You're Beautiful to Me

“I think I’ll just play the show like this tonight.” Monster gestured grandly to his attire.
“Our first time in Cardiff,” Drew sniggered, “And you want to wear pajamas.”
“Pff, what’re you wearing, a prom dress?” Monster cracked open the fridge and pulled out the great big carton of orange juice. “It’s five o’clock in the bloody morning and I don’t feel like getting dressed today.”
Mark looked in literal pain; Monster was becoming very fond of the word ‘bloody’ and used it as often as possible— this was likely because Bristol was quite fond of the word ‘bloody’ as well, and a blind man could see how smitten Monster was with her already. We all thought it was adorable but Mark was getting irritated fast.
“Monster, say ‘bloody’ one more time and you’ll be using it to describe YOURSELF—”
“Oh very smart threat, Mark, come up with that on your own?”
“—And, I beg of you, don’t impress the name of Rush And Ruin upon Wales wearing nightwear.”
“Playing our first Cardiff show in my pajamas because I am fucking top banana,” Monster bellowed in the best English accent he could muster. He finished by taking a great swig of juice.
“OhmyGodNO.” Drew snatched the carton from his hands and pulled a red Dixie cup from the cabinet. “One more time from the carton and we’re sending you to the fucking pound, I swear…”
I had the strongest urge to facepalm at how ridiculous my band was in the mornings. I was still all a’fucked sleep-wise from our flight, so I had gotten up at four am, playing Mario Kart at the lowest volume possible. Somehow my band had superhearing even in their sleep. It was now five and I had spent the last ten minutes listening to my [likewise jetlagged] friends bitch and moan and discuss concert attire. I gave up on Mario when they started backseat driving.
The only person still asleep was Levi (of course) in the back room, snoring contently, a sound that miffed us all since it sounded like such a lovely state to be for one to be in before the sun and the bus driver had risen. (Drew mumbled something about 'Desert Disaster.') Mark, Drew, and Monster were still in their verbal jousting match when I decided to throw on a ratty sweater, grab yet another cup of coffee, and find some way to distract them—
Someone knocked on the bus door. For lack of anything else to do—and because I was the only person not occupied with yelling—I opened it to find Bristol, Harvey, Quinn, Bert, Gloria, Sean, Mikey and Molly standing there.
“Top o’ the mornin’.” You’ll never guess who said THAT. “We’re all awake. We heard you shouting. We’re bored. We brought Monopoly.”
Godsend if there ever was one.
Everyone started piling into the bus. Before the tech kids could notice I slyly stepped off and hugged my brother good morning.
“Hey kid,” Mikey said quietly, kissing the top of my head. “Sleep okay?”
“Meh, alright,” I shrugged. “Not for very long.” Mikey nodded in understanding. “Where’s Gerard?”
“Back at the bus. He couldn’t sleep at all last night; I went to the drug store on the corner at two to get a hot patch for his back. I guess he threw it out really hard.”
“Yeah, I saw it, not surprising he’s in pain. In all honesty I didn’t want to tell any of them how bad their injuries really were. I had to send Dan in to get stitches last night after he ripped his gash open onstage, so I assume he and Jeph are still there, and Mollers will be okay (and a lot less bitchy if you can believe it), but with Gee I knew he’d just… well, overreact, let’s say.”
“I asked if he wanted to tag along but he said he was too sore. When I left he was just reading; seemed pretty down, though.”
I frowned. “Gerard’s been like that a lot lately. Have you noticed or is it just me?”
“Kind of, yeah,” Mikey said, “but he might just be a little homesick. We hadn’t really been to see Mom and Dad for a while until just before we left.”
“I guess so... but I hate leaving him on that bus by himself.”
“Ray and Frank ought to wake up soon. He’ll be okay.”
“I’ll pop in and visit before we pull out—“
“OY. MIKEY. CLAYAH. ON THE BLEEDIN’ BUS ALREADY.”
“Alright, sass attack, we’re coming!” I yelled back to Bristol.
Mikey and I gave one another a last quick hug before boarding the bus. We walked in to see Monster on one of the longue couches with a paralyzed face and the inability to stop staring at Bristol. She didn’t seem to notice, however, as she was currently having some music-related conversation with Quinn.
“Uh oh,” I mumbled to Mikey. “This should be fun.”
“What should?”
I pointed to Monster at the same moment he began to stand. In a very un-Monster-like fashion, he wiped sweaty palms on his shirt and smoothed the Ginger Danger.
“Holy shit,” Mikey gasped. “Did he just...?” I nodded slowly and sadly.
When Bristol seemed to be getting closer to him, Monster plastered a nervous smile on his face and put his shaking hands at his side.
“Morning, Bristol.” While he had avoided stammering his balls seemed to have shriveled up with fear and kicked his voice five octaves higher. Bristol either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Wotcher, Monster,” she said. “Alright?”
“Fine, yeah… fine.” He cleared his throat. “Uh…so… good morning.”
Bristol grinned sideways. “You already said that.”
Monster turned as red as his hair. “Heh, yeah, uh, guess I did… heh.”
“Always graceful, Monster,” Mikey said.
Mark only then seemed to notice the crowd. He stopped being busy with texting GodKnowsWho and looked up to raise an eyebrow, asking, “Why.”
“Because we love you Mark!” Bert tackled Mark in a bear hug only he was capable of delivering—that is, squeezing so hard that your eyes start to bug out of your head like a stress-relief toy.
“Okay then, whatever,” Mark wheezed, “Bert, RELEASE. Thank you, my god. So! What’s the shenanigan you bring hence?”
“Such assumptions,” Gloria guffawed. “What makes you think we can’t just come to pay a little visit? Why must it be shenanigans?”
“Gloria my dear,” Harvey said blandly, “You are the queen of shenanigans.” Gloria smiled proudly.
“Morning Muffin Butt.” Mollers may have been drowsy and crippled, but she still summoned the energy to hop up and clutch me like the affectionate koala exhaustion makes of her. I patted her head.
“HUZZAH!” Sean held the Monopoly board high over his head and swerved his way through the mass, plopping down on the floor at the line between living space and kitchen. “Monopoly time. Everyone sit.”
I shook Mollers off as best as possible and took a seat on the couch. Avoiding kicking Sean, I made an effort to sit near the kitchen counter. Because of the proximity to the coffee pot. Obviously.
My brother was oblivious to this. “Ooo, coffee. Stealing.” He grabbed a mug and filled it to practically the brim, and then wedged in on my right, resting the cup on the counter when he wasn’t sipping from it. Of course this did not bother me.
Not at all.
“Can someone flip on the telly? I wanted to check the weather.”
“Teehee,” Drew chuckled opposite Sean. “Telly.”
“Button it.”
“Tsk tsk,” Monster said, now mostly recovered. “Making yourself look like a fool to the Irish boy. But Sean, I believe the telly’s knackered.” He let out a ridiculous giggle.
“Chirst, did you just learn this slang overnight?” Sean rolled his eyes.
“And you called Drew the fool,” Quinn added.
Sean straightened up and said matter-of-factly, “Cé air a bhfuil níos mó ideal: an amadán—“ he gave a wise nod that flashed the name ‘Albus Dumbledore’ through my mind—“nó an amadán a leanann air?”
“I beg your pardon?” Drew said.
“Irish. ‘Who is more foolish: the fool or the fool who follows him?’ ”
My jaw hit the floor. Since the annoyed twinge—due to Molly’s bathroom accusations (what an interesting experience that was)—had formed a cautious tumor on my brain, I didn’t care to openly display my feelings toward something that could lead others to assume I had feelings toward Sean.
But that. That moment there?
Pretty much the sexiest thing ever.
“Another one of you’re ol’ Irish proverbs, Sean?” Harvey rolled his eyes. “Honey, love you to bits, but you’re such a cliché.”
Sean saw my shocked face. His eyes sparkled. (No seriously, like a legit sparkle, it was trippy.) “I reckon Clayah knows what I’m talking about. And Mikey.”
“Hell yes,” Mikey laughed, high-fiving Sean. I tried not to be annoyed by the fact I did not receive said high-five as well.
“Enlighten us,” Bristol said.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi. Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope.” The sad part was Mikey and I said this simultaneously.
Mollers rolled her eyes. “I should have known it was a nerd thing.” I elbowed her in the ribs.
“You even knew the episode,” Sean marveled. Holy shit, was I blushing? Over Star Wars?!
I cleared my throat. “Anywhore. Weather.” I took the remote and skipped through the channels ‘till I came across BBC. Meanwhile Gloria set up Monopoly.
“Dibs on banker,” Molly insisted, holding out her hands for the colorful currency.
“Bad idea.” Mark pointed at her. “You will get WAY too anal about this.”
“And? At least I’ll be keeping it fair.”
“Fair, yes,” Bert said. “But you’ll be making noises like a strangled pterodactyl if anyone even touches bank money.”
“Dinosaurs are cool. Give me the fucking cash.”
“It’s easier not to fight her,” I shrugged.
Molly and Gloria shared the top hat piece, Mark and Drew took the boxcar, Quinn and Bert were the money bag, Sean and Monster the shoe, Bristol and Harvey claimed the thimble, and Mikey and I took the Scottie dog.
But Drew, in being Drew, had to make the entire thing “systematic.”
“It only makes sense that Bristol would take the Scottie,” she said, “and Molly and Gloria should swap with Quinn and Bert—what with Molly being banker she should have the money bag.”
“OCD much?” Quinn said.
“Oh shit.” Mark closed his eyes. “You had to get her started, here comes the eggbert voice—“
“No, Quinn,” Drew said in her eggbert voice, “I am not ‘OCD.’ I am not ‘Obsessive Compulsive Disorder’ because that makes no sense.” Her air quotes were so violently spiteful it seemed she was trying to scratch the air of Quinn’s grammatical faux pas from around her. “I am not a disorder and therefore it makes more sense just to call me ‘obsessive compulsive.’” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Which I’m not.”
“Clearly,” Harvey mumbled.
“I’m logical!” Drew defended. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“Why do I have the feeling I will be losing this game?” Bristol sniffed.
Mollers dealt out money whilst Sean waited through the commercials—pardon, adverts—for the weather. One of the ads came on featuring sad music and even sadder looking dogs.
“Oh my gossshhhh,” Sean gushed, “They are so cute!”
“Adopt ‘em all, why don’t you,” Molly deadpanned. She rested her sleepy head on my shoulder and grumbled something about a checkbook.
“Brilliant!” Sean reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
“Oh he’s not serious,” Bert said.
“Trust me, I’ve been living with him on a bus,” Gloria responded. “He totally is.”
“Oy, bit of hush, thanks.” Sean had his phone to his ear. “Yeah, hi, morning mate. Listen: I make about fifteen quid a week, or, well, less, but those puppies are PRECIOUS—“
“Come off it, Sean,” Bristol said, “you’re sounding barking mad already.”
“And there are sweet innocent puppies that will literally be ‘barking’ mad unless I save them, Bristol!” Sean hissed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m still here, sorry. Anyway… wait, what?... no, no, I don’t make up to… I just told you how many pounds I make!… what do you mean ‘qualified’?”
Mark started to chuckle. “This shouldn’t be amusing. And yet…”
“You’re sick, bro,” Quinn said, but he looked just as amused.
“But they’re puppies!” Sean insisted to the man on the phone. “And you’re ruddy advert says ‘every penny counts’ and—no no NO, what kind of rubbish is this about incomes?”
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Molly stretched out her arm and snatched Sean’s cell phone, punching the red button. “Lucky Charms, you cannot adopt, or sponsor, or whatever, every dog in Britain.”
“I sure can try, Boo Berry!” He wiggled his fingers, “Now give back me phone.”
“I think Molly might have a long lost brother,” Mikey said to me, “’Cause he’s an Irish Frank if there ever was one. Drew, I vote Sean gets the dog.”
“NO. My points make more sense.”
“Shit, Drew, take a joke.”
“Well pardon me for losing a sense of humor, considering I’m being attacked about it.”
“Oh sweetie, we’re not attacking you, you’re damned clever—“
“I KNOW I AM!”
“GIVE BACK ME MOBILE!”
“ ‘Boo Berry’?” I said to Molly curiously. She was too busy trying to keep Sean’s lanky arms from reaching the phone in her clutches to answer.
“Sean’s obviously losing the game,” Bert said, “considering his penny wise, pound-and-pooch foolishness.”
“Bite me, Bert.”
“SHIT, Bert!” Mikey groaned. “You just made me lose The Game!” The rest of the crowd forgot their own tiffs and started cursing Mikey.
Once we finally got going (to shut Drew up we went along with her “logic”) I started thinking… stealth as I could be I pulled out my phone and started to text.
Mikey noticed and gently took my hand, whispering, “Clayah, stop worrying, he’s okay.”
“I know he is,” I whispered back. “But I’m allowed to miss my own brother.”
“Think about it, though: with luck Gerard’s probably fallen asleep by now. Do you really wanna wake him?” He had a point. I took his advice and stashed my phone again as Mikey tossed the dice.
“You know, what I never understood about Monopoly,” Mark said as I moved the silver thimble six spaces, “is how all of these places seem to have the stable ground on which to build hotels.”
“You’re starting to sound like Drew,” Gloria snorted. Drew slapped Gloria’s leg. “I love you.” Drew flipped her off so Gloria just blew her an air kiss.
“Seriously though! Come on, no one can build a hotel on a boardwalk.”
“I don’t think it’s an actual boardwalk, Shark,” I said flatly. “I mean, like, there’s no actual King of Burgers that runs Burger King.”
“Bullshit,” Bert said as he shook the dice in his hand. “There is totally a King of Burgers. Who else is the dude in the commercials?” he grinned.
Mark frowned, “Why do I feel like you’re mocking me?”
“Because I’m mocking you.”
“I am hurt.”
“Join the club.”
“ ‘Damned clever’, I said!”
“Fuck off.”
“SHIT!” Quinn had drawn a card and shown it to Bert. “Jail.”
“That’s not the first time The Used has been in jail,” I said to Mollers, who giggled.
Gloria overheard and titled her head at me. “Huh?”
“Oh, don’t ask me! Bert, Quinn, would one of you care to tell the jail story?”
Quinn pointed threateningly in my direction, watching Bert, who mimicked me under his breath as he moved their piece. “You know perfectly well that was only Jeph’s fault.”
“Regardless.”
“AWWW! THEY’RE BACK!” Sean had flipped channels to find another weather station and come across his precious puppies again. “And now there’s a kitty too!”
“Can someone turn off the TV?” Harvey rolled his eyes when Sean went to guard the remote with his life.
“What’s all the fucking RACKET out here?” The bunk room door slid open to reveal Levi, tousled with sleep, standing only in his boxers and
“Is that my hat?” I snapped.
“Morning to you, too,” Levi yawned.
“Yeah yeah, morning, take Ahab off.”
Sean forgot his puppies. “ ‘Ahab’?”
“I name my hats. I love my hats. Levi, take it off.”
“No, my hair is messy.”
“Dude it’s just US.”
“Yeah, and some crazy congregation of people.”
“Who don’t care about how you look.”
“BLIMEY!” Bristol had just looked up at Levi. “Put some clothes on!”
“See?”
“Bristol’s the only exception.”
“Fuck you, a pair of trousers wouldn’t kill him!”
“Oh, I dunno,” Harvey dwelled, “it doesn’t bother me.”
“Well it wouldn’t, then, would it?”
“Obviously.”
Levi smiled. “Well, if Harvey’s fine with it. And thank you, Harvey, my self esteem has just been upped.” He opened the fridge and grinned to himself. “Even gay guys think I’m pretty.” Bristol slapped Harvey’s arm.
“Whatever,” I sniffed. “Just give me Ahab.” Levi gave up and tossed the hat to me, which I dusted off and donned myself.
“Oh, Ahab,” Gloria said. “I get it now.”
“Where on Earth did you get a ship captain’s hat?” Sean asked.
“Maryland.”
“Man, that place was fun,” Mollers reminisced. “Loved the Maryland show.”
“You loved moshing at the Maryland show, you mean,” Mikey said.
“Back when I could mosh,” Mollers lamented.
I patted her arm sympathetically. “You should only be off it for a week or so. It’s not that bad.”
Mollers was somewhat contented by this, and when she was distracted by her turn, Mikey whispered in my ear, “So how bad is it really?”
“Well, it should be less purple in a week or so,” I whispered back.
“YES. FUCKING YES.” Molly flipped through her money. “Reading Railroad like a boss.”
“Damn, calm down, Iero.” Levi rubbed his eyes and sipped his orange juice (from a cup, which pleased Drew greatly). “Do you have some sick fetish for Reading Railroad?”
“Yes, I do,” Molly responded. “And there is nothing wrong with that.” Levi’s face said otherwise.
“Scoot over, Mikey.” We all shifted and Levi sat himself down. I disliked this, as I was now separated from Sean by two people instead of one. “Who’s winning?”
“We just started. But it’s Drew.”
“Figures.”
“I’m taking that as a compliment, you two. And Levi, you’ve never won a game of Monopoly in your life.”
“No I have not. Proud of it, too.”
“There’s a reason why you’re never allowed to spend our money.”
“Hi, yes, I called not too long ago, but whoever I was speaking to was not particularly pleasant—“
“HOW’D HE GET HIS PHONE BACK?!”
“When you shifted in your seat to get the property card it fell down and Sean picked it up.” I sipped my coffee.
Molly stared at me. “And you didn’t stop him because…?” Then, she grinned. I averted my eyes. “Sean, your weather’s on—“
“SHH! No not you...”
“What’s happening here?” Levi asked.
“Sean’s fighting with the ASPCA, or some-such.”
“Ha! Frank.”
“That’s what I said.”
“NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME.” Sean was on his feet now. Everyone went silent and stopped what they were doing to listen. “I FUCKING LOVE PUPPIES. AND KITTIES. And I’m SURE you’re hiding some sad bunnies back there too—don’t lie to me now, I know you’re just denying it—so it’s RIDICULOUS that you’re telling me I CAN’T send in money. So yes, I’ll hang up—I AM TALKING—I’ll hang up, but if you get a knock on you’re door and, ‘oh! Jolly day, Prime Minister!’, losing all you got, you’ll KNOW it was me. Got it? ME! Cheers, you puppy-hating GIT!” Sean angrily punched his thumb to hang up his phone. He huffed and puffed for a few moments, and we silently watched him do so.
“I don’t know if I should initiate a slow clap or not,” Monster finally whispered.
That did me in; I noisily deflated in a hysterical sputter, absolutely dying now. Everybody stared at my and I gasped, “I’m… I’m sorry, but… he said ‘jolly day’ and I just…” I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to continue explaining myself. But pretty soon they all joined in too, leaving Sean staring.
“Oh, think it’s funny, do you?” he fumed. “Think me little spat to save some puppies is amusin’? Fine then, have a laugh.” The huffiness was fading, however, a grin creeping across Sean’s face whether he liked it or not. So—not sure why—I stood up, still laughing, and wrapped my arms around his torso.
I meant it to come off as a we-love-you-bro hug, but something backfired. Sean, spindly as he was, could drape one arm over my shoulders and cover me, easy, so he did. He may have meant it as a yeah-love-and-hate-you-guys-too gesture, but he lingered a little too long, gave my shoulders a squeeze instead of a patronizing pat, and I didn’t feel so sure. I was a little too comfortable feeling like a puzzle piece; I fit just perfectly to Sean and his arm fell over me naturally, like it had been there a million times, life across life…
Mr. Caution Tumor twitched. Sean brushed me off just in time. “Har har, I get it,” he said, chuckling. “Just get back to the game, eh?”
The game progressed; a while later the windows turned a soft shade of blue, and something about that made me feel drowsy. I let my head tip onto Mikey’s shoulder and let him handle most of the gameplay, only piping up to inform someone when they owed us rent. Just when my surroundings started becoming pretty little blurs I heard the bus door open, and the voice of the driver letting everyone know we were about to take off for Cardiff. Drew documented the stopping point of the game, vowing to Quinn that their new rivalry was unfinished.
I felt Mikey give a little nudge and start to stand. “Hey, kid, come on, we’re taking off.”
“Mmfumf,” I responded. My head fell onto Levi’s lap
“I second that,” Mollers muttered, now sliding from leaning on my left shoulder to rest her head comfortably in the curve between my hips and ribs. “Tell Frank I’m sleeping here.”

I heard Mikey make a guttural noise I knew to be his “I want to give in but I feel I should exert some sort of authority” sound. “Mollers, you know Frank doesn’t like to be TOLD things like this—“
CRASH!
I jolted upright, tossing up Molly’s head in my wake, seeing Drew turning absolutely purple
“DAMMIT JAYCE!” she cried. I tipped my head down to see Jayce romping in Monopoly money as he tried to bat at the shiny game pieces, splattering cards everywhere. “WHEN DID YOU WAKE UP, ANYWAY?”
“Don’t yell at him, Drew,” I yawned. “He likes shiny things, he can’t help it.” I heard Sean and Mikey chuckle.
Monster’s head poked out the bunk room door. “Sorry, I let him out of the back longue,” he said. “Didn’t mess anything up, did he?” Drew looked like she could have throttled him.
“Drew.” Sean stood in front of her and gingerly helped her to her feet. “I think you ought to go in back and get a little kip on the way, yeah?”
Drew gave a sideways glance of irritation toward Jayce, who was now on his hind legs, trying to reach her hand to lick it. She bent her knees just slightly so he could do so and seemed to soften. “Fine,” she said begrudgingly, “G’night, then.” She tramped over the remnants of her precious Monopoly board to the bunk room—she didn’t hold back a rough shoulder bump to Monster that made him squawk a little.
“Psh, I’m going back to bed, too, then.” Levi scratched Jayce’s head and then stood, leaving me no pillow to fall back on. I settled to use my arm instead as Levi and Monster both vanished from sight.
“Where’d Mark go?” I grumbled.
“Back to his bunk, too,” Mikey said. “And if you’re tired you should go to yours.”
“Meh meh meh,” I mimicked. “This spot’s all warm now. Not moving.”
“Fine, whatever; Molly, up.” With a grunt the weight vanished from my midriff. My eyes were closed again but I still heard a couple weak slaps as Mollers tried to stand on her own, resulting in an almost toppling noise and another grunt as Mikey let Molly onto his back. “Sleep tight, Clayah.”
I flapped my unused arm. Legit waves were so mainstream.

Snuffle. Snuffle. SNUFFLE. Paw to my boob. Another snuffle. Wet nose on my face. SNUFFLE.
“Okay, okay.” I didn’t open my eyes as I lightly shooed Jayce away. “I’m up, I’m up.”
Jayce gave a little woof of satisfaction when I sat up and rubbed my eyes. The bus was in motion now, the light in the blind-covered windows far more prominent. I rose, stretched, and walked toward the cabinet under the sink where Jayce sat waiting patiently. I scurried him out of the way to open it for him—there sat his food bowl (secured with some strange material Monster wouldn’t define but assured would hold as he continued to pry apart his fingers with a plastic fork), which I refilled, and then left him to his meal.
I settled back under my blanket and laid my head on my pillow.
Wait.
Blanket? Pillow?
Whatever.
What felt like moments later a sleepy Mark was prodding me.
“Clayah. Clayah, wake,” he commanded.
“Even Jayce wakes me more politely than you do,” I whined. “Whaddo you want?”
“Frank texted me. We’re pulling over for donuts and coffee and tea for the Brits.”
“We’ve all got coffee.”
“Your brothers ran out.”
“Shocking.”
I heard Mark chuckle. “It’s just up ahead, Frank said like twenty minutes. Move your feet.” I lifted them briefly just to plop them back on Mark’s feet.
“I’m amazed.” I saw Drew sit down across from me. “We raise hell back there, she sleeps like a rock, but then you POKE her, and BAM!—” Drew clapped her hands for effect—“she awakens.”
“How long have you been raising said hell?” I yawned.
“Hours, at least. Monster and Levi vanished into the back longue not too long after we all woke up, but Mark and I haven’t exactly been sneaky mice.”
I snorted. “You have the most ridiculous little phrases.”
“You love them.”
“Never said I didn’t JAYCE, OW.”
Jayce looked at me as if to ask “what’d I do?” as he sat upright on my chest. He’d pawed some serious pain on the way but now seemed content. I groaned and sat up to sit him on my lap. Drew had her computer out and started reading me and Mark some of the crazy Tweets fans had sent her when the door to the bunk room slid open.
Jaws dropped at the sight of Monster. Drew gasped, almost dropping her laptop on the floor. Mark seemed sure the apocalypse had come. Even Jayce gave a little whimper.
"Monster," I said slowly," did you... comb your hair?"
"And is that a clean shirt?"
"I smell cologne--"
"A reek of Listerine, too--"
"Well he held strong to the pajama PANTS idea at least--"
"ALRIGHT." Monster grumpily looked at his feet. Levi popped up in the door behind him.
"I am a magician," Levi grinned. He gestured to the newly groomed Monster. "Meet my rabbit."
"You did all that?" Drew gaped. "What... what have you DONE."
Levi scoffed. "Excuse me, your sassiness, but this fellow is now gorgeous."
"I smell like a bloody Bath And Body Works," Monster mumbled. Mark's eyes rolled.
"But why?" I asked. "You tamed the Ginger Danger. That's just, like, blasphemous or some shit."
Drew gasped. "Oh. My. God." A you-like-Krabby-Patties-don't-you-Squidward grin broke out on her face. "You're all spiffied up for Bristol, aren't you?!"
Monster turned as red as his hair. "Maybe." He started to nervously scratch his head-- Levi smacked his hand away.
"No touch. You'll mussy it up again."
Mark's face went flat. "My God, Levi, you're fucking Tyra or some shit."
"And Monster's your Ken doll," I giggled.
"Bristol is hardly Barbie. She's more Rambo than anything."
Monster looked up from the ground then. His chest puffed out, a stern frown on his face. "Bristol McKay," he said strongly, "Is ten times more bloody brilliant than Sylvester Stalone could ever dream."
"Ouch."
"Furthermore, she doesn’t NEED to be--" he raised his hands in air quotes and mimicked, "--'Barbie' to be lovely, because fuck, she just IS. Bristol is strong, well spoken, funny...." Monster trailed off as his tough facade melted away to slumped shoulder and a dreamy look.
I crossed my arms and looked down solemnly. "Ladies and gentlemen: we gather here today to mourn the loss of the last scrap of Blake Hunter Austin's dignity."
"Hey man," Mark held up his hands to stop me. "True as that may be, at least Monster's found somebody. It's not like he was ever particularly suave before—"
"Hey!"
"—so if he's smitten we should be happy for him."
Monster smiled. "Thank you Mark."
The bus jerked to a halt as we pulled up to a little coffee shop. Monster's face suddenly washed with terror.
Drew mumbled, "Here he goes."
"OhGodIcan'tdoit,"Monster panicked. "ThisisridiculousMark'srightI'mnotsuaveatallohfuckingAnonononono--"
Levi slapped Monster hard across the face, stunning him. Ah, best friendship. "Listen," Levi growled, "I spent two hours making you presentable. More than half that time was wrestling those awful tangles from your hair (seriously dude just brush ONCE in a while) and I am NOT going to let you freak out now."
"But---"
"No buts! Now." Levi steered Monster toward the door and gave him a “manly” slap on the butt. "Go get her, tiger!"
Monster was probably about to hyperventilate. He wobbled all the way out the door and into the coffee shop.
"Well done." Drew clapped Levi on the shoulder. "Think it'll work?"
"Pff, the hell if I know, I just bullshitted all that. Poor thing's screwed." He strode out the door. "Seriously the worst two hours ever...”

As soon as I walked in the shop I found myself scanning the place for Clayah. I peeked over heads. Subtly of course. Trying for subtle, anyway. I could be such a girl sometimes.
But who could blame me, really? I mean, Clayah Shier; she may have been younger than me, yeah, but I had always looked up to her, since I first found Rush And Ruin. I’d never really thought about her before in… that sense, and honestly I still didn’t. Not really. I just enjoyed her company. A lot. And her laugh, and her cute mannerisms, and the she always smelled vaguely off coffee and sweat that was more attractive instead of gross, and the way I felt when one of us caught the other looking a little too long—
I spotted a violet spot at the counter claiming a cup of coffee and a donut companion.
I straightened up, cleared my throat, and strode over. By the time I'd snaked through the crowd to reach her she was standing with her band.
" Jolly day," I greeted. I saw Clayah’s back hunch in laughter. Then heard her choke on the donut she’d bitten into.
“Shit!” I gasped. “I didn’t know—” She gave me a thumbs up but continued hacking. “Dammit I’m so—”
"It’s okay, I’m f—” She couldn’t finish and started another coughing fit. It was either have her death on my hands or thump her on the back. With one last cough she recovered.
“Sorry,” I said meekly.
Clayah waved off the apology. “It’s cool, I’ll just Lord it over you forever.” Even when I nearly killed her she took it in good spirit. “Anywhore: Perfect timing. Mind giving some sort of manly pep talk to Monster?" She jerked her head across to their little sitting circle.
I spotted Monster; shifty eyed and for some reason quite nervous, his hands shook as he tried to nurse a cup of tea and a sugar-covered donut.
"Blimey," I said. "What's wrong with him?"
"Lovestruck hysteria," Clayah said, shaking her head. She peeked over at me. "Bristol."
We crossed the shop and sat at the table as processed this. I think I nearly scared Clayah into spilling coffee on herself (and made Monster jerk like a startled rabbit) when I suddenly burst, "OH! Does he fancy her or something?"
"One way to put it," Drew chuckled on my other side. "Monster's not exactly a ladies man."
"You're really boosting up my self esteem here, guys."
"Sorry."
"Hey, mate." I reached out my hand to the middle of the table in a comforting gesture to Monster. "I'm sure you're a lot better with them than you're cracking yourself up to be. " I looked over my shoulder. "Speaking of, guess who just walked in?"
Monster peered over me and his eyes widened. "Holyfreakinghell."
"Come on!" I stood up and walked over to Monster, pulling his wobbly form up from the chair by the bicep. "Just give it a try. You can't just do nothing, or you'll regret it later."
"Well... what do I say?"
Mark gestured to his mouth. "Hey, you've got sugar on your lips, bro,"
I noticed a coat of glittering cane sugar from the donut on Monster's lips. He, on the other hand, took it completely wrong. He nodded madly.
"A little forward but it might work." He took a deep breath and started toward Bristol.
"NO!" Mark tried to call after him. "I mean literally!"
"I know, I know," Monster snapped. "Confidence, I got it."
"Monster."
At that point it was too late. Bristol was waiting for her order by the counter when Monster swaggered up to her.
"Oh shit... this won't end well." Clayah's brow furrowed in worry.
"Like I said." Levi took a long draw of coffee. "Screwed."
Monster tried to be smooth by leaning his elbow on the counter, putting one hand on his hip, and crossing his feet at the ankles.
"Goooood morning, Bristol." You could tell he was trying to hide the stutter. Which kind of worked. A bit. "You're looking lovely."
Bristol turned to him with a raised eyebrow. After we returned to the bus we’d all gone back to bed; now she was decked in jammies with no makeup yet and her bright hair stuck up all over. In all honesty she looked like hell. And was well aware of her arse currently being kissed.
"That’ll make it the third time you’ve said that.”Bristol wasn’t snide or mean, but smiled. “And thanks.” She turned back to the counter to wait.
Monster cleared his throat. "Uh, so," he stumbled, "There's, uh... sugar all over my lips."
Bristol slowly turned her head to look at him. He winked at her.
Bristol’s face folded into frightened disgust.
"Yeeeah," she said suspiciously. "Might wann’ta get a napkin for that." Her tea arrived and she nodded to Monster, walking away with a quick odd glance over her shoulder.
Monster's face had fallen. He slumped back over to us in shock.
"What'd I do?" he said pathetically.
"When I said 'literally,'" Mark sighed, "I meant sugar on. your. lips.."
Monster reached up and brushed his forearm over his mouth. When he looked at it he saw the shining granules. Poor bugger collapsed in the seat and slammed his hand to his forehead. Clayah sighed and patted him on the back.
"I'm never eating sugar donuts again," Monster whined.
"Good," Levi said. "You were getting fat anyways." Monster let out a sob.
I suddenly felt rather awkward. Monster seemed to need quiet time, and the best I could do was help him get some space, so maybe…
It was a rather selfish decision to say, “Clayah, fancy another coffee?”
She seemed to pick up on my facial expression (“Levi can handle this better than you or I can”) (she did pick up on that, yeah?) and nodded. “I could use a refill. Monster, need some alone time?”
With his face in his arms on the table he gave a sad whimper.
“That means ‘yes’,” Levi told us.
“Right. Clayah?” I rose from my chair and held out my hand to her. I have absolutely no idea what the gears in her mind were saying and I cursed my parents in my head for raising me so proper because now it seemed totally weird to be all gentlemanly in the middle of a coffee shop and bollocks she must think I’m forward or desperate or something—
Clayah smiled and took my hand. “Thank you.”
Oh thank God.
When she’d stood I noticed I seemed to still be holding her hand as we made our way toward the counter. I was perfectly fine with this, therefore doing nothing to draw attention to it. However when we were halfway there her hand vanished from mine. I couldn’t help feeling a little hurt.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat of my scratched pride, “Monster’s going to be rather down, I assume.”
“Unfortunately yes,” Clayah side. “Just adds another to the list.”
“I hope you’re not the company for him.” Oh wasn’t that a brilliant line, dammit Sean—
Clayah gave a little smile. “No, not me. Drew.”
“Really?” I looked back toward their booth to see Drew. “She seems to be fairing fine, actually.”
“When people are with her she’s okay,” Clayah said, “but when it’s just her around the bus she seems miserable.”
“What do you think’s wrong?”
“I don’t think, I know. She misses her boyfriend back in Chicago.”
I clicked my tongue. “That’s not easy to carry. Leaving the one you love.”
Clayah shrugged. “I can’t really comment on that one.”
I leaned against the counter on my right arm, facing her. “Why’s that, then?”
“Never really been a romantic I guess,” Clayah said flatly.
“Really.” She turned and caught my eye; I guess I must have been looking at her a bit too seriously based on how long her eyes lingered there…
“Your coffee.”
I snapped out of it to see the café bloke handing Clayah her cappuccino. She gave her cheers to him and went to grab her wallet, but I held out my hand to stop her.
“Don’t. On me.” I reached in and got out my own wallet, rifling out a few quid.
“No, Sean, you don’t have to.”
“I know.” I handed the bills to the tender. “But I want to. And I’m Irish, Clayah. When I make a decision...” I turned to look at her again, “…I stand by it.”
Of course, yet another moment was snatched from my hands.
“Sean!”
Billie came trotting up to me at the counter. “Sean, tell me something to say in Welsh. Dan and I are having a Random contest.”
I rolled my eyes and questioned the heavens why such rubbish luck must strike. “Why ask me?”
“You live in Europe.”
"Dammit!" Dan came up behind Billie, flipping briskly through the pages of a Welsh-to-English dictionary. “It’s totally unfair to use the Brit. Totally cheating.”
“Is not!” Billie said. “The rules allow any resource available.”
“Sorry mate, I can’t speak Welsh.” Clayah and I both started moving across the café in the direction from whence Billie and Dan had come. Of course, they followed.
“Oh come on,” Dan insisted. “You must know something in Welsh.”
“Ha! So it’s not cheating NOW is it?” Billie guffawed. “Not when YOU do it!”
We were approaching Mikey and Gerard in the corner, and Clayah asked, “How long have they been at this?”
A very sleepy looking Gerard readjusted himself in his chair. “Pretty much since we walked in.”
“It’s sad, really,” Mikey added, “On top of obnoxious, of course.”
“Seriously, like, one word,” Billie pestered. “Anything.”
I couldn’t speak Welsh fluently, but from my many travels around the British isles, I’d picked up only a handful of words in Welsh, but the most Random-worthy bit I knew was
"Blaidd drwg," I said. Gerard and Mikey snapped in my direction and started laughing. Clayah, now sitting next to them, looked lost.
"I don't get it," Clayah said.
"It means 'Bad Wolf,'" Mikey explained. Clayah stared at him.
"NO," I said in a low voice of shock. "Don't tell me you don't get it."
"I don't get it," she said plainly.
Gerard and Mikey exchanged looks. "My God, we are the worst br—OW! What the—"
"You are not the worst friends ever," she said through gritted teeth. Now I was lost. "But what is it?"
Gerard paused before a dawn of understanding passed over him. "Oooh. Right. Have you never seen Doctor Who?"
"What's that?"
I grabbed my chest at the pain— Dan had to catch me when my knees gave out. One of my idols had no idea the other existed. "Doctor Who. THE DOCTOR. You know: TARDIS, Sonic Screwdriver, Time Lords, Daleks...?"
Clayah stared at me like I had actually spoken Gallifreyan. (And if I had that would've been SO fantastic.)
Billie turned to Dan. "Blaidd drwg, Dan."
"Wrong," Mikey said. " ‘Blaidd drwg, Rose Tyler’!"
"Who's Rose Tyler?"
I felt like I was about to cry. "Here's some Welsh for you," I gasped. "Beth y uffern?!"
"'What the hell' what?" Devin said, walking up to us.
"Oh, DUH!" Billie slapped his forehead. "We should've just asked her! She is Welsh!" Dan looked blankly at his dictionary.
"Clayah doesn't know what Doctor Who is!"
"WHAT?!"
Harvey jogged up. "Are we talking about Doctor Who?"
"Clayah's never heard of it."
Harvey stared at me. "Sean, never take the mickey when it comes to Doctor Who virginity."
"She doesn't!"
Harvey looked at Clayah, who’s face grew more flabbergasted by the minute. "Blimey, you're not kidding!"
Devin was so shocked by now she had reverted to muttering Welsh surprises under her breath and Dan and Billie strained to listen and started prodding her to speak up and Bristol had jumped into the conversation and was just as stunned as the rest of us—
"SHUT UP!" Clayah barked. "WHAT is Doctor Who?"
"A television show," Mikey said calmly. "It's British and pretty damn popular."
All the British kids sniffed in unison at this. When the British techs had met we immediately bonded over two similarities in all of us: obsession with music and obsession with The Doctor. Bristol always kept her Sonic Screwdriver in her pocket and Harvey kept his action figure of the Tenth Doctor near his bunk.
"What's it about?" Clayah asked.
"This alien named The Doctor. He's a Time Lord--"
Clayah cut him off. "Ooooh. I should've guessed it was sci-fi."
"Well... fluffy sci-fi, to say the least."
"Be nice!" Gerard snapped. "It's a kid's show. It doesn't have to be perfect sci-fi."
"Rubbish," Harvey said. "It's hardly a kid's show. Not really. And it is not 'fluffy' by any means. That show's intense."
I nodded vigorously. "It is. I'm afraid of shadows now."
"The End Of Time." Devin wiped a tear from her eye. "The nation cried."
Harvey put a hand over his heart. “Doomsday. I cannot even THINK about it.” He fanned his face to keep from welling up.
"Boo!" Tre walked up to Gerard and clapped him on the back. (Gerard grunted in agony, not that Tre noticed.) "What're we talking about?"
"The Doctor," Devin said.
"Doctor who?"
Dead laughing.
“Hey, guys,” Frank said, coming toward us. “We’re pulling out soon. They want us at the venue by lunch.”
“What?” Clayah said. “The show doesn’t start ‘till seven!”
“I didn’t say it, man, they did.”
Gerard groaned. “I just sat down…”
“Here.” Mikey and Clayah both helped him up. “Want me to ride with you guys?” Clayah asked.
“That’d be good,” Mikey nodded. “Band won’t mind?”
“No no, it’s cool.”
For the second time in ten minutes I felt crushed. I’d been weaving a proposal of riding on the Rush And Ruin bus, you know, to “help comfort Monster.” Only intention.
“Let’s load up then.” Frank clapped his hands and started summoning everyone out. In a last [I hope it didn’t look desperate] attempt I caught Clayah’s shoulder.
“Need an extra hand?” I said to her, gesturing to Gerard.
Clayah smiled, but shook her head. “Thanks, but we got it. I’ll see you at the venue, okay?”
She made her way out with Gerard and Mikey. Not we’ll see you, but I’ll see you; phrasing was definitely being taken to heart. Tea in hand I was headed out the door in the back of the crowd when suddenly a hand wrapped around my arm.
“Leaving without saying ‘good morning,’ mon cher?”
I stiffened and turned. Desiree, gorgeous as ever, stood behind me. Her hair had been tousled precisely so as to look like nothing had been done to it, a few well-placed locks falling down near her smoky blue-painted eyes. As long as I’d known Desiree, she’d always had something very feline about her, now very apparent in her body stance: predatory. What some men would think was sexy.
On the other hand, I found it old.
“Desiree,” I said, “I never have and never will be your ‘cher.’ You’re clever enough to know that by now.”
Desiree’s pout mouth curled in a sneer. “On the contrary, Sean,” she cooed. Curling disgust filled my stomach; her voice always reminded me of gooey frosting when she flirted, over-sugared in that accent (which was hardly genuine anymore). “Now why have you hardly spoken to me since we were reunited, hmm?”
I rolled my eyes a little more zealously than necessary—just to get the point across. “You know damn well why.”
“Perhaps not. I have never heard it directly from you.”
My eyes narrowed. “We’re not talking about this here,” I growled.
Desiree’s body curved a little closer to mine. Clearly the cat was not fended off easily… some things never change. “The Moreaus are not happy with you, or your family.”
“Well that’s just heartbreaking.”
“Don’t be such a child. You know this is bigger than both of us.”
“I’m glad you can admit it. You’re family’s arrogance always HAS been inflated.”
Her grip tightened on my arm so I could feel a couple perfectly manicured nails dig in. “It has taken three years to find you. I was sent to try and change your mind.”
“Gold star for you.”
“Why must you make this so hard?”
“Well you know me, love.” I reached over and uncurled her hand from my bicep. “Always here to be a challenge.” Just to infuriate her further I added a wink, grinning.
She turned scarlet. “You are an unbelievable ass sometimes.”
“Ain’t I just?” I gave a little skip and she fumed. “Back to the bus, then?” I danced out the shop door, warm in the heat of her radiating rage all the way.