Fireflies // Owl City

Nila

I left my phone backstage when Vince dragged me off to play with him, so I go there and collect it from the couch where it was before looking back at him.

"So where are the rest of the dorks?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "Probably back in lounge area being idiots, since it seems like they've already cleaned up. If not, I guess they're back on the bus."

I nod, and head with him away from the wings and into the lounge further back in the building. Sure enough, I can hear the noise they're making from all the way down the hall. I roll my eyes at it.

"Y'all are such idiots."

"What were we just doing, Ni?" he points out.

"Touché."

"Back to an earlier subject, though," he moves on. "Who were you texting this afternoon?"

"Oh my gosh, you're still on that?" I groan.

"Yes, and I will be until you tell me the truth. Spill."

"It was no one, Vince," I sigh. "I was literally checking my grades on the app we use for school, and then I just started scrolling through my old dm's. Okay?"

He sighs heavily, a little more seriousness entering his voice. "Ni."

"Vince, I swear!" I moan. "Why would I lie to you about who I was texting?"

"Why did you hide it as soon as I walked up?" he counters.

"I don't know, that's just what you do. It's basic tact!"

We're outside the door to the lounge now, and he turns to look me in the face. "You know you're a bad liar, right?"

"Good thing I'm not lying."

"Yeah, okay." He exhales heavily. "I don't think so, but I'm gonna let it drop. If you change your mind, though..."

"Yeah, I know."

"Good."

And before I give myself away any more than I already have, I shove through the door and into the lounge.

Joel looks up as we walk in, away from the intense came of ping-pong Ben and Danny are currently engaged in.

"There you two are," he greets us. "And without the police, too. Do I want to know what you've been up to?"

"Just making fools out of ourselves in front of the Cravers," I sigh. "Thanks to that dork."

"You should've warned me earlier if you cared so much," Vince returns easily.

"It's not even the stupid entrance," I groan. "It's all of those sucky pictures of me that are gonna be all over the internet now."

"Nila, don't start or we will too," Dad warns playfully. "Joel's working on a few new parts for the speech, and he'd love a chance to try them out."

"My mouth is closed and his should be too," I shoot back.

The ping-pong game ends with cheers from those cheering for Daniel and groans and boos from anyone on Ben's side, and Grandpa rises from his seat on one of the sofas. "Alright, before any more of that madness starts again," he chuckles, "we should head back to the buses, because we're supposed to be moving out in less than an hour."

Joel checks the time on his phone and hisses in agreement. "I didn't realize it had gotten so late. I believe bed is calling all of us anyway."

"Shall we pray before we go?" Dad puts in, and his older brother nods in agreement.

"We shall. Who's up?"

"You are," Grandpa replies, smirking a little.

Joel inclines his head simply. "Fair. Alright, Mates, circle up."

We obediently move into a circle, as I find my place in between Dad and Joel, and link hands before closing our eyes and bowing our heads.

"Father," Joel begins, "we'd just like to thank you. Thank you for a good show, a good night, a good start to this tour, and all the good things we know you have planned for the days, weeks, and months ahead. Thank you for the love this little band family shares. Thank you for the young at heart like Vince and Nila, who bring life and joy to these tours like no one else. Thank you for blessing us so much, Jesus. I can never express to how grateful I am for my family, my friends, my wife, and all those Cravers who make it possible for me to do what I love. And thank you for the cross, Jesus, and for Your promise to never ever leave us, to be with us until the end of the age. Lord, help us to truly feel that... to feel you with us, empowering us to do Your work, and to feel Your comfort wrapping us up, no matter how badly life hurts. Please continue to teach us what loving like You looks like, and what loving You looks like. Finally, Lord, please rest over Nila's sleep tonight."

I feel my stomach clench but fight not to go tense so that Dad and Joel, attached to each of my hands, will feel it. It gets harder as, with murmurs of, "Amen," and "Yes, Lord," everyone gathers in tighter and lays their gentle hands on me.

"Guard her heart, guard her mind, Father," Joel continues, placing his free hand on my shoulder, with Dad's on my back. "Free her from the past, Lord, restore to her everything that's been taken, and guard her from the demons that haunt her sleep. More than anything, help her to believe in love... pure, unconditional love, from us, and from You."

Don't cry, Nila. I swear to God if you start crying...

"Please be with our wives and children back home," he moves on, "and please guard and protect and hold them in our absence. Help our love for each other to only grow in this time away, and help us to be able to persevere with joy and continue to do Your work with our whole hearts, apart and together. We love You, Lord, and it's in Jesus' Name we pray... amen."

The word is echoed by everyone around the circle as we break apart and everyone starts gathering their stuff to go. Dad picks up his jacket from the back of a chair, slides his phone into his pocket, and wraps his arm around my shoulders to walk back to the bus.

We get there just to have them all grab their clothes and go back in to change into the sweats and t-shirts they sleep in, and I slip into the bathroom to change into my own pajamas while they're gone. I slip into shorts and reach for the cami I grabbed out of sheer habit, but freeze, staring at it. I can't just wear that anymore.

My eyes snap shut against tears of sheer frustration and shame, but I put the shirt on anyway, then yank my hoodie on once more. By the time I've brushed my teeth and washed my makeup off, the guys are beginning to trickle back in as well.

As we pull out of the parking lot and hit the road to the next venue, we all gather in the main room for a tour tradition, which is Grandpa reading a Psalm before we all go to bed. His soothing is almost enough to put me to sleep, especially snugged up against my dad like I am, and by the time he's done, my eyes are closed.

I feel Dad's head move to look down at me, and I can sense the smile in his gaze. He doesn't say anything, just rises carefully and picks me up bridal style to carry me to my bunk. When we're there, I wake myself up enough to grab the ladder and pull myself up the rest of the way. He follows me, sitting beside me with our legs dangling off the edge and once again wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

"I love you, Darling," he murmurs.

I swallow hard, but reply softly, "I love you too."

"I'm right below you," he adds. "So if you need anything, just call. Okay?"

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

He watches me for a long moment before exhaling slowly. "Are you alright, Love?"

I manage a weak smile. "Yeah. Just tired."

He leans over to kiss my head, whispering as he does. "You're a bad liar, you know."

"So I've been told," I sigh.

"If you change your mind..."

Just like with Vince, I cut him off. "I know."

"I love you," he reinforces. "Goodnight, Darling."

"Goodnight, Daddy."

Time-Skip Sponsored by That Song That Just Made Me Cry My Eyes Out When I Looked Up Daddy-Daughter Songs

The blood fills the wound and overflows in direct succession to the touch of the scissors, coming more with each swipe to my skin. It's like it knows it's there to be spilled. The touch of the pain to my arms soothes the screaming in my head and the throbbing inside my chest, makes everything shut off for a minute and give me a chance to breathe.

And it's only a distraction, something to get me through the next several hours. Because after that, the pills I took an hour ago will kick in for real, and it won't be long before I've left this earth and everything in it behind for good.

My moment is ruined by the sharp sound of my door opening. The scissors fall from my hand, but I already know it's too late.

"******* *****, at it again," he growls. "At least you know you deserve it."

I keep my eyes down. I don't want to see him... I don't want him to be there.

He crosses the room and sits down beside me, running his hand down my neck. "***** as you may be," he muses, "I am proud of your mother and I. We did make a pretty little thing, didn't we?"

My entire body tenses at his touch. I take a deep breath, forcing my voice strong. "I want my father."

"Good thing I'm right here," he returns in that horrible, smooth tone.

"I wasn't talking about you."

His hand comes across my face hard, but I don't care. I like pain anyway.

"He wouldn't want you anyway," he taunts. "Not now."

"Yes, he would." The reply is more confident than my heart.

"Why won't we give him a call and see?"

I look up sharply, reading his eyes to see if he's being serious. It seems like he is, and my heart lifts just a little. I'd like to talk to my dad one more time, since it'll be all over before tomorrow.

"That's right... I'll let the two of you talk," he reinforces. "But not without my payment."

It's not like I have anything left to lose anyway. And this will be the last time. Period.

Trying to keep my chin held high despite how thoroughly I disgust myself, I meet his gaze steadily. "I'll pay you after I talk to him."

"Perfect. I'll step out, chat with him a little first, and then I'll come in and hand the phone to you. Then, we have some fun."

I look away sharply, and he leaves the rooms. I can hear his voice through the door, but I can't make out anything that he's saying. Finally, it opens again, and he walks in with his phone in hand. With a cruel smile, he hands it to me. My hand is shaking as I raise it to my ear, and my voice comes out a whisper.

"Daddy?"

His voice on the other line is cold. "Is it true?"

"Is... is what true?" I ask, my voice trembling.

"What he said he did to you?"

My eyes snap shut and my voice cracks, helpless to the tears that quickly overpower me. "Yes. Dad, I... I'm so sorry. I know... I know that's not... it isn't... you don't..."

He cuts me off. "And that you were cutting again just now?"

"I..." More tears. "Yes. I... I'm so..."

I would rather that he yelled than continued in this cold, disappointed voice for a second longer.

"Have you ever heard a word I've said to you?"

"I..."

"I guess," he continues, almost like he doesn't even think he's talking to anyone. "I won't bother to say it to you any longer. He's your real father anyway."

The line goes dead, and everything inside of me shatters.

The smile is written all over my father's face as he closes first the door, then the gap between us.