Another Day, Another Hotel

WHA-BAM!

“I’m going to miss you so much!” Iero squeal/whines, chucking himself across the room and attacking me in a bear hug after the door clicks behind Ben, the tour manager. We were just having a meeting about the wrap up of this leg of the tour, and apparently Iero thinks that that means it’s okay to hug me.
“Okay…” I say, peeling him off of me. “You’ve got, you know, like two more weeks to express your love, so you can lay off for now.”
“Okay,” he sniffles, backing away from me.
“EVERYONE SHUT UP!” Mikey shrieks, whipping a copy of TV Guide around in the air.
“Thanks for ruining that touching moment,” Tre chuckles.
“What did I just say?” Mikey waves the TV Guide in Tre’s face. “ANTM is starting in, count ‘em, one week!”
“ANTM…?” I say, seating myself in puffy chair near the window and pretending to not know what ANTM is. Secretly, I’m freaking out. I’d prefer if everyone didn’t know that me and Adie Tivo every episode of America’s Next Top Model and have a pool going about who’s going to win every season.
“America’s Next Top Model,” Gerard answers my question with a total look of gross-out on his face. “It’s the most retarded show on TV.”
“It is not,” Mikey says, smacking Gerard upside the head with the TV Guide.
“Uh, yuh-hah, it is.”
“Uh, nuh-ho, it’s not.”
“Children, please,” I say, holding my arms out diplomatically.
“BUT-“ Mikey screeches, but Gerard cuts him of with,
“MIKEYSTOPBEINGANASSHOLeNOONELIKESYOUORYOURSTUPIDAMERICA’SNEXTTOPMODEL.”
Mikey shoots him a look that I’ve a), seen my boys give each other and b) received from my own siblings plenty of times. It means “Prepare to die for insulting America’s Next Top Model/ My Optimus Prime Action Figure/My Replacement’s Record”. Yeah.
“AAAEEEERRRRGGGHHH!!” Mikey screams, launching himself across the room and tackling Gerard, pinning him to the puffy chair I was sitting in a few minutes ago.
I flash Mike a ‘let’s get the hell out of here’ look and we sidle out into the hotel hallway, latching the door behind us. I can hear My Chemical Romance shouting and crashing around the room. Thank God we got out of that one.
“Yes, America’s Next Top Model’s starting again!” I say, holding up my hand for a high-five, and giving Tre a nod of acknowledgement as he sneaks out the door.
“Holy shit,” he says, thumbing back at the door. Shaking the madness that is the Way brothers out of his head, he continues, “You’re Tivo-ing it right?”
“Tyra?” I ask, wondering if he caught our conversation or was just saying something characteristically random, like ‘You can get blood out of dog fur with club soda”.
“Yeah,” he says, drumming on his thighs.
“I can get my mom to take Joey over and do it,” I say, glancing up and noticing Adrienne coming down the hall. I waggle my eyebrows and Mike and Tre.
“Later,” I say, heading off down the hall.
“Hey,” she says, giving me a weak smile.
“Hey, you okay?” I say, slipping my arm around my waist and turning her back around.
“Yeah,” she says, yawning. “I just woke up. How’d the meeting go?”
“Fine,” I chuckle. “The Way brothers are currently trying to kill eachother.”
“Yeah, and…?” she laughs, laying her head on my shoulder and yawning again.
“Damn, you should go back to sleep,” I say, leading her back in the direction of our room.
“No, it’s really not that bad,” she laughs again, shaking her head at me. “Stop being so damn maternal.”
“It’s that time of the month, you know,” I say, smirking at her.
“HEY ASSHOLE!” Jason yells at me from where he’s joined Mike and Tre.
“Oh Jesus,” I mutter to Adie, spinning around shouting back,
“WHAT, DOUCHEFACE?”
“We’re going out, in like, an hour and a half, so get your ass in gear and clean yourself up!”
“Yes, MOM!” I shriek and whip back around, dragging Adie into our room.
Adie blinks at me. “I’m always amazed at the complexity of your relationships.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say hopping on the bed.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she says, and unzipping her hoodie and chucking it on the bed next to me on her way to the bathroom.
“Work it,” I call after her. I hear her laugh as I stare at my reflection in the dusty TV. Yes, ANTM’s coming back. I really don’t watch reality TV, I swear, but goddamn it if I’m not a sucker for that show. I reach up and scratch my face, and notice that I really need to shave. Ick.
“Hey sweetie,” I say knocking on the bathroom door and opening it.
“Yeah,” she calls over the noise of the shower.
“I’m going to shave, okay?”
“Alright,” she calls back.
I set to work and am finished before she’sout of the shower.
“What the hell is taking you so goddamn long, woman?” I say thrashing at the shower curtain. I can hear her laugh.
“I’m shaving my legs!”
“Yeah, well, it shouldn’t take that long,” I cackle. “Maybe you need a little male assistance.” I rip back the curtain and hop in with her, planning on pinning her up against the wall, but the tub is way slipperier than I had expected, and I go ass over teakettle, knocking myself out on the side of the tub.

When I wake up, I’m soaking wet and laying spread-eagle in the tub. I can’t really see anything, but I can hear Adrienne laughing uncontrollably. I try to turn my head, but excruciating pain shoots through my skull.
“Oh…my…. god….” Adrienne all but snorts through her laughter. I try and sit up and notice I’m laughing too- and crying a little- while she crouches down beside me next to the tub. “Billie!”
“Ow,” I squeak.
“You… went… flat out on your ass!” she laughs, tears streaming down her face.
“I think I passed out,” I say, coming-to more and rubbing the back of my head where it connected with the expensive high class porcelain of the tub.
“What?” she managed to say between gasps for air. I close my eyes really tight trying to clear the tears out. I think I’m crying from laughing so hard, but also probably because my head just connected with the fucking tub.
“I’m so sorry, Billie Joe,” she says, wiping her eyes and holding a hand out to me to help me up. “But you should have seen yourself.”
“Yeah, real hilarious,” I mumble, stumbling to my feet and grabbing the towel from her. As I dry my head off, I can still hear her giggling behind her hand.
“That’s what you get for trying to be overtly sexy,” she says before breaking down in laughter again.
“Yeah, sure,” I say whipping her with the towel.