You Just Love to Hate Me

I woke up to the welcoming smell of bacon and coffee. The muscles in my neck cramped painfully as I sat up and stretched out, realizing that I'd fallen asleep awkwardly on the couch last night. Now my muscles were taking the toll. Stupid drunk Max...

Wait, where was Max? Monte was no where in sight either.

I hope Max didn't get his stupid drunk ass into any trouble last night. All I remember is passing out and Monte cuddled up to my side, Max's head on my lap. I was way beyond tired. With the tour and all the drama between Max, Monte etc, I hadn't had a decent nights rest in days. I guess my body just had enough of being abused and shut down on it's own accord.

“Sleeping Beauty is awake!”

I stumbled into the kitchen and grumbled at Monte's remark as I sat myself down at the table. He was standing with his back to me, at the stove I'm guessing.What a nice ass.

Then I noticed the gorgeous...plate of food that was set in front of me, with a mug of coffee accompanying it, and my eyes almost popped out of their sockets, I swear. I licked my lips hungrily and picked up my knife and fork, itching to dig in.

“Eat then!”

I obeyed, lifting a loaded fork to my lips and shoveling the first mouthful in.

“You can cook!” I exclaimed with a mouthful of scrambled egg. This was simply amazing.

“Don't sounds so surprised. Just because your cooking sucks.”

“That hurt.” I gasped as I finished my mouthful and swallowed. I placed my left hand on my chest and retorted with great sarcasm and drama: “Somewhere, deep deep down, where I should have a heart, you've wounded me fatally.”

My serious expression caused Monte to burst into a fit of giggles and I cracked a smile, his laugh was so insanely sweet, wiping away a fake tear in the process.

“Where's Max?”

Monte shrugged, a faint scowl crossing his face. “He wasn't here when I got up.”

“Aww, are you disappointed that Maxy-boy interrupted our sexy time?” I could read
him so well. I should be able to by now; I've known him long enough.

Monte didn't reply, but a faint blush dusted his cheeks as he took my empty plate and cup and turned away to began to wash them up.

“You are such a girl...C'mon, let's go back down to the bus” I took Monte's hand, crinkled from the washing up water, and led him out the door.
_______________________________________________________________________

“So, Maxy-boy! You aren't dead after all!” The aforementioned looked up from his seat at the table, took one glance at our intertwined hands, but instead of making a snide comment like I expected him to, his gaze continued upwards until it was focused on us. He gave a weak smile.

“No, I'm not.” Max laughed dryly. “Thanks for saving me man, I owe you one.”

“It's no problem; You're pretty amusing to watch drunk actually.” He just smiled sadly at my comment, and I began to get worried. This wasn't like him at all. He's normally full of attitude...now he's like a rag doll, almost lifeless. I wonder if it's anything to do with me and Monte's not-so-secret relationship...In fact, could I even call it that?

Were we in a relationship? I didn't actually know. It was difficult to tell.

Snapping back to reality, I noticed the slip of paper that Max held in his limp hand. He gazed down on it morosely. It appeared to be a letter of some form, but there was no address, just Max's name written on the front in crisp neat handwriting. It looked as if it had already been torn open and read.

“What's that, Max?” I asked with genuine concern, furrowing my brow.

“It's a letter from Ronnie.” He replied despondently, biting his lip, a silent tear making it's path down his face.