Want.

The show went amazing. I don't think we've had that good of a show in a long time. The crowd was totally into it. They sang along and danced and whenever I looked out, I could only see smiles. The most rewarding part of a this show, of any show, was the fact so many people were happy because they were at one of our shows. It felt so fucking good to make people happy.
The only down part about the show was after the show. We were planning to go and sign and take pictures with the kids, but once we stepped into the dressing room, Mikey collapsed. Luckily, Bob caught him before he could his the floor. I was scared shit-less, to be honest. The paramedics that were there said it was heat exhaustion and dehydration. We forced Mikey to strip to his undershirt and boxers. We poured water and ice all over him and made him drink at least 8 water bottles. After about fifteen minutes or so, he was okay, but I was still freaking out.
Now we're back on the bus, air conditioning as high as it will go, and we're headed to New Mexico.
"Gerard!" It was Mikey.
I nearly jumped a foot in the air and raced to the "living room".
"Mikey! Are you okay? You're not starting to get dizzy again, are you? Do you need water? We might be able to op-"
"Gerard! Calm down, I'm fine," He gave me a 'what-the-actual-fuck-is-wrong-with-you stare and laughed.
"Oh, okay. Sorry, I'm in panic mode right now because of what happened back at the venue,"
"I promise, I'm okay. I just wanted to know where we're going, that's all,"
"Oh. Um, New Mexico,"
"Okay," He turned to look down the hall. "Fuck you, I was right!" He yelled.
"Whatever, punk-ass kid! Frankie and Toro though it was Colorado, too!"
Mikey ran back to the bunk area and less then three seconds later I heard a scream of "Ow!" that I never though would've come out of Bob Bryar's mouth.
I casually walked back to them, laughing the whole time.
"Lemme see," I heard Mikey's hushed voice say.
"It hurts, fuck," Bob hissed.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't think I landed on it, honestly,"
"I should've told you that I hurt my shoulder yesterday,"
"Bob, lemme see," I pried Mikey's hands away from Bob's left shoulder.
I pushed up the sleeve. He had a huge, nasty-looking bruise in the dead center of his arm.
I turned to Mikey and said, "Go get ice," and turned back to Bob. "Dude, how did you manage that?"
"I was angry at...something, and I was walking away from...someone and I turned the corner too hard and ran into a pole,"
Mikey was back with the ice and he handed it to me. I took a shirt and wrapped the ice and handed it to Bob. "A pole did that to you?" I asked, not sure if I believe it or not.
"Yeah, one of those damn square poles that have the edges. I was walking pretty fast," He shrugged.
Mikey sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"
"Shut up," Bob said evenly. "I'm not mad, honestly. It just hurt for a minute, that's all," He gave Mikey a half smile.
I stood up. "Well, if you two are done making googly eyes at each other, I'm gonna go see Frank,"
I turned my back and began walking down the hall, but I could've sworn that I saw Mikey blush seven different shades of red.