Intoxicated

Jimmy Urine was not drunk, and nor was he, in any sense of the word, hyper.

At least, that was what he was trying to convince himself. As he lay on the couch in his band’s deserted tour bus, Jimmy sighed, taking another sip of the Cheech; some kind of drink that was made with lemon, tonic water, and tequila. He didn't know why he was drinking this beverage in the first place, but it tasted good and he was kind of addicted to it after being introduced to it. Placing his cup on the floor next to the velvet red couch upon which he resided that very moment, Jimmy sat up, clutching his head slightly as the bus started to spin – a reaction caused by sitting up rather quickly, no doubt. Or the alcohol. Groaning slightly, he lay back on the couch again.

Briefly, he began to wonder where the rest of his band was, but then decided not to break his head over it as he probably already knew the answer. Projekt Revolution consisted of a rather big group of bands—though it was a tour nowhere near as large as Warped in that sense—and all of them were cramped together backstage almost the whole day, so Jimmy guessed his band mates were milling around backstage at the moment, leaving him alone on their tour bus…which probably hadn’t been a good move on their part. But what did Jimmy care? Their set for the day was over, and he had the rest of the day and the subsequent night to do what he wanted.

Swinging his legs over the side of the couch, therefore forcing himself sit on it instead of lie upon it completely, his movements sluggish and lazy, Jimmy bent down to grab the cup of Cheech again and drank from it, standing up while doing so and falling back down on the couch as a sudden reaction. Jimmy giggled at the fact that he just fell back down on the couch, a giggle that would even rival Frank Iero's girly giggle, but that was a fact beyond the point, really. At least, Jimmy thought it was. But then again, he was somewhat drunk, so what did he know? He honestly had no idea.

Risking another chance of standing up and hoping he would actually stay on his feet this time, Jimmy slowly stood up from the black velvet couch while still holding the red cup filled with Cheech. Waiting a few seconds to move, Jimmy smirked to himself, proving to himself once again that, even though he was probably drunk as hell, he could still stand on his legs. Steve called them his ‘sea legs’. Lyn-Z often commented he had Vodka legs, more likely. He giggled again, enjoying his random thoughts.

Looking at the television that was re-airing some boring, already-viewed showed for the millionth time (though that didn't stop Jimmy from laughing at Stewie Griffin and his antics) Jimmy stumbled towards the little fridge of their tour bus, and in no time had fixed himself another cup of Cheech; he knew that there was no one else on the bus to stop him, anyway. Sipping from the freshly made drink, Jimmy wondered what else there was to do on the tour bus. Even though the rest of his band and some of his friends in the other bands were probably having loads of fun together, he didn't feel like going outside of the tour bus and being confronted by the hot burning sun that would only enlarge his growing headache.

Standing in the middle of the small living room of the tour bus, if you could call it a living room, holding a small red cup filled with Cheech, Jimmy Urine scratched his head, looking rather confused for a moment as he started wondering what he should be doing right now. His hair was already done—it was often a favourite pastime with him; finding new ways to style his hair—he was still wearing his stage clothes (consisting of no more than his usual black and bright pink clothing, something that he wore almost every day from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to bed) though his coat was laying discarded on the couch, since it was too hot to wear it anyway…what was there to do?

Taking another sip from his drink, Jimmy stumbled towards the bunks, thinking he would find something to do there. With fumbling fingers he took out his iPod and shoved it onto the stereo hook-up that was on the small square table in the kitchen-area, and the next thing he knew his own voice was blasting through the bus. Highly pleased with himself, he turned and went on his merry way to the bunks again…and then stopped, when something else caught his eyes. It was at that moment that he noticed the suitcases of Lyn-Z and Kitty, standing next to each other in the back room of their tour bus.

“I kill the rock, rock, rock...ooh, bra!” Somehow, he found himself grabbing the nearest suitcase and prying it open, revealing the ‘treasures’ that were inside. Jimmy took out a peculiar, girly pink bra, completed with lace and flowers, out of Lyn-Z's suitcase and held it between two fingers as he inspected it. Raising an eyebrow at the piece of clothing, he could hardly believe it; he didn't really expect Lyn-Z to wear anything with lace…but clearly, she did. Grinning widely from ear to ear, he glanced into Kitty's suitcase, which was, just like Steve's, neatly ordered; unlike Lyn-Z's and Jimmy's. They’d always had that in common, their preference to let their messes build up on their bus until Kitty or Steve, disgusted with the both of them, ended up cleaning it for them.

Jimmy pouted, not finding her secret stash of kinky bras—assuming she had one—while trying to keep everything in order so she would never noticed that he’d gone through it. Jimmy settled for Lyn-Z's bra instead of wasting more time in search for Kitty's. Still holding the bra, Jimmy made his way towards the small bathroom of the tour bus, knowing that there was a small mirror there—perfect for what he was about to do! And in his mind, his idea made perfect sense. He chose to credit the alcohol for this.

While he was holding the pink and lacy undergarment, stumbling across the small path between the bunks and clearly not being able to walk in a straight line, Little Jimmy Urine still managed to get in the bathroom unscathed—except for maybe a couple of bruises from continuously walking into the door until he realized he had to actually open it—and still with his cup of Cheech as full as it was before he started singing and dancing to his own music. Boy, was he glad no one could see him right now; it would only encourage the fans to write even stranger fanfiction than they were already writing…

Placing the red cup filled with the drink safely on the small place by the sink so he wouldn't spill any of it, Jimmy looked at the bra, which he was now holding with two hands. It was pink, it had lace and frills embedded with flowers…he never thought he'd find anything like this in the suitcase of his, rather beautiful but not exactly girly, bassist. Raising an eyebrow at it and then looking at himself in the mirror, completely ignoring the fact that his hair was already spiked up and there were huge black circles under his eyes, he smirked before his eyes turned back to the bra.

The iPod was still playing his music, as loud as it could through the little boxes it was attached to, and sometimes, Jimmy caught himself mumbling some of the words on a high pitched voice with his recorded vocals, only to burst out in silly giggling a few seconds later. He was still holding the bra in front of him, but this time, it was more in front of his chest instead of his face to inspect it, though Jimmy was still wearing his black shirt. If anyone could've seen Jimmy's face the moment he decided to take of his shirt and put the bra on, they would've knocked him out and taken him to a mental hospital.

Placing the pink, lacy bra safely in the sink, so it wouldn't bother him for a few minutes, Jimmy tried to take of his shirt; something that proved to be a difficulty in the drunken state he was in, not to mention the small size of the bathroom. His hair was in the way and caused his shirt to be stuck a couple of times. It was amazing he was able to keep from falling as he flailed around the tiny space, still singing lyrics as he struggled with his shirt.

Cursing loudly to himself, and even louder than the current Mindless Self Indulgence song playing throughout the tour bus, Jimmy fell over and hit his head on the small cupboard/closet before him, while still having his black shirt over his head and covering his eyes completely. The fact that he was completely wasted made him wonder where exactly in the tour bus he was for just a brief second, and what way was right side up. After a few minutes of this confusion, Jimmy finally managed to stumble to his feet and get the shirt off of his head so he could at least see what he was doing…even if his eyesight was a little blurry courtesy of his beloved alcoholic drink.

Little Jimmy Urine looked at himself in the mirror, taking in his appearance. His chest wasn’t all that tanned like his arms, but that was only because he didn’t usually bother to take of his shirt on stage or walk around with a bare chest back stage, just to save him the trouble of ruining his beautiful spiked hair. His pants, however, were another story.

Throwing the black shirt on the floor, Jimmy grinned and picked up the bra, applying it to himself and closing it behind his back without looking—though how he was able to do that while he could barely function, and when it was the first time he wore a bra while being so intoxicated, he had no idea but it worked for now. The straps, not being adjusted to his thin body, fell off his shoulders. Jimmy didn't really notice, and nor did he care, as he was too busy looking at himself in the mirror while wearing the rather girly pink bra he found in the suitcase of his bassist.

“I am so beautiful…fuck!” Jimmy leaned on the sink, trying not to collapse; his sight was suddenly completely blurred. The sound of his own music drowned any other sound made on the bus, which also had the effect of causing Jimmy to be ignorant of anything that was happening around him. Singing with the song Bitches, another song from his own band, Jimmy danced around on the tour bus, drinking from his red cup of Cheech and still managing not to spill any of the drink on his clothes, or on the bra itself. Even though Jimmy was drunk as hell, he knew as well as anyone that Lyn-Z would kill him if she knew he spilled Cheech on her pretty pink bra.

Singing in an exaggeratedly high tone of voice with the music that was playing throughout the tour bus, Jimmy danced, every so often checking himself out in front of the tall mirror in the backroom of the bus to see how he looked. With all of this fun going on, it was no wonder he didn’t notice it when he suddenly was no longer alone in the live-in vehicle.

* * *

Steve Righ? laughed at a joke he had just told as he boarded the tour bus, Lyn-Z and Gerard both following right behind him and giggling right along with his entertaining words. The pair was holding hand, their expressions shy and yet relaxed, their eyes meeting at odd intervals and causing their giggles to only become more prominent when it happened. Such lovebirds, Steve thought to himself, though the sight both amused and entertained him.

Silence took over the group at once when they walked on the bus. Easily recognizable was a song by Mindless Self Indulgence that was being played through the iPod hook-up on the table. Of course, that wasn’t the first thing that they noticed about the scene that was there to greet them. No, the incredibly skinny, half-naked man that was prancing around in the living area, singing along with every word in a drunken, slovenly sort of way certainly drew their attention first. This shouldn’t have surprised them; Jimmy had his ways of unwinding after a set, however odd they were, and they never questioned them. However…this time, things seemed to be a little different. Before they could voice their confusion at this sight, however, Jimmy disappeared; laughing and stumbling into the bunking area and out of their eyesight.

Steve glanced around at Gerard and Lyn-Z with frown on his face, but shrugged and disappeared towards the bunk area in search for the singer only a moment later. Gerard and Lyn-Z, both equally unsure of what to do or say, only had to wait for a few seconds before they heard loud, hysterical laughing coming from the back room, followed by an equally loud and high pitched-scream, which was accompanied by a thunderous crash. Knowing that they should see what was happening, yet each dreading what they would find, Gerard and Lyn-Z, the couple in love, clasped hands once more and dashed together for the bunking area.

What they saw, however, wasn't what they had expected. Steve Righ? was laughing loudly, and clearly he couldn't stop laughing no matter how many times Lyn-Z tried to ask him what the hell what was going on, or what was so funny. Confused, Gerard glanced around the other man and towards the very back of the bus…and his widened at the sight of Little Jimmy Urine sitting on the floor, pieces of broken mirror around him, as he rubbed at his head with a rather sour expression. Looking closer, Gerard noticed Jimmy was wearing a pink, lacy, flower-embedded bra…

“The fuck?” he whispered, more to himself than to the others with him. In an instant Lyn-Z was at his side, her expression darkening as she took in the sight before her.

“What the hell? Jimmy? Get the hell out of my bra!” she shrieked, her cheeks growing red with embarrassment as Gerard’s face registered the shock of knowing that such a lacy, pink bra belonged to her. Jimmy blinked in surprise, glancing down to the pink article of underclothing before a small grin spread across his bemused, dazed facial features.

“Wow…betcha never thought you’d have to say that to me, huh?”