Touring is good and all, but packing up equipment after each show-a pain in the ass. Everything has to be dismantled, packed properly, and preserved until the next show. Then there are cables… I’m fuckin sure that there's a special circle in hell where you have to untangle, separate, segregate, and sort all the cables-devil's work.

To maintain sanity, I start imagining different sizes and shapes within the cables, like Giger's works... whether I want to or not, I keep seeing engorged phalluses and slimy cunts. One cable knot, in particular, looks so similar to hers...

"Corey!!!" Regina's shrieking voice snaps me out of it. I turn around, still holding all the firm cables in my hands.

“Hold your horses, Reg, calm those perky titties of yours down; what's up?" She's too flustered to roll her eyes at me, which she usually does. I wonder what's got her all hot and bothered so much.

"It's Liyah! I can't wake her up, come quick!"

"Damn it!" I growl, throw the neatly arranged cables on the dirty ground, and run after Regina's bulky legs. All the backup dancers are still in their on-stage costumes, everyone's having a laugh, and they're all sitting in a circle around the improvised campfire while Liyah's lying on the cushions by their side. By their relaxed posture and attitude, I ease up a bit. Reg is known to exaggerate in certain circumstances... Backup dancers all tense up when they realize that I'm here. It's not like I run a military camp, but they know who's the alpha of this circus.

Dylan cheers at me with his beer can and says, "Hey, Corey, all good?"

Sylvia tenses up next to him and stares at me.

"No, not good, what's up with Liyah?" I say with a command in my voice.

Stella turns around to look at her. She's thoroughly drunk and mumbles, "She's good, ol' jolly Liyah she is," and hiccups. "She took the same thing as I did..." She hiccups again, her perky, pink mouth shaped into a small “oh.”

“And what that might be?" I say as I put my arms on my hips, waiting for her to tell me.

She hiccups again as she bends down to lay a wet kiss on Liyah's still cheek. Her strawberry blond hair falls over her face. "We just took some sleeping pills with tequila," she hiccups again. Then her body goes all soft, and she falls next to Liyah's sleeping body before snoring so loudly that you’d think she was a heavy-set truck driver.

Dylan straightens up as he speaks, "Don't worry, Corey, we just gave them a pill each. The girls complained about being tired as fuck after 3 consecutive shows… no harm done. They just ran them down with tequila instead of water. Stella thought it’d be a good joke."

I sigh, "Good joke indeed," I say as I move to take Liyah's limp frame.

Her eyes flutter open for a second before they close and she mumbles something I can’t quite hear. She's dipping in and out of consciousness, and her slim hands are running away from me as I'm picking her up, but she's light as a feather. It's almost the same as when she was 12-so petite and light.