off the fringed leather sleeves as she made a beeline for the bus. It had been another bad performance—by her standards, anyway—and all she wanted to do was hide in her bunk. She needed to be away from everyone.

She felt guilty for not wanting to greet the fans after the show, but she wouldn’t be able to fake a smile convincingly enough. But it was easy enough to be able to escape. All they had to say was she’s not feeling well. It wouldn’t be a lie. The humidity felt like a lead blanket and the morning sickness had settled right into the pit of her stomach.

With the sleeves off, she reached around to her back and tugged on the corset strings to loosen them. Pants with buttons were out unless she strung them together with an elastic band and there was a part of her that wouldn’t let herself resort to that. The corset still fit—thank heaven for laces—but it was becoming uncomfortable. It reminded her of a movie line about pain and corsets, though she figures this isn’t quite what Keira Knightly was talking about.

Finally, the bus was in sight. Sweet salvation. And air conditioning.

“Lang!” It was Seb. “Lang, stop!”

She stopped, shoulders slumped, but didn’t turn around. “Go away, Seb.”

“Will you just talk to me?” he asked, coming up behind her.

“Can’t it wait?” she responded as she turned around to face him.

“Lang, you said the highlight of the night is meeting the fans and now you’re bailing on them?” He wasn’t making accusations, just voicing concerns.

“I’m not ‘bailing’ on them,” she said, “I feel terrible and I’m probably going to puke on your shoes if you keep me standing here in this humidity much longer.”

He didn’t find it funny. “Convenient.”

She balked, “What?”

“It’s a convenient excuse.”

She blinked, waiting for her brain to engage again. “How can you say this is convenient for me?” She stopped for a moment, realizing it stung more than she thought it did.

“I hurt too and I’m gonna go back there because there are some pretty cool kids who want to talk to us.”

She shook her head and waved a hand before jabbing a finger in the air, “No. You don’t get to compare this. I’m growing your child. You went and got your reckless ass hit by a truck. Those two things don’t even come close to each other!” She spun her back to him and starting storming towards the bus again.

“Look, Lang, I know how your head works,” he said before she could get very far, “I know you’re embarrassed.”

Lang turned around again, “Great, so call me out on it. Now go away, Seb, please?”

Seb again closed the distance between them. “Would you just stop, huh? You’ve been snapping at me for two weeks now and not all of it I deserve.”

She looked at the pavement between their feet with a sigh. She was at least willing to admit he had a point. “You’re right and I’m sorry. It’s just going on two weeks without a break and I don’t think you can imagine how exhausted I am.”

“It’s only two more,” he said, trying to sound encouraging.

“Yeah and then I get to do it all over again,” she rubbed a hand over her face, “I’m not…I’m not angry at you. I don’t resent any of this. I’m angry at myself because I fucked up again tonight.”

“I think you did fine. You sound fine; you look fine.”

She looked up at him and cocked her head to one side. “You keep using this word ‘fine’. That was my father’s favorite word when he hated something but didn’t want to have to deal with explaining why. So each time you say that…”

Seb looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to finish the thought, but nothing was forthcoming. He cupped her cheeks in his rough hands, staring into her deep brown eyes. “Each time I say that what? What are you afraid of, Lang?”

As she stared at him, every fear, every answer came flooding into her brain, a thousand all at once. “What am I afraid of?” she repeated and drew in a shaky breath, “There’s too much expectation to be perfect and too much weight on my chest. Too many people are counting on me.”

She drew in another breath and took a step away from him. The words just came tumbling out, “I’m afraid I’ll let them down if I haven’t already! I’m terrified they’ll figure out I’m not nearly as talented as people think I am. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I fake it well but I can’t actually sing!”

“I can think of dozens of women in this business who are above and beyond where I am. Those same women make better role models than I ever could be. AJ hathor_rising being the first to come to mind.”

Seb couldn’t do anything but listen as she continued unloading. “You remember her, right? Younger, thinner. The voice, God the voice. I think you compared her to Janis Joplin. She definitely wouldn’t have any problem kicking ass through Iron.”

Lang dropped her eyes to the ground again as the tears welled up. She was done yelling at him, but wasn’t done getting everything off her chest. “She wouldn’t give you the time of day now. With good reason. Neither would Audrey. And yet here I am.”

He was silent, afraid to say anything. Because it was clearly about more than the music and the perfectionism. “Lang…”

She shook her head, “I really need to go lay down.” Without even another glance, she turned and started for the bus.

Seb knew it was better for now just to let her go, even if all he wanted to do was hold her.