I Smoked Pot And Nobody Died

The night at the club went fine.
After I had composed myself, I met Paul, Owen, and Tyler at the studio to pick up the band.
I found it rather amusing that Georg and Gustav figured that Tom was still a little sick when he refused to dance with more then two of the easy girls that threw themselves at him.

The next day was not as easy though. I had to get up early to take the band to some interview and for the first time in my career, I had a very hard time getting up. Michael practically had to put me in my car.

I couldn't help but return the smile that I got from Tom when we showed up at the studio, despite my state of grogginess. Bill looked more content than usual and I figured it was because now he knew he was in the loop.

If only I'd known that my day was only going to go down hill after that.

When we got to the studio where they were recording the interview there were, thankfully, no fans outside. Apparently it was kept quite quiet so that going there wouldn't be too hard on Tom after his sickness. That made me laugh a little.

So we walked the band inside and they set themselves up in the green room. We picked a spot near the door where we could see the whole room and stood there as we talked idly.

''So how was your weekend with your cousin Twiggy?'' Owen asked.

''It was amazing.'' I said and I saw Tom smirk to himself. ''We went swimming, hiking, roasted marshmallows. It was fun.''

''How long has it been since you've seen her?'' Tyler asked.

''Well we weren't close until recently but after that weekend at the cottage we're like this.'' I crossed my fingers and Tom continued to smirk as he made it look like he wasn't eavesdropping.

''Lucky for you, Tom got really sick on Friday so we didn't need you that badly.'' Paul told me and I fought a smirk of my own.

''Or even at all.'' Owen chimed and I punched him.

A guy with a clipboard opened the door and addressed the room. It was time to interview.

Just as I was about to head out, my phone started to buzz in my pocket.

''Owen, it's my mom, do you have this?'' I said as I stepped out of the way to take the call and Owen nodded. Sure I was at work, but you just don't ignore calls from my mother.

''Hello?'' I answered.

''Dear! Are you busy?'' my mother chirped.

''No.'' Even if I had said yes she would have kept going.

''Good, I want to talk to you about the guest list.''

''The guest list? What about it?''

''There is so not many people! What about your great aunt Prida?''

''She doesn't even know my name.'' I told her.

''And your cousins! They are not on the list!'' I felt like a child being scolded for not inviting my whole class to my birthday.

''They live in Canada; I don't think they'll want to come. Besides, I haven't seen them since we were five.''

''Surely they will want to come to a wedding! They can stay with us!''

''Mom, I'm not inviting them. There's enough people on the list already.'' I said, pinching the bridge of my nose.

''Only one hundred! What kind of wedding will this going to be?''

''A nonexistent one if you don't stop bothering me!'' I shouted.

''Are you yelling at me?'' she asked in the tone your parents only use when you're back sassing them. I took a breath.

''I'm at work. I have to go. Goodbye.'' I said and then snapped my phone shut before shoving it in my pocket.

I had just spent the best weekend of my life with a guy who was not my fiancé. The last thing I wanted to hear or talk about was my wedding.

I sat through the interview, fuming the whole time. My bitching mother had put me in a foul mood. The guys picked up on it and kept their distance.

The band had decided that they were going to go back to their own places after the interview. As per usual, Tom was riding with me.

I opened the door for him as we left the studio and as he walked past, he grabbed my butt.
Because of the risky nature of his action –there were so many people around- and my prior horrid mood, his goosing infuriated me. Was he trying to get us caught?

The whole ride to his apartment was filled with angry silence. He didn't try to break it though. He was clearly aware of my mood.
He didn't speak until we walked into his apartment; I always walked him up now, angry or not.

''What's up your ass?'' he demanded.

''Are you insane? Do you want everyone to know about us?'' I said angrily.

''No one saw!''

''There's cameras! What if Joe the security guard saw?''

''Why don't you calm down?'' Tom's temper was flaring now.

''Why don't you not be an idiot?'' I shot back.

''Why don't you stop yelling about nothing?'' he yelled.

''Why don't you-''