You Just Love to Hate Me

Eventually it got too cold to stay out any longer, even though we were huddled together for warmth. So we decided to retreat back to the hotel before it got any colder and our testicles froze off. Our first show in Manchester was tomorrow, so it was crucial to our performance that we were well rested. And what better way to do that than a nice, comfy,soft bed rather than our stupid bunks on the tour bus.

I was beginning to fall asleep just thinking about it.

Craig tugged me into the lift and pressed the button to our floor. Silence loomed. He had a huge, wide smirk on his face, and quite frankly it scared me. I gulped.

Eventually, after a long silence, I cracked. “Why're you looking at me like that Craig?”

His smirk grew bigger. “Just thinking.”

“About...?” Something tells me that I'll regret ever asking.

“Truthfully, you. About how freakin' hot you looked tonight...” He stepped closer, close enough for me to be able to feel his hot, moist breath fanning against my neck. “And all the things I'm going to do to you when we get to my room...”My jeans suddenly got too tight for me as they decided to go on a lil' camping trip. The thoughts of what he was implying invaded my brain.

A ding sounded out as the doors slid smoothly open, interrupting us. I sighed inwardly.

“What's going on her chaps?” Max slurred as he stumbled in to join us. Luckily though, he was too drunk to notice our close proximity to each other, Craig's face practically buried into my neck.

“Where are you going dude?”

“Huh?” The drunken one gave Craig a bleary-eyed look, before trying to press the level four button, missing at every attempt. He stared at the control panel with a befuddled expression on his face. “I'm ish goin' the mai room..”

Max got angry at missing the button and instead decided to punch the offending object. A trickle of blood ran down his knuckle, but he didn't appear to notice or care.

“Your room is on this floor man.” Craig reminded him. Max looked confused again and sat on the floor, covering his face with his arms and withdrawing into himself. A soft whimpering sound echoed. I rolled my eyes. He was crying.

“Max..Max!” Craig shook the sobbing man's arm roughly. He glared up with teary eyes. Damn, how much had he had?

“Max, how much have you had to drink..?” My thoughts were echoed. He merely held up five fingers, mumbling “four” before slumping forwards again, only to be tugged up sharply by Craig by his elbow, pulling him into a standing position. He dragged Max out of the lift and down the corridor. I followed like a ghost, completely forgotten. I know that Craig was only trying to make sure our bassist didn't do something stupid in his drunkenness, and I loved him for being so caring, but I couldn't help feeling a little left out.

We reached the room I presumed to be Craig's, and he unlocked it, letting us all in. Max was mumbling some incoherent nonsense, having stopped crying now. His face lit up as he saw the room. He squealed and ran over to the bed and jumped on it before flying over to the coach and leaping on that. He sure did have mood swings when he was drunk...now he was acting high.

Both of us giggled at his hyperness before looking over at each other and exchanging a lust filled glance. “Later baby” He mouthed at me and winked slowly.

“Whaddafux man?” Max stared down at his clothes, completely bewildered. I wore a confused expression too....what was he on about this time? To our surprise, he removed his top and then jeans, falling over them when he couldn't get them past his ankles. Laying face down on the floor, he simply giggled, commenting on “how nice the carpet smells.”

“Nap time...” Max murmured from his position on the floor.

“Give us a hand?” Craig asked, walking over to hook his arm under Max's armpit. I nodded and took the other one. We hauled the giggling and shrieking man up, and set him on the couch, to my disappointment, in between us. I rested my arm over the back whilst Max chatted more incoherent nonsense. It appeared as if he was talking to thin air.

I felt something touch my fingers lightly and looked over to see Craig's hand rested on mine. I smiled at him and he returned it, linking our fingers. We stared at each other, smiling like fools, all the while Max was talking, completely unaware of our intertwined hands just inches behind his head.

Damn Max for interrupting a moment yet again.

Suddenly said man stopped, mid sentence, and his head lolled back onto our hands, eyes shut. He was out for the count.

Darn it, he's trapped us. Which means we can't sneak into the bathroom without waking Max up.

Screw you Max, screw you..