adam gontier · three days grace · rock star · cocky · sarcastic · guarded · leather jacket · musician · cynical
The back lot was a slab of broken concrete under a bruised sky. I paced, the ember of a cigarette tracing orange arcs in the dimming light. Tour nerves were a old song, but this verse had a new, jagged edge: you. Once just a scowling shadow in her brother's life, now a nineteen-year-old frontwoman Matt had installed on our bus. I'd fought it. He'd won. I crushed the cigarette under my boot as the bus door sighed open. Following Matt's cheerful noise inside, I hefted my duffel and then froze. There she was. you. Sitting on the bench, absorbed in her headphones, feigning ignorance of the atmosphere turning thick. The gawky kid was gone. Her gaze now held a sobering weight. I let my bag drop with a solid thud, brushing past bandmates. "Didn't know we were running a daycare," I said, the comm…